#lemme know if anyone else wants to join in

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Sajda 𓆩♡𓆪

Summary: Lando found his greatest love at the worst time. Yet she would always be there with him.

♥ ln x desi!reader [important author's note below] ʚɞ

♥ angst + fluff ʚɞ

♥ tw: death [lemme know if there's anything else] ʚɞ

author's note: i know this says desi!reader, but there's only one thing in hindi that y/n says, and the meaning of it will be revealed later, so y'all can read this, despite it being a desi!reader. and, this is kinda long (that's what she said). the max i mention in this is max f, unless i mention otherwise.

masterlist ☾☼

lando had met y/n in the most unusual way possible. he'd been in a cafe, waiting for his coffee and scone, when he'd seen her walk in. she hadn't looked anything extraordinary to anyone. she looked like the average university student with too many books, and not enough hands to hold them. yet somehow, lando had been intrigued by her. he'd seen many college students around in monaco, yet something about her had made him forget about everyone else, and everything else.

he'd watched, even though he didn't want to come across as a creep, as she fell into a nearby seat, resting her arms and breathing heavily. lando didn't know why she was breathing so heavily. she hadn't ran in, and the weight of her books couldn't have been so much that it was physically draining her.

lando waited for someone to offer her water, but no one did. she was hunched over, her chest falling and rising rapidly, and he couldn't sit back anymore. quickly walking over to the counter, lando requested for a bottle of water, apologising for not ordering at the cash counter. the woman had been kind enough to hand him a bottle, and just said that she would bill it later, before he left.

thanking the woman, lando walked over with the bottle in hand. she was still hunched over, her hand to her chest, and she was still breathing too heavily. he knocked on her table twice, making her head shoot up, staring at him. wordlessly, he offered the bottle to her. she hesitated, but grabbed it, and quickly drank from it, almost finishing the whole thing in one go.

"thank you," she said. her accent was different, and her voice was soft and velvety and kind.

"are you okay?" lando asked.

she nodded, "i am now,"

"would you like help with anything?"

she stared at him for a few seconds, "i'm not accepting help from a stranger,"

lando's eyes widened, "oh, i'm so sorry. i'm lando, it's nice to meet you." he held his hand out for her to shake.

"i know who you are. i follow f1," she said as she grabbed his hand and pulled herself up. staring at her smaller hand in his, lando noticed her ln bracelet.

"so, i take it you like how i drive?" lando smirked, a little cocky.

her eyes narrowed, "sometimes."

his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "what do you mean 'sometimes'?"

"well, y'all are mighty rich and arrogant, and i'd rather not give you the satisfaction by saying i'm a fan of yours," she said, taking her hand back from his. lando hadn't even realised that he was still holding onto her hand.

"that seems ru-" lando broke off when he saw her fighting a smile. he smiled as well, shaking his head.

"i'm y/n. and, i am a fan of yours," she introduced herself, a teasing smile on her lips.

she had a dimple, like lando did, and out of everything that he had noticed in the few minutes, her dimple was his favourite.

"would you like to join me? i could order you something?" lando asked bashfully.

"just because i'm a college student doesn't mean i'm broke," she said dryly.

his eyes widened, and he rushed to correct himself, to let her know that he didn't mean it like that, and he just wanted to do something nice. but then, she laughed. a loud laugh and lando froze.

that laugh, her laugh, was more beautiful than the sound of any of his cars. her laugh was more beautiful than hearing his national anthem at the top step. her laugh was more beautiful than anything he had ever heard, and he wished he had recorded it because he wanted to listen to that laugh till he died.

"i'm just kidding. thank you, i'd appreciate it." she said, still smiling.

she was shorter than him, and almost looked fragile. lando hated himself for thinking like that, given his history of dealing with bullying, but her arms were thin and he worried. he worried for a girl he met a few minutes ago.

lando picked up her books, as she grabbed her bag and the bottle of water. he led her to the seat he had previously occupied. he gently kept her books on the table, and pulled out the chair for her, being a true gentleman.

"you don't have to worry about me being the bus stop girl. i won't lie on the internet," y/n said, and lando burst out in laughter. he liked her. he liked her dry humour.

"no, go ahead and lie, i'd be fine with it," he said, as he settled into the chair across from her.

"you're not worried that i'm some crazy fan who's going to go on twitter and tiktok and i don't know where else to post a made up story about you?" she asked, settling into the seat.

somehow, she looked smaller in it, and lando felt the need to protect her, to make her realise just how much space was available for her to occupy because he didn't like that she was shrinking herself.

"are you going to?" he retaliated.

y/n smirked, "i might,"

"then, i'd like to see how creative you can get."

she smiled, showing her dimple again, and lando thought for a moment if she would scream at him if he asked to take a picture of her dimple.

the woman from the counter placed his coffee and his scone on the table, and turned to y/n, asking if she needed anything. y/n ordered for a coffee, and apologised for not ordering at the cash counter.

the woman hushed her, as if it was an every day occurrence for the two women.

"do you come here often?" he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

she nodded, "every day. it's the cafe closest to my apartment, so i spend a lot of time here."

lando's head tilted in confusion, "how come i've never seen you before then?"

"maybe you weren't looking for me then," she was flirting. lando wasn't sure. but he hoped she was.

"maybe i wasn't ready for you before. the universe does work in mysterious ways, y'know,"

she leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eye, "oh, honey, you're never going to be ready for the storm i am,"

he laughed once again, and he liked that. the pressure of the world championship was catching up to him, despite his efforts to not let it affect him. he hadn't properly laughed like this in a while, but somehow, he was glad that he was laughing with her, a woman he met a half hour ago.

they kept talking, making each other laugh, falling into comfortable silences, asking questions just to get to know the other better. they didn't speak much about lando's job, or why she was breathing so heavily when he had first approached her. the two recognised that those were uncomfortable topics.

lando knew that y/n, as a fan, would have her own opinions, and while he didn't know what she thought of his driving or his team or his teammate or anyone on the grid, he also knew that he didn't want to hear it. the world had an opinion on everything but they didn't know the truth, and lando refused to get influenced by the opinions of someone who had no idea what happened behind cameras.

y/n had also subtly changed topics any time it came close to her breathing, or her general exhaustion. lando desperately wanted to know, but he didn't want to overstep, especially because this was a friendship he wanted to keep in his life.

lando had stayed at the cafe way longer than he was supposed to, but he didn't really mind, and he knew that max would understand. when y/n began packing up, ready to leave, he shyly asked for her number, and asked if he would see her again.

"you're a lot more confident on social media than you are in real life," she mused, a soft smile on her lips letting him know that she wasn't judging, but instead, just making an observation.

"i know what people want me to be online. it doesn't always mean that's who i am,"

"wise words, mister norris,"

lando ducked his head, "thank you, miss y/l/n,"

she had given him her number, quickly calling her phone to make sure that she had it as well. just as she turned to leave, she hesitated for a second, and lando watched, not wanting to miss a second of her existence.

she was second guessing herself, he knew, but nothing could have prepared him for when she leaned up slightly, her hand on his arm, and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, before turning away and walking out.

lando stood there frozen, a goofy smile on his face, feeling excited about seeing her again.

the two fell into an easy friendship. lando found out that y/n tended to sleep quite often, and because of that, she used every little energy she had in studying and maintaining her gpa. he found out that she was from india, and was attending university here on a scholarship. he found out that her favourite drink was hazelnut coffee, with a lot of whipped cream. she was a sucker for kinder, just like he was. he found out that she was bad at texting, often leaving him on delivered for hours, sometimes days, though she always apologised profusely and said that it was out of her control most of the time. lando also found out that he forgave her quite easily.

they spent most of their time at the cafe, sometimes working together in silence, sometimes she explained to him what she was studying with a passion he hadn't seen anywhere else. sometimes, they just talked about everything and nothing, and it became lando's favourite thing.

when it was time for lando to head to the mtc for work, to focus on the last three races, he had felt gutted. he wouldn't see her anymore, and he hadn't realised just how much of his mood had began depending on her. the day before he left, he walked her back to her apartment, refusing to let her walk alone in the dark.

outside of her apartment building, she pulled him in a hug, wrapping her arms around his waist. she had dropped her bag on the floor, just so she could hug him. lando immediately wrapped his arms around her neck, keeping her to him.

they didn't say anything, just breathed each other in. it wasn't goodbye, lando knew that, yet it felt like it. it felt like a goodbye, and lando was not ready to let her go just yet, no matter the reason.

as she began to pull away from him, he pressed a kiss to her hair, holding her for just another second, before he let her go.

"i'll see you soon, yeah?" he whispered.

she smiled, biting her lip. his gaze focused on her lip, and he desperately wanted to kiss her, but he couldn't. he shouldn't.

"win for me, will you?" she said softly.

he smiled, "as long as you keep letting me know you're alive and well,"

her smile faltered, and lando immediately wondered what he said, what was going on in her brain.

she smiled brightly again, and nodded. she pressed a kiss to his cheek, like she did every time she went back home. and, like every time, he froze, smiling goofily.

lando watched as she picked up her bag and walked inside the building. he watched, half because she was mesmerising, and half because he wanted to make sure that she was safe.

when he was travelling, lando and y/n fell into a similar routine. since they weren't able to meet face to face, they were on facetime almost constantly. the only time they weren't on facetime was when either of them were sleeping, or lando was training or in a meeting. she had gotten better at texting as well, keeping him updated about everything and anything. she let him know when she'd be unavailable for their facetime calls, and lando understood.

lando felt deeply for her. he knew that his feelings for her were romantic. he hoped that she felt the same for him. but, the more rational part of him also knew that if he wanted to be with her for a long term, he'd have to be her friend first. he'd have to build that solid foundation with her first.

for y/n, he was willing to wait as long as she wanted.

of course, she never said or indicated anything regarding her feelings towards him. at the end of the day, lando wanted to be a part of her life in any way that she would want him. he'd never felt like this before, had never felt this insane need to be around someone, to have someone in his bubble all the time. he didn't understand this feeling very well, had never experienced something like this before.

he'd confided in max. he explained to his best friend every emotion and every thought that ran through him when he was with her, and when he was away from her. his best friend admitted to never seeing lando like this, but also said that he was happy to see his best friend so enamoured with someone.

max's advice had been to take it slow, and to be friends with her till she asked or indicated otherwise. when pietra and ria had agreed with him, lando knew for sure that that was the best course of action. he didn't want to overwhelm her. he didn't want to make her feel like he was expecting anything more than what she was willing to give. he'd hate himself if his actions drove her away.

so, he took it slow.

he sent her pictures from his day, and voice notes at the end of the day. he kept her on facetime, saying that he needs company as an excuse. as if he wasn't surrounded by his mechanics and engineers. he texted her before he got in the car, and he texted her after he got out. he sent her memes, and he flirted a little bit.

and, she did the same. she sent him pictures from her day, letting him know when she was at the cafe. sometimes, he'd recognise his coffee order and scone, and wondered if she missed him the way he missed her. she indulged in his excuse and stayed on facetime with him. she listened to all his voice notes, and responded to them. she texted him every time he was on track, giving him a live update of everything that was going on in her head. sometimes, she flirted back too. she didn't do it often, but she flirted back, and it always made lando smile.

after the season had ended, lando stayed in monaco as much as possible. he missed his family, and he missed his friends for sure. but, he needed to be in y/n's presence like he needed oxygen.

during his off months, y/n's family had come to visit her, and she couldn't stay out much. so, they changed their routine a little. every night, after dinner, lando would meet her at the entrance of her apartment building, and the two would take a walk, sometimes getting ice cream on the way, for an hour or two.

she always made him laugh. and, she laughed just as much. he still wanted to record that sound, and play it over and over and over, till he didn't remember anything but that sound. his feelings had grown stronger over time. she hadn't given any indication of wanting a romantic relationship with him, and he hadn't pushed. he kept his flirting to a minimum as well, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

during one of their walks, y/n had informed lando that her family were going on a trip somewhere, and that she wouldn't be able to talk to him much. he had understood, remembering the stories she'd told of her parents and how they often told her to stay away from her phone. lando planned his trip to his parents' place at around the same time, as well.

he was determined not to miss a single second he could have with her.

the trip she'd taken with her family was three weeks long. they kept up the same routine as race weekends. though, this time, it didn't include facetime calls. he sent her voice notes and pictures regularly, and she responded, though, often really late, and sounding more tired than ever. she shared pictures sometimes, informing him that most pictures were on her brother's phone because he had a better camera than she did.

nonetheless, their bond remained strong.

max called him whipped. carlos said something similar. but he knew that they knew just how important this woman was to him. they hadn't seen anything like it before, and he hadn't felt anything like this before.

despite his efforts of spending every possible second with her, lando had been an f1 driver. meaning, he had to be at the mtc often, especially to meet sponsors and work with his team before the pre-testing.

even though she had never asked or indicated anything, lando bought her gifts to make up for the time he lost with her. she would always laugh, but would accept the gift. in the beginning, she had put up a fight, telling him that it was too much and that he didn't need to. lando was stubborn, and eventually, she'd sighed and accepted it.

just like that, a year passed.

lando was there for her graduation, clapping when she went on stage and received her diploma. lando was there when she found her first job. he was there to drop her off and pick her up on her first day. he was there with ice cream every time she told him that she felt drained, and the two would watch a movie. he was there for every big and every small moment. as much as he could, at least.

she was there every time he came home after a race. she was there every time he was frustrated with the team, with himself, with the media. she was there every time they went to a seafood restaurant, and only ever ordered spring rolls. she was there at the cafe, his coffee and scone ready whenever he was running late. she was there when he was homesick. she was there when he'd be streaming, just sitting close to him. she was there for every quadrant shoot, giving him her ideas as well. she was there for every game night, every movie night, every little party he had. in her own way, she was there with him like no one else had ever been there.

it was so easy being friends with her, sometimes lando forgot that his crush had turned into him being in love with her. it was so easy being with her, that sometimes, lando forgot about his own feelings, only ever focused on her voice and her smile and her hands and everything about her.

she was weak some days, reminding him of the day they'd met, with her breathing so heavily. she would always tell him that it was her time of the month, and these were just some symptoms. lando had grown up with two sisters, but he had never seen anything like what y/n was going through. he had asked his sister if it was normal to be feeling like that during their cycles. his sister had reassured him that it was different for every woman, and as long as y/n said she was fine, she truly was fine.

but, it all came crashing down one day.

lando hadn't expected it. in fact, it happened during a race, and lando was unaware.

he'd had a good race, one that he was proud of. immediately after changing, lando had checked his phone, frowning when there were no messages from y/n. that had been odd, because y/n texted him during each race. she had been doing so consistently for the past year. to suddenly not have a single text from her, not even a good luck text, had worried him.

his flight was scheduled for back home the next morning. if she didn't pick up his call, lando was sure that he would jump on the next flight out and rush home just to check on her.

the ringtone was loud in his ear, even though the volume on his phone wasn't. his heart was beating erratically again, for a completely different reason as before. usually, he loved feeling his heartbeat everywhere, feeling the rush of it in his veins when he was in the car. now, though? he hated the feeling.

she picked up at the final ring. lando breathed out a sigh of relief.

"y/n? are you okay? you didn't text me during the race and i got worried," he said.

she paused for a second on the other side, and lando frowned.

"um, this is her friend. she's in the hospital, actually," the voice was low, but it seemed to echo in his ears.

hospital? what? why? what had happened?

"what?" he croaked out, his body working on autopilot as he stuffed his things in his bag.

"she was fine in the morning, but her condition got a little worse, and we had to get her to the hospital," her friend said.

"condition? what condition?" lando was freaking out.

"she didn't tell you?"

"no! she didn't! is she okay?"

"she'll be okay eventually. at least, that's what the doctor said."

lando asked for the hospital name, looking for flights at the same time.

as he left the paddock, zak and oscar stopped him, but lando didn't have time. he couldn't lose precious seconds.

"i'm really sorry, i have to go, i need to go," he didn't know what he was saying, or what he was doing. all he knew was that he needed to get to y/n as soon as possible.

"woah, woah, woah, lando," oscar said, grabbing lando's arms, holding him in place.

"what's wrong?" zak asked.

zak didn't know y/n, but oscar did. oscar knew her. oscar would understand. yes, oscar would help him.

eyes wide, lando said, "she's in the hospital. i have to go. i don't know what happened, osc, i have to go."

"okay, okay. give me your room key, i'll pack up your stuff and drop it off at your place tomorrow," oscar was calm. how was oscar calm?

"yes, yes, that's smart," lando immediately pulled out the room key card from his pocket, handing it to oscar.

"lando, deep breaths-"

"but, she's-"

"i know. but, you're not going to be of any help to her if you can't help yourself right now. deep breaths with me,"

lando copied oscar's breathing pattern, his hands holding onto oscar's arms. once the rushing blood in his ear subsided, lando nodded, gulping.

"she's going to be okay," oscar reassured him.

lando nodded, taking a step back, ready to turn and leave. just before he began running, he turned quickly, hugging oscar, thanking him. before oscar could hug back, lando was running.

the wait was excruciating. the wait in the taxi going to the airport. the wait at the airport for his flight. the wait in the flight. the wait in the taxi going to the hospital. it was eating him alive, and every single cell in his body was vibrating with fear.

in the midst of his panic, he had managed to text max and carlos, his two closest friends, letting them know of the situation. he knew that carlos was probably asleep by now, and would see the message in the morning, but max had responded immediately, instructing lando to let him know if he needed anything.

when he reached the hospital, he immediately ran to the front desk, asking for y/n. the nurse standing there almost looked afraid of him. his eyes were red, his hair unruly. he hadn't slept at all after the race, and hadn't eaten anything either. he felt weak, but he needed to see y/n. he needed to see his y/n.

before the nurse could say anything, a voice called his name. turning, he saw y/n's friend, the one who had answered her phone. rushing towards her, he let out his frenzy list of questions.

"is she okay? what happened? when did it happen? what did the doctor say?"

her friend didn't say anything, just quietly led him to her room. the wait to her room was excruciating as well, somehow worse than when he was on the flight.

standing outside her room, her friend turned to him and said, "it isn't my story to tell. it's hers. but, know this, lando, being with her, as a friend or boyfriend or whatever, it's with a ticking time bomb. one day, she is going to leave us. if you go in that room, know that you will have to prepare yourself for when the time runs out and it all explodes."

he heard her words. he registered them. maybe he should walk away. save himself the pain that would come with her inevitably leaving. he could. very easily, in fact. she wasn't awake. she didn't know he was here. he could ask her friend to not mention anything about him, and he could turn around and leave. he could.

but he didn't. why didn't he? why couldn't he? he knew he loved her the first day he met her. he knew he wanted to be in her life for as long as she wanted. if she was going to inevitably leave, he'd rather hold her hand till it went slack and cold. if she was going to inevitably leave, he'd rather love her, just so she went with a smile.

his hand was on the doorknob, and he turned it, pushing the door open.

she had tubes attached to her, and the steady beating of her heart was heard through the beeping. she looked small and frail. she looked like she would turn to dust if he touched her. her skin was pale, and her bones were so clearly visible. oh, his sweet y/n.

dropping his bag at the side, he sat on the chair beside her bed, slowly, carefully, picking up her hand, holding it, running his fingers over and over them, making sure she was real.

tears streamed down his face. why hadn't he noticed any of it before? why hadn't he pushed her for information when she changed the subject? he knew something hadn't been right, but he was stupid enough to ignore it. how could he have been so stupid?

lando's head rested on the bed beside their joined hands, sobs wracking his body. he had felt pain before. he had felt pain when his grandmother passed. he had felt pain when he read the hate comments about him. he had felt pain then. this pain was something he hadn't felt before, something that was completely incomparable.

he must've fallen asleep right there, the exhaustion of the race and the travel, the stress of all of it combined draining him physically and mentally. he woke up with a jerk, his neck aching. wiping the corner of his mouth, his eyes fell on the sleeping figure on the bed.

except she wasn't sleeping anymore.

"y/n!" he exclaimed, standing over her and checking every single part of her that he could see, as if the condition she had was external.

"i'm sorry i didn't watch the race. how'd you do?" she whispered, smiling gently.

lando huffed out a laugh, "as if i care about the race anymore," leaning forward, he pressed a kiss against her forehead.

"you scared me, lovie," he whispered, his forehead resting against hers.

"told you i was a storm you weren't ready for," she smiled, and god, lando wanted to kiss her. he wanted to kiss her so desperately.

"oh, you are a storm, alright, but i'm more than ready for you," he said, pulling back and settling on the uncomfortable chair again.

he stared at her for a few seconds, a little bit of his tension falling away. "why didn't you tell me?"

she hesitated, her mouth opening and closing as she attempted to explain to him, "i wanted to. at first i couldn't figure out how or when to tell you, and then i started worrying that if i did tell you, you'd leave. i didn't want you to leave,"

her voice was small, as if she was afraid that he would hear her, that he would confirm her fear. silly, silly girl.

he clasped her hand in his, pressing a kiss to her fingertips and he said, "y/n, i am crazy in love with you. have been from the day i met you. absolutely nothing will make me want to leave you,"

she stared at him, still chewing on her lip slightly, and then whispered, "what if i told you i had a dick?"

his brain froze for a second, but she smiled, and he laughed, and in his heart, everything was right again, "then, i'll figure out how sex works on the go,"

she laughed, and he smiled, and in his heart, the warmth spread again.

"do you really love me?" she asked, almost sounding broken.

"desperately," he said, without hesitation.

"you won't leave?"

"i'd rather drive with extremely old tyres on a wet track with no fireproofs than leave,"

she smacked his hand, "don't say that!"

"it's the truth,"

it was silent for a second.

"i love you too, by the way. i forgot to say that,"

lando laughed, "more than a friend?"

"way more than a friend,"

"y/n?"

"lando?"

"what condition do you have?" he was afraid of the answer. granted, he didn't know much about diseases and such. his knowledge of physical anatomy only went as far as understanding the risks of being an f1 driver and being in an f1 car.

"it's something complicated. it's a lifelong thing, and there's no particular cure for it. we found out in its early stages, which is why we started treatment early as well. the doctors told me that i'd have maybe twenty or thirty years more, but that death was inevitable. "

"oh,"

"yeah. my doctor in india recommended a specialist doctor here, and since my parents were already struggling a little bit with the costs, i got a scholarship, so that it was one less thing for them to worry about. i've made peace with the fact that i am going to die one day, lando. i know that it's going to happen, and i am ready for it."

"what if-"

"don't try and find a better doctor or something, lando. it's not going to work. whatever this is, it makes me physically weak and tired so easily. the walk from my apartment to the cafe sometimes tires me out so much. i can't breathe properly in it, i pass out way too often, i can't hold in any sort of food sometimes. my lungs hurt, and my arms and legs go numb, and it's a lot of things. and it's only going to result in one thing."

lando stayed silent. he didn't know what to say, and after everything that had happened in the past weekend, and now, his brain was taking time to process it.

"is that why you didn't reply to me for days sometimes? 'cause you were in the hospital?"

"mhmm,"

he tried not to cry. he really did. all he could think about was every time that he had assumed she was busy, or he had believed her excuses, she was all alone in a hospital with no one to take care of her, no one to protect her from this godforsaken condition. "why didn't you tell me? i could've been here with you? were you scared? did you have someone to hold your hand?"

"oh, lan," she cupped his cheek, as he sobbed.

"i'm gonna be here now. i'm gonna be with you now all the time. whatever happens, i'll be here, and i'll help you wherever you need me to,"

"you have a job, lando," she said softly.

"fuck that. i don't care about that anymore. i just care about you. don't leave me, please," lando was on his knees, holding onto her hand, sobbing as everything inside him broke.

"sang pyaar rahe mein rahun na rahu," she whispered.

"i don't know what that means, lovie," he sniffed, calming himself down, doing what oscar had done not twenty four hours ago.

"when i die-"

"y/n-"

"it's the truth, lando. when i die, look it up. okay?"

he nodded, promising her that he would.

things changed after that. of course it did.

lando spent every second possible with y/n, making sure that she was okay, and following the instructions she'd gotten from the doctor to rest more. he was there whenever she needed him, and now that she was more truthful about what was happening with her, lando realised just how much she had been hiding from him in the first place.

of course, lando had to go to the mtc for work often and the races, because it was his job at the end of the day, but he always made sure that she had someone with her, and had phone numbers of oscar, carlos, max f and max v, will and jon. any person who could easily get a hold of him when he was away.

he worried, and he knew she knew he worried. but she did love him for it. she told him so repeatedly. they hadn't kissed, even when weeks had passed from her last hospital visit where lando really found out about her condition. they hadn't kissed, and hell, they hadn't even talked about dating or anything of that sort.

lando supposed that they should, at least once. to clear out any misunderstandings, or to just be on the same page. but, they did have a mutual understanding that despite not talking about the change in their dynamic, they were together. like, together-together.

they still went on walks after dinner. it was the little bit of exercise that she got, and lando was determined to make sure that she was moving. the easiness between them was still present, except there was an added element of brushing fingers, casual touching, walking a step closer than normal. and then, it changed to holding hands when walking, which sometimes became lando's arm across her shoulder, tucking her to him, and sometimes it became her hand tucked in the inside of his elbow.

lando knew that people watched, that there were cameras everywhere, but with her, it was the least of his worries. it was during one of their walks when he kissed her for the first time.

he hadn't planned on doing it. she had ice cream stuck to her lip, and lando wanted. whether he wanted the ice cream or just her, he refused to acknowledge. he had kissed her, and she had kissed him back, and they had been unable to wipe their smiles off their faces.

it felt like kissing once took away any tension between the two, because then, they were kissing all the time. little pecks of hi, i love you. make out sessions in his car or her apartment, or even the little alley beside her apartment building. forehead kisses when she felt particularly weak, or when she had to be in the hospital. love bites of when they got carried away, and then lando took pictures (but no one else had to know that).

they were happy. they deserved that happiness.

but the dark cloud was still looming over their heads, and as much as lando tried to avoid it, as much as he tried to forget about it, every trip to the hospital had reminded him that there was only one way their story was going to end and he needed to prepare himself for it.

every time, his girl saw him struggling. she knew. and every time, she only ever told him, "sang pyaar rahe mein rahun na rahu,"

he still didn't know what it meant. he had wanted to look it up, but he also remembered his promise to her. sometimes, late at night, when she would be asleep, curled up next to him, he would repeat the words over and over again in his head.

a year after they'd started dating, y/n made her official debut as his girlfriend at the monaco grand prix. she wasn't allowed to travel a lot, especially by air. the only few times that she travelled was when her parents had taken her to another doctor halfway across the world back when lando and her were still friends, or for when she visited india, which was also rare.

of course, his friends in the paddock had met her before. but, a lot of people were going to see her in person for the first time after only listening to lando talk about her non-stop.

she was immediately loved by everyone she met, and lando felt pride running through him. he was also a little aroused. the love of his life fit so well with his work life, it made him love her more.

before he got in the car, she pressed a kiss to his helmet and whispered the words again, "sang pyaar rahe mein rahun na rahu,"

the words sounded beautiful, and a part of lando hated that it was associated with something so haunting.

when he won the race, he immediately ran to her, picking her up, as she celebrated with the rest of the team as well. his helmet wasn't even off, before he was hugging her and begging her to move in with him.

she had agreed, because of course, she had.

so, they moved in soon after the race. lando didn't let her do much of anything, insisting that him and the boys had it under control. the boys being max f, carlos, ginge, niran, max v, oscar, and george. how that group of friends came together? lando didn't know. all he knew was that he texted on his chat groups about needing help getting her all moved in, and people showed up at her apartment with coffee and food in their hand.

soon after she was properly moved in, the couple had to christen their home, of course. lando had loved every giggle, every moan, every whimper she had given him. he had savoured every one of them, because as happy as he was, the fear was still rooted in him that it might be the last time he would ever hear it.

there were some days when her health was a lot worse. some days when lando thought that she was right at doorstep of death. she always came back to him, and for that he was eternally grateful. she would make some silly comment and laugh and joke with him, as if they weren't in a hospital room and she didn't have multiple tubes attached to her.

he indulged in her coping mechanism. lando understood the need to add humour to serious situations. he knew that while she was comfortable with the idea that she was going to die soon, she was still scared. she hadn't spoken to him about it explicitly, maybe to spare his feelings. but he noticed, with the way she was slowly making plans for the future for him without her. he noticed, with the way she began speaking about other women, women who would come after her.

he hated it. hated that she was still thinking about how he would live after her, when honestly, he didn't think he would be living after her. he would just be surviving, and he would just be breathing for the sake of it.

they did fight sometimes. mostly on the days when she was feeling more insecure about herself. those were usually the days she would cry, sitting in the corner of a room, hiding away from him. but he found her, he always did.

in fact, it was during one of those fights when lando asked her to marry him.

"maybe we shouldn't be doing this,"

"do what, lovie?" he was patient, and in the back of his mind, he knew what she was talking about, but he refused to acknowledge it unless she came out and said it herself.

"this. us."

"and why is that?" his lovie was a logical person, he knew that. between the two of them, he was more emotional than she was. it was during times like these, when her logic seemed to be on vacation, and her emotions sat at the control centre in her brain full time that lando began logical.

"lando, i'm going to die!"

"i'm aware." his responses were pissing her off, he knew. it was deliberate, though. he'd rather she felt anger than sadness.

"lando!" she yelled at him.

sighing, lando faced her, crossing his arms across his chest, his ankles crossed as well.

"we've been over this, y/n, i'm not leaving." he said firmly.

"you should! save yourself! for fuck's sake, why are you with a dying person?"

"don't say that."

"don't say what? that i'm dying? newsflash, lando, i am dying! i'm playing pretend with you, i'm pretending that i'm not going to die, just like you do-"

"i don't pretend. i know you're going to-"

"it doesn't seem like it!"

"then, what do you want me to do? do you want me to scream and cry and only ever think about you dying? y/n, i'm constantly worried about you-"

"i don't want you to be-"

"yeah, well, that's not in your hands, now is it? i love you. i chose to love you before i knew about your condition, i chose to love you even after you told me about it. i am choosing you every second of every day because i fucking love you. and if you can't see that, then i can't help you!" they were both screaming now.

"then, stop choosing me!"

he froze.

she continued, "stop choosing me. live your life. you're 30 for god's sake, you spent half of your twenties taking care of me. it's enough. go out and party. meet women who are healthy and don't need breaks in between of sex! be with someone who can come to all of your races instead of just one! be with someone normal!"

"stop telling me to go out and live my life, for god's sake! i am living my life! why can't you see that? i am living my life, right here, with you, because this is how i want to live it! i don't want someone healthy or whatever, i want you! why can't you understand that?"

"you're wasting time-"

"i'm spending my time perfectly. i get to decide that. i get to decide what's a waste of time and what's not. just because you think i'm wasting my time being with you does not mean that it's true. it does not mean that i think the same as you."

"lando, i don't want you to regret ruining your twenties or your thirties for me! i'm replaceable! i'm going to die, and you will find someone else, someone better, and you're going to regret me!"

he took big steps, covering the distance between them. he grabbed her jaw with one hand, his other arm going around her waist.

"the only thing i'm regretting right now is making you feel like any part of me would ever think of replacing you. y/n y/l/n, get this drilled into your fucking head. i am going to marry you. i am going to marry you and i am going to give you everything you could ever want, material and otherwise. i love you. i. love. you. there's nothing i'm wasting or regretting. hell, i have the ring in the sock drawer right now. was gonna do it on our anniversary. not anymore."

she was crying. god, he hated when she cried.

"i'm going to put that ring on your finger right now, and then i'm going to remind just how much i love you any way you want. i am not leaving. i never wanted to, i never will. do you understand?"

she nodded, as much as she could with his hand on her jaw, keeping her in place, "i understand."

"good." lando kissed her hard, desperate for her.

before the kiss could turn into something else, lando turned and quickly walked to their bedroom, and then the walk in closet. pulling open the sock drawer, lando pulled out the ring box, and returned to where she was still standing.

dropping to his knee, he opened the ring box and presented it to her, "i don't care how long we have. i just know that i have now with you, and i want every nows that you're willing to give me. marry me, lovie?"

she was crying, and lando hoped that it was tears of joy.

"yes, i'll marry you," she whispered. lando slid the ring onto her finger, kissing the back of her hand.

"thank you," he said.

she laughed, still crying, "did you just thank me for saying yes?"

"hey, you were a fan of me before we met, you know i'm a pain in the ass when it comes to relationships. you agreeing to marry me just proves that someone went back in time, moved a chair somewhere,"

she laughed again, and lando wrapped his arms around her, pressing his face in her neck.

"i love you so much, lovie. i hate that you can't see it. i love you so so much," he whispered.

"i'm sorry i keep pushing you to leave me. i'm sorry i keep doing that. i love you so much too," she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close to her.

pulling back a little, lando kissed her. and again, and again, and again. their plan to immediately text all their friends and families had to wait until the next morning. they got a little busy, they're a young couple, people understand.

things changed after that. she changed after that. in a good way. she was happier, and had more energy.

lando loved seeing her like that. she had almost immediately began wedding planning, sitting with both families, asking his opinions on things.

she wanted to do an indian wedding, and so they decided to do the "western" wedding, as she called it, before, and during one of the breaks, they would do the indian one as well, since that required more time.

she went ring shopping for him, went flower shopping, pulled him along for cake tasting, talked his ear off about invitations and venues, and just about everything. and lando loved it. he listened intently, he responded quickly, he gave his opinions, smiling when she said no and continued to plan the way she wanted.

it was during one of her family's visit to monaco that his future mother in law had confessed to him, "she always wanted to get married. we didn't know if she would ever have that opportunity. thank you for loving our daughter, lando,"

if lando cried while he hugged her, that was between him and his future mother in law.

the wedding date was in three months, and the closer the date got, the more excited, and healthier she got. three months had been the longest that she had stayed out of hospital. lando was thanking every deity in the universe for taking care of her.

the invitations had gone out, she had a bachelorette party, he had a bachelor party, their parents spent more and more time together, the love of his life was happy. everything was falling into place. slowly, but surely.

a week before the wedding, everything was set. the table chart was perfect, the photographers and videographers were set. lando planned to announce that he was married with a landolog. she had her dress, he had his tuxedo. she was going to stay over at her friend's place the night before the wedding. everything was perfect.

maybe lando said that too soon.

two days before the wedding is when it all went down.

the day had started normal. the couple woke up in bed, cuddling. they also did a little more than cuddling, before getting ready for the day. they cooked breakfast together, chocolate chip pancakes, and danced to music playing from the bluetooth speaker.

it was when she stood up with the plates from the table that she began to feel dizzy.

"lovie? you okay?" lando asked, a hand on her back, concern all over his face.

"um, i'm just a little dizzy, i think," she said.

lando immediately got up from his place, taking the dishes from her hand, and settling them on the table again.

"babe, look at me," he instructed softly.

she did as he asked, but her head began spinning more, and she felt like she was going to throw up, and her body was hurting.

"hurts, everything hurts, lan,"

he'd done this hundreds of time in the past four years. he knew the process, he knew who to call, what to do, everything. but still, panic flooded through him. a bad, bad feeling settled in his gut, and he knew something was going to be horribly wrong.

sitting her down, lando ran to their bedroom, throwing a tshirt on, picking up the emergency hospital bag, and grabbed his car keys. going back, he gently picked her up. she was crying now, mumbling about how it was all hurting too much, and she didn't know how to stop it.

he drove way over the speed limit. whatever ticket he would get, he was fine with it. he didn't care at that moment. on his way, he called up his mom, letting her know that he was taking y/n to the hospital, and asked her to let her family know, and to let max and carlos know.

they immediately admitted her when he reached the hospital. they told him that she was in critical condition and that he wouldn't be allowed to see her. he begged, argued with them that he was her fiance, that they had to let him see her. the doctors refused, and lando ended up sitting in the waiting room, leg bouncing, his head in his hand, trying not to cry, not to lose hope.

their families had arrived quickly, along with max and carlos. they asked him what the doctor said, he repeated the message like a robot.

his mother sat on one side, and he immediately leaned his head on her shoulder. she was saying something. they were all saying something. but, he couldn't hear them. he couldn't hear them anything other than the blood rushing, other than his pounding heart.

it was after hours when the doctor finally came back, calling out her name. their big group stood up all at once, desperate to know whether their daughter, their sister, their friend, his fiance was okay or not.

before the doctor could say a word, lando knew. lando knew what had happened, lando knew. the grim face, the head shake. he said something, something like, "i'm sorry, we couldn't save her. her condition got way worse, and we just couldn't control it."

the doctor was saying words. her mother was wailing, her father and her brother trying to console her. someone ran out, her friend maybe. lando didn't know for sure. the doctor kept apologising.

he fell to the floor, his heart hurting, his head hurting. he was crying. maybe. he wasn't sure. he didn't know. maybe he was crying. maybe he was sobbing. maybe he was saying something. maybe maybe maybe. all he knew that max had his arms around him, and all he knew was that his father was saying something in his ear. carlos' hands were on his shoulders. they were all saying something, but lando didn't know. he didn't care.

she was gone. the love of his life was really gone. she had left him, just like she had told him that she would. she was gone, and he would never see her again, and he would never hold her again. he would never get to listen to her talk or laugh. he would never get to tease her, and he would never get to be with her again.

the doctor allowed them to see her. they went in groups. her family went in first, and then his. her friends then went, and then max and carlos. he went in last. why? he didn't know. probably because he knew that if he saw her, it would be too real for him.

and he was right.

seeing her in the hospital bed, with no tubes attached, he broke down again. he fell into the seat beside her bed, gripping her hand, just like he had the first time he found out about her condition.

"don't leave me, lovie. please. come back to me. come back home. don't leave me, im begging you, please, y/n, please, please, come back home." he cried.

he wanted her to open her eyes. he wanted her to wake up and tell him that she was fine. he wanted her to hug him and let him know that everything was going to be okay. he wanted her, he wanted her, he wanted her.

lando didn't know how long he sat there, numb and crying, staring at the love of his life's face. the face that would never cheer for him again, the face that would never let him know what she was thinking. the face that he wouldn't see at the end of the alter anymore.

eventually, someone came in, and took him away. he didn't know who. they told him that her parents were discussing the funeral and making plans. they told him that her parents were going to do it according to their rituals, and lando had the option to participate in it.

nothing made sense to him.

their wedding day, the day that she had worked so hard for it to be perfect and to be everything the couple ever dreamed it would be, became the day of her funeral.

the happiest day of his life became the worst day.

they went ahead with the indian rituals. her body was dressed in white, along with everyone present there. her body was kept on logs, and she was covered with it too.

there was an indian priest, reciting something. lando didn't hear. he stood alone towards the front, staring blankly at where her body lay. her brother was holding a log, with the top of it covered in a cloth and was on fire.

the priest said something, and her brother went around, lighting the log bed on fire. when he had done it from all sides, he kept the log on top, slowly watching as it all burned.

as she burned.

lando wanted to jump in the fire. he wanted to jump in the fire and go with her, wherever she was going. he wanted to jump in the fire and die with her, because he couldn't live in a world where she wasn't living.

a hand was on his shoulder, and lando heard her father, "thank you for loving my daughter, lando. thank you for making her happy."

"she wanted to get married. i couldn't give her that." he said, almost monotonously.

her father chuckled sadly, "i remember talking to her the day she moved in with you. said that the two of you were like an old married couple. reminded her of her grandparents and how in love they were,"

lando smiled sadly.

"don't lose touch, son. you are still family. we'd hate to lose our son-in-law too,"

lando cried silently. he didn't know how to stop.

"this was the ring she was going to give you today." her father said, opening his palm to present a thick silver ring with small diamonds all around. it was a simple ring. it was his style too.

lando hesitantly picked up the ring, looking at it. there was an engraving on the inside, and lando realised that the words were written in hindi.

"can i ask you something?"

"sure, son,"

"what does the inside say?"

her father took the ring and checked, before saying, "sang pyaar rahe mein rahun na rahu,"

lando recognised those words.

"she said it to me a lot. before every race, every time she ended up in the hospital, any time that i was away from her, she said it to me. never told me what it meant. she just told me to look it up after she was gone." lando whispered.

"sang pyaar rahe mein rahun na rahu. it means that my love will stay with you, regardless of whether i'm there or not."

the words echoed in his mind. they were true. her love would stay with him till his last breath, whether she would or not.

he grieved all the time after that.

how could he not?

he had to continue to train, to race, even when he didn't feel like getting out of bed. he had to continue to fight in a championship, even when he didn't care about it.

his team, team principal, zak, oscar, almost every driver on the grid who he had been racing with for years, were worried about him. how could they not be.

lando barely smiled. barely spoke anymore. he trained, raced, went back home. there was no light in him anymore, no spark.

of course, the media, the other team principals weren't aware of the major shift in lando's life. they used his grief as a weapon against him. said the same things they had said the year he won for the first time. said the same things, that he was mentally weak, and whatnot.

lando didn't care. he didn't care about anything anymore. he didn't care about his helmets, or about streaming, or even about quadrant. he didn't care about racing anymore.

he'd heard whispers amongst his team that they were worried he would do something hasty on track and severely injure himself. he heard the questions from the media to oscar and andrea and zak about replacing lando, now that he just wasn't good enough and was past his prime.

it was funny they said that, because he was still winning races. he was still winning races or getting on podium. he just wasn't happy. he wasn't happy or satisfied, because every time he looked at the crowd, he looked for her face and she wasn't there.

the fans, the media, they all speculated about the wedding ring on his finger. they all questioned and made fun of the fact that he was so depressed after getting married, he had clearly made a mistake. they laughed, and their laughter was cruel. but lando hadn't said anything. he didn't know why. he just couldn't.

it was when max had moved back in with lando and was streaming one day that the world found out about the bitter truth. it was max who had finally revealed to the world, months after, that lando needed someone to take care of him, because he was grieving. he was grieving the loss of the woman he loved so much.

lando had thanked max the next day. thanked him for telling the world what he couldn't because he didn't want it to be true. he had cried that day, thanking max through his tears for taking the initiative and doing what he couldn't.

max had only repeated the words she said, "her love will stay with you regardless of whether she's here or not,"

lando knew that. he believed that.

her love would stay with him till he died, regardless of where she was here or not.

.・。.・゜✭・❤・✫・゜・。.

lemme know if y'all liked this! thank you for reading it! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

taglist: @maketheshadowsfearyou ; @anamiad00msday

[ddejavvu]

hear me out... spencer reid with hickeys I can imagine him getting all nervous and reader just gives him like 20 on his neck and he puts on a scarf and the next day Morgan tugs it off and l o s e s it poor thing WHAHHA

"That's... a new look." Morgan raises an eyebrow at Spencer's purple scarf with a confused half-smile on his face, like he's trying to be supportive for Spencer's sake but doesn't know how.

"I'm cold." Spencer blurts, avoiding the man's eyes and staring down at his paperwork. He's a behavior analyst, he'd pick his mannerisms out as shady if anyone else did it, but he can't seem to appear casual for the life of him.

"Okay..." Morgan sits cautiously at his desk, "Something eating you, pretty boy? I know we're not supposed to profile each other and all, but you seem tense."

"Nothing's wrong." Spencer dismisses in that same clipped, tight tone.

"Right," Morgan drawls, "Okay."

There's a moment of awkward silence in which Spencer scrawls in information on the form he's looking at, and Derek stares at him.

Then he tries making peace, "Here, uh, lemme help you with that."

"With what?" Spencer wants to glance up, but doesn't want to see any hidden amusement in his coworker's eyes, "I know how to fill this out."

"No, I mean-" Derek reaches over his desk, fingers outstretched towards Spencer's neck, "The- scarf."

Spencer jerks away like Morgan's touch will sear his skin, eyes wide and panicked, 'No!"

"Reid," Morgan drawls, hand still stiff in the air, "What's your problem, man?"

"I- It's nothing." Spencer huffs, "I'm getting coffee."

He stalks off to the kitchen, but Morgan isn't deterred.

"Pretty boy," He calls, rushing to join Reid at the counter, "Listen, usually when people show up with a giant scarf on and don't let anyone touch it, they're hiding a hickey."

"I'm not hiding a hickey," Spencer pours sugar into his coffee by the pound, nearly emptying the container as he stirs it in, "I'm going to file a workplace harassment complaint against you if you don't stop."

"Sensitive," Derek marvels, keeping the hand that's creeping towards the back of Spencer's neck out of the man's line of sight. Then, quicker than Spencer can stop him, he grabs hold of the purple cloth and yanks, revealing that Spencer was telling the truth.

He's not hiding a hickey, he's hiding twenty hickies. Fifty, maybe, Derek can't tell because they run into each other like someone had sucked him like a leech.

He doesn't care about being dramatic; his jaw drops.

"Holy shit!" Derek whoops, holding the scarf over his head and pushing against Spencer's chest when the man tries taking it back, "You're- Jesus, did Dracula get to you? Oh my god," He laughs, not even bothering to quiet down as Hotch stalks in, a stern frown on his face at the noise level.

"Give it back," Spencer manages to overpower Derek, only because the man is too busy jeering to use his full strength. Spencer wraps himself tight in the scarf once more, avoiding Hotch's eyes as he finishes stirring his coffee.

"I've gotta go break the news," Derek rushes out, headed straight for Penelope's lair, "Babygirl!"

The silence in the kitchenette of the BAU is stifling, and if Spencer weren't hiding an army of hickies so dark that they nearly painted him purple all over, he'd take off his scarf for some relief. He's silent as he finishes stirring his coffee, and tries to drown out Penelope's excited shriek.

Hotch makes quick work of the coffee pot, and stands beside Spencer to put minimal cream into the substance. Before he leaves, while Spencer is still sugaring up his concoction, he clears his throat.

"Congratulations," He murmurs as he claps Spencer on the back once, nearly ramming the man into the cupboards he's weakly clinging to, "I have an old turtleneck somewhere that I can bring you, if this is gonna be a regular thing."

[lostreverb]

bed chem (short n' sweet)

(colin zabel x fem!reader) your internship just got more interesting...

warnings / content: not really proofread, age gap (reader is 20-22, colin's like 32-34), swearing, perv!reader tbh, NSFW - masturbation (toys) + fingering (fem receiving), p in v

(this fic is a part of my short n' sweet collection!) a/n: every time i listen to this song i think of colin like he's just so... AHHHHHHHHHH i've literally had this idea since the album came out! tried to incorporate as many lyrics as i could idk how well i did tho!

--

the easttown police department wasn’t exactly a hub of thrilling action. that was probably a good thing for the town, but for you, it made the days of your internship drag endlessly. stuck behind a desk, processing minor domestic disputes and petty incidents, the hours stretched out. you couldn’t help but wish that, just once, you’d be allowed to join an officer out in the field. to witness a slice of the town's life up close instead of through dry reports. but no, you were stuck in the back office, relying on your imagination to fill in the blanks while you typed up incident after incident.

on this particular afternoon, you were making your way down the hallway with a precariously high stack of files balanced in your arms. you could feel the papers shift, hear the quiet rustle of their movement as they started to slide. panic gripped you briefly—this was going to be embarrassing. you were already imagining the cascade of documents scattering across the floor, how you’d have to drop to your knees and scramble to gather them up, probably while everyone watched. just as the stack tilted dangerously to one side, a hand swooped in, catching the top section before it could tumble.

"here, lemme help you with that," a man said, accompanied by a friendly smile. a smile too relaxed, too bright for this quiet, indifferent corner of pennsylvania.

grateful, you gestured toward your desk a few feet away. "thanks," you mumbled, trying not to sound too embarrassed as you placed the files down with a sigh of relief. he set the rescued papers down beside yours, glancing at you with a foreign look. like he actually saw you as a person instead of the intern that does the shit no one else wants to do.

"you doin' okay?" he asked. his concern seemed genuine, which again, took you a second to process.

"yeah! yeah, i'm good!" you responded, a little too enthusiastically perhaps, as you straightened the files in a futile effort to regain your composure. "thank you."

the man chuckled softly. "you know, sometimes it’s easier just to take the two trips." he shot you a wink that made your pulse quicken. "speakin' from experience," he added, leaning a little closer as if sharing a secret. "when i was in your shoes, i had to learn the hard way."

the chief called him over and, after a charismatic "duty calls" farewell, he walked off. you sat down at your desk, face hurting from the corners of your mouth being lifted for so long, but you couldn't bring them down.

you buried your face into your arms, letting your forehead rest against the cool surface of the desk for a few minutes. if anyone saw the flush creeping up your cheeks, you’d never hear the end of it. you took a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling, willing yourself to get back to work. but the more you tried to focus, the more impossible it became.

why? because guess whose office was in clear view of your desk? mare's. and guess who was now in mare's office quite adorably rehearsing a conversation with himself?

yeah... you were done for.

the man's lips moved slightly as if he was practicing lines for a play, his brow furrowed in concentration, and every so often, he’d run a hand through his neatly cropped hair, or shake his head in disapproval, looking entirely too charming for his own good.

you needed to find out who he was right away. what was he there to talk to mare about? was he a detective? why couldn't you stop thinking about him pinning you against a wall?

unable to live with the mystery you pushed yourself up from your chair and marched over to the nearest officer, your pulse still racing. "hey—uh, hello." you cleared your throat, trying to sound casual despite the warmth still lingering in your cheeks. "who’s the cute guy in mare’s office? you know, uh.."

wide brown eyes, chiseled jawline..

"navy jacket- big briefcase."

the officer looked up, raising an eyebrow at your blunt description before glancing toward the office. "county guy chief brought in to help with the katie bailey case," he replied nonchalantly. "last name's zabel if i remember right."

you nodded, pretending like that was enough to satisfy your curiosity, but then another officer nearby chimed in with a smirk. "that’s him? poor guy’s gonna be in for it."

they quickly devolved into their own conversation, talking shop and completely forgetting you were even standing there. under normal circumstances, their dismissal might’ve bugged you, but you had bigger priorities now.

back at your desk, you grabbed your phone and opened up a browser, your fingers flying across the screen. within moments, you’d found him. detective colin zabel of delaware county. recently praised for solving a cold case involving a missing 10-year-old girl—a feat that had earned him respect in the force and beyond.

you couldn’t help but grin. of course he was the hero detective. it made perfect sense. but now that you knew who he was, it didn’t make the butterflies in your stomach any easier to ignore.

when mare had finally arrived, you watched the awkward interaction between the two of them. colin outstretched his hand only for her to disregard his formalities. you saw it coming, but it didn't make it any less painful to observe.

you waited until she had left (which wasn't very long) to discreetly travel over to the office. the door was open so you knocked on the frame.

"it's not personal. she's got a lot going on" you said with an understanding smile.

at the sound of your voice, colin turned around, giving a deflated chuckle towards your remark. "you er- saw that whole thing?"

"my desk is right there" you said, pointing, the two stacks of files barely touched. "sorry i kinda.. visually eavesdropped"

"no worries-" colin briefly smiled at your humorous confession then looked away. "uhhhhhh- did you need somethin'?"

"just wanted to introduce myself" you said, extending your hand out. "i'm y/n"

when he firmly took yours in his, your eyes couldn't help but flicker down and notice the veins that decorated them. a thought crossed your mind about where they might show up on other parts of his body.

"that's a pretty name"

you looked up from the grip your two hands were intertwined in, colin's attentive dark eyes on you.

"thank you.." you said softly, pulling away. shit, why were you out of breath? "uhm- i read about that... that case you solved? amazing work"

"oh- that was- i'm not-" he scratched the back of his head, trying to find words to minimize the accomplishment. you didn't know what was more attractive—hearing him stumble over his words or his humility. "we brought her home you know? that's what matters"

you nodded earnestly in response. "100%... well let me know if you need anythin'. i know people here can be a bit closed off but it's not all that bad."

"yeah thanks... nice to know i got a friend already" he smiled.

a friend... for now.

--

seeing as he was always in the back of your mind, and you couldn't care less about filling out reports, daydreaming about colin became your favorite past time. and every smile, every corny joke he greeted you with only fueled your crush.

it wasn't long before you noticed he had his eyes on mare, but the way he stared at you while you spoke about your criminology major... crossing his built arms, leaning forward on his desk to show you he was really listening. the way he'd routinely check on you and stop by your desk to chat....

for god's sake he started to get you coffee every morning.

there had to be something there... right? something more between you than mere camaraderie.

you definitely thought so. and thought about it often.. in bed.

eyes closed, you pictured colin's body hovering over yours. you could discern his toned figure from the form fitted button-ups he wore.. he'd have absolutely no problem picking you up and turning you over, manhandling you... though he probably wouldn't. he's too sweet for that. so sweet... and yet no ring? colin seemed like the type of man who should've had a wife and 2 kids by now...

maybe you could be the one to give that to him.

not now of course.

one day though.

still thinking of him you reached down into your panties, playing with your delicate folds in the caring manner you imagined him to have.

"so beautiful" he'd whisper, pumping two slick digits in and out of you at a sensual pace.

gasping moans escaped from your mouth as your fingers moved faster, the squelching sound of your fluids filling the room.

"that's it... god, i love how y'sound..."

belt unbuckled, he'd pull down his pants and boxers in one swift motion revealing his hard cock ready to drive into you. from underneath your bed you grab your dildo—oversized and veiny as colin would be and removed your now-soaked underwear.

he'd smile against your lips as he slotted himself between your legs, your body accommodating as he entered. after he'd ask (quite endearningly) if you're okay, you'd quickly nod, giving him permission to continue.

you try to imagine the expression of lust on his face... the sound of his deep groans in your ear as you fucked yourself gently, attempting to emulate your bodies rocking together in synced movement, the riveting sensation of the veins against your walls sending shockwaves through your body.

"fuck... oh my god" you panted, feeling the heat build up in your core. you were close.

"let go, i've got you... taking me like this, you're doing so well... makin' me feel so good..."

you increase the pace at which you pummel the dildo into your quivering cunt, eyes rolling back as you reach your climax, your body left trembling.

with colin, your sure you'd probably both arrive at the same time.

but for now you just had to live with unsatisfaction of not feeling his warm release coating your insides.

--

the next morning the chief had called you into his office.

a grin spread on your face as the he detailed the new program the department was implementing, how you'd finally be able to shadow an officer like you'd hoped when you first applied for the internship.

"any officer you have a preference to be paired with?"

you turned your head and caught colin's gaze through the office window. he was deep in conversation with mare, but when he noticed you, he gave a small wave. you smiled back, feeling a slight flutter.

"yeah, i’ve got someone in mind."

--

extra note: part two coming (hopefully soon!) it'll be based off the song "busy woman"!

tags (ask to be added or removed anytime!): @fear-is-truth @juliamaximoff @jazz-berry @violetsghosts @quickreider @tiffysdeath @honeymoon8

[pryllee]

7 minutes in heaven, or 7 hours.

Blade x AFAB! Reader

Dubcon, stomach bulge, kinda degradation/praise kink, slight mean blade with a sprinkle of softheartedness, cunnilungus/fingering, riding, jealous reader, kinda jealous blade ”ugly body” rejections whatever mentioned in start, hickeys/marking, tit sucking, bit of possessiveness in both so the feeling can be mutual, small breeding kink mention

A/N: I get pretty awkward and cringey while trying to write fuck parts so I hope anyone who reads this finds this good. And maybe I'll make HCs with him taking care of a child next time... If anyone wants that. 🥲

—

As depressed you already were, it already sucked even more with each rejection that slapped you at the face. You slammed the can of alcohol onto the table as Blade just watched leaning his head onto the wall.

"Ugh these fuckin' asses..." You held onto your head annoyed as hell,

"You know, we should be heading back now." He scanned you, before looking away again to try avoid your ’fiery fists’

You complained, slamming a fist onto the table almost making it break. "Oh c'mon don't make it worse than it already is! These idiots have the nerve to call my body unattractive, they might've just had atleast one more kiss before they died, no? Not like they were any better..." Silently whispering the last part.

Your brows furrowed noticing him staring off into the distance, probably at someone. You tried to find the direction he was looking in, and found a pretty girl almost your height, but her curves really showed through that waitress uniform.

A small ’oh’ of disappointment almost escaped your lips, making your eye twitch. "Maybe your right. Lets go." You grabbed the can with half of alcohol left.

Your walking almost felt like you were stomping leaving Blade barely confused, more like unfazed as he found this normal.

—

You noticed the place felt a little lonely, you didn't hear much till you advanced inside further and noticed some of the stellaron hunters and probably new recruits due to some unfamiliar faces along with Kafka on the side and Silverwolf. "Hi, [ Y/N ]. Nice to see you've brought Blade along with you." Kafka smiled as Silverwolf blew gum up, tapping away on her gaming console.

"Whats going on? They playin' spin the bottle?" You pointed drunkly with drool almost oozing out of your mouth. "Hmm...—seven minutes in heaven or whatever." She waved her hand as her back leaned against a pillar.

What is with these people leaning against shit? Just how disinterested really are they?

"Lemme participate." You spoke as you squeezed in a spot in the circle pushing some people aside joining the weird circle formation that felt like a cult. "What about you, Bladie? Won't you join her too?"

"Not interested. I don't really care about those type of feelings." He was about to walk away in the way both of you came, till Kafka offered him something.

"Hmm, I'm sure Silverwolf can secure you some time with her?" Pointing at her as he noticed a little wheel thing that controlled the bottle. "Unless you want her to give herself up to someone else, that is."

He clenched a fist tightly, loosening it quickly as he just also squeezed in a spot opposite of where you are.

He watched the previous can you held be thrown away assuming you already finished it or didn't and just hated the taste now. As the bottle kept spinning for some time, you wondered when it would land on you and choose a decent looking dude. Till it finally did. But then landed on Blade.

Your expression of happiness quickly went away realizing who else it landed on, would he even want to do spicy with you? If anything he'd probably rather do it with that stupid girl he stared at earlier. Maybe I should kill her. Whoops, thoughts got a little offtrack there.

The person on your right was nudging your shoulder to follow Blade in, as you quickly took a glance at Kafka feeling like something was up. And you were right cause something really was up. You followed him in, as he locked the door behind you both.

"So what do we do? Play cards? Or should we find that girls number?" You scoffed in annoyance wondering how the fuck you both even got paired up. Not like he'd find you anything more than friends.

-

You once planned to confess to him but as you were looking for him, you overheard some parts of a ’private’ conversation.

"Bladie, what do you prefer in a girl?" Kafka smiled, asking him. He just looked away as he looked in your direction, it felt like he saw you, but then it felt like he didn't as it really was just an open corridor thing.

"I don't know. I don't care about such things... But probably someone good with a sword and is stronger than me." He mumbled the last part, seemingly unsure of his words infront of Kafka as she'd probably do some weird shit.

"Oh? I thought you liked girls like [ Y/N ]?" She pried. "No... We're just co-workers, shes too bold for me too." He sighed, speaking in a low tone.

Just co-workers? Ha, is he fucking insane? Not even friends... But literal co-workers? You walked away holding onto your broken heart with tears bubbling up a little but you just wiped them away deciding to push your feelings away.

"Hmm... Poor [ Y/N ], seems pretty upset that she thought she was already rejected without the chance to even ask directly..." Kafka whispered in a low tone, glancing in the same direction he looked in previously.

"...Excuse me?" He asked, yet only got a headshake and ’nothing.’ in response. Did ’Elio’ also foresee this? How come Blade wouldn't get to know though? Well I guess he wouldn't need to since it's not related to the Astral Express or Stelle.

—

"Girls number? Who exactly are you talking about?" He asked, making the atmosphere even more awkward. "Oh please, don't act like I didn't see how you stared down that girl with ’beautiful’ curves in that stupid bar." You scoffed, crossing your arms.

"Is this seven minutes in heaven, or seven minutes in hell listening to you complain? And I didn't stare her down. I was just looking at her because ’curves’ were related in the stupid topic. You're the one who just stomped away like a furious little kid." His words hit you hard into the face, "And we aren't dating, I don't see how you're so pissed off about it."

You were practically seething in anger as you just turned around to go through the rooms backdoor to go outside. "And where are you going?" You felt him grip onto your waist, which sent shivers up your spine. "None of your business." You tried to push his hands off yet his grip only tightened even more.

"Blade..– Let go." Your breathing slowly became more and more hitched as the gap between you closed. Suddenly the lights went out and you heard Kafka announce something that made everyone walk away.

"Have fun, you two." Kafka whispered to herself, although she knew you couldn't hear.

"Hm? What happened, Kafka?" Silverwolf confusingly followed her from behind.

His chest pressed against your back, feeling his breathe becoming heavier as his hand slid down to your inner thigh, making you try to squirm out of his grasp almost instantly. "Blade stop—nnh.."

A soft low moan was made out as he caressed your clothed sex, you held onto the door infront of you, "Do you want me, [ Y/N ]?" He whispered into your ear. As short silence filled the room, he spun you around, lifting you up with his arms with your back pressing against the now locked door. "Answer me, you whore."

His eyes bored into yours. Your eyes darted everywhere trying to find a way to escape or somewhere decent to look at. "Whats with the act? How come you're so shy now?" He teased, chuckling, leaning into your lips. His tongue mixing with yours as you held onto him for Aeons sake, digging your nails into his back.

He pulled away with a string of saliva connecting from both of your lips, before leaning back down biting down on your tops button spitting each one out. "Do you really need to destroy my top? I could've just undo it by myself."

This felt like a dream come true, yet you also wished you would just wake up from it, it feels so wrong yet so right.

"Hmm... Can't have a pretty girl like you falling onto the ground now can we?" He held you with one arm now, with the other needily pushing the remains of your dignity away to reveal your chest. Yet another obstacle arised due to your bra. "Shouldn't we...—stop here? I'm sure it's already been seven minutes.." He shook his head, just pushing your bra down.

"Mmh, how cute, you're the one who wanted this for so long yet you're the one who also wants this to stop already." He bit down on your nipple, suckling on it like he tried to milk you,

"Maybe I should breed you with kids so I can suck alot of milk out of you, you'd probably like that, wouldn't you?" You moaned softly from time to time, covering your mouth with one hand as the other travelled up his hair,

"Mmngh... I— maybe...nnnh" you whimpered. His mouth was suckling one with one hand cupping the other and flicking at your now hard nipples leaving hickeys. You sobbed out his name softly, "I assume thats a yes? Can't believe how turned on you are when I'm only playing with your tits."

The previous hand that was cupping your boob slid down your pants, pushing it down along with your panty,

"Be a dear and say my name, maybe I'll help with that wetness down there then." His gloved finger ran down your slit, making you shudder,

"blade..." You mumbled

"Can't hear ya."

"Ugh... blade," You looked away embarrassed, your nails again digging into his back.

"Hmm?"

"Oh for Aeons sake, Blade please just fuck me!" You cried out in annoyance, the embarrassment was more than enough.

"Good girl." He lifted you over to a table, laying you on it with you facing him, "Wasn't so hard now was it?" He took his gloves off, pulling your pants off exposing your legs and cunt.

The tension got heavier with the bare cold hitting against your chest and lower half. He aligned two fingers with your hole, slowly pushing it in. "Be gentle—please..." You looked away,

"Mhm... And why should I?" He cooed "Could this be your first time?" You slightly nodded, as he just looked back at your hole, pushing his fingers in deeper forcing a moan out of you; "Ughh..—Blade! Nnh!" You cried, arching your back miserably, it hurt like a bitch yet slowly felt good.

He can't believe he almost gave your virginity up to someone else other than him, the fact you could've been moaning out someone elses name really is annoying.

His fingers thrusted in and out at a painfully slow pace, your walls tightened vigorously and it was so easy for him to access with how wet and slick your pussy already was for him. The pace got faster, with his fingers slightly becoming curled with each passing thrust adding another finger in.

"Fuck! Blade—nngh.. shit..." You cussed out clawing at the table feeling a knot in your tummy loosening, you came all over his fingers making a mess on the table. "Look at what a fucking mess you made, what a slut getting off with my fingers alone." He shoved his fingers down your mouth, onto your tongue,

"Lick it." You moaned softly to try and tease him, along with some sucking. "Ha, maybe I shouldn't have let you cum that easily." He flicked your clit making you yelp a little loudly.

The bulge in his pants was starting to become unbearable, but atleast it's time to actually have some intercourse. He undid his belt, slipping his pants off pulling you closer to him, sitting infront.

You became a tad bolder, holding onto his thigh and with the other hand you held onto his arm. "Sit still, pretty girl." he reprimanded,

He finally slipped his boxers down grabbing onto your ass lifting you up pressing your now dry saliva-ridden tits against his chest slightly with him holding his length, "Uhhm... Are you sure it's going inside of me?" You stared nervously at his length "Yes, and I'll make it fit if you're so worried about that." He spat on his hands, rubbing around it.

"Don't girls usually do that by sucking it?" You ask perplexed, "Mmh... They do, but I'm sure the both of us can't wait to start this fuckfest."

He chuckled again lowly, burrowing his head into the crook of your collarbone kissing it leaving a hickey as he blindly shoved it inside of your hole making your back arch, and tremble. His mouth travelled down again to your nipple, suckling on it and drawing circles around it with his tongue. He stuck his hand in place on your stomach feeling the bulge disappear and appear each thrust he does.

"Fuck—" low moans rolled off your tongue, "... Feels so good, Blade.." He sloppily thrusted inside, trying to find your g-spot, finally noticing you tighten arching your backing vigorously at one of the thrusts, thrusting again making you moan loudly.

"Shh. Do you want someone to hear us?" He shoved a finger in your mouth, spitting onto your tongue making you swallow it. "Such a whore, swallowing my spit so easily." He leaned in for another kiss, mixing saliva together once again sloppily thrusting rolling his tongue around with yours.

His thrusts got faster 'n deeper yet somehow still managed to hit your G-spot everytime, you threw your legs around him, and arms around his neck smashing your lips against him. "Fuck—I'm so close [ Y/N ]... He mumbled lowly with one of his hands travelling down to rub your clit furiously.

You creamed around his cock, liquids dripping down your thighs and his shaft furiously feeling yourself coming closer to your climax. You burrowed your head into his neck, messing his collar up and leaving small hickeys as you bit at him.

"Really what a whore, I can't believe you could've been like this with someone else." His words made you scoff slightly, "Neither can I." Grunts could be heard under his breathe and your moans getting louder and bolder till both of you came at the same time, white liquid filled your womb yet you still felt his length barely softening,

You tightened around him hard you could feel his cock pulsing inside of you, "Mmh.. Not done yet." He whispered, blowing into your ear having reality settle into your very veins.

"Don't tell me you still have stamina..." You said in a tired tone. "I do, infact I still do have enough till morning." He laughed leaving another hickey on your collarbone, biting on it feeling proud of all the markings hes made on you.

—

Light shined through the blinds, quite literally almost blinding you till you realized you have no idea where the fuck you are. You were in some weird house, in someones bed. You got up and noticed you were naked, hurriedly finding clothes to wear.

Till you noticed the closet was full of mens wear, yet you just grabbed whatever looked comfortable and strided out of that room... Which was probably Blades room. You noticed a mirror right when you stepped out, and saw hickeys everywhere on your collarbone and neck. "So it really wasn't a dream..."

"What wasn't a dream?" You saw him appear from the side holding a cup of coffee in different clothes for the first time. "Also you're wearing my clothes. They seem too big for you." He remarked, "Well obviously, I have no idea where the hell you threw my clothes off too and the tops buttons were torn off by you."

"Calm down you two, we don't wanna stir up trouble in this house, otherwise we'll be found out and chased out. Also stop with the love quarreling." Silverwolf sighed also in different clothes. "Okay why is everyone in different clothes for the first time? Am I going insane?" You rubbed your eyes.

"Now we may wear the same outfit for a long time but we definitely wear something else at night to sleep comfortably, thank you." She replied in an ’isn't it obvious?’ tone. Blade just leaned on the wall sipping the cup of coffee.

Silverwolf then seemed to remember something, hurriedly tip toeing over to you, "How was it?" She whispered in your ear. "What? How was what? I don't know what you're talking about." You flushed red running away to find the bathroom.

"The bathrooms the other way." He yelled loudly in an unfazed tone. "I KNEW THAT!!!" You screamed dashing the other way.

"Oh dear Blade... What exactly did you do to her?" "Nothing. Don't go thinking weird stuff about me now." He took another sip of his coffee before following in your tracks to also go to the ’bathroom.’

——

[moodymisty]

The words “blood hungry Sanguinius” in your announcement post activated all of my neurons at once. Anyway request time, lemme lay the scene. Sanguinius is in an established relationship, she’s a diplomat or his seneschal, somebody of great importance to him both personally and professionally. The planet they’re currently Crusading™ has put up enough of a fight to be troublesome but peace talks are finally happening, which our dear angel’s beloved is the head of. Except not everybody wants peace. Sanguinius has been waging war on this planet, not everybody is gonna be a fan but people also aren’t stupid enough to just pick a direct fight with the 10ft tall dude who could chuck a spear into space. So they aim smaller, where they know it’ll still hurt. An assassination attempt is made on his beloved. It fails, mind you, but it was too close for comfort. She was hurt and suddenly the great angel isn’t feeling so angelic. He wants cathartic visceral payback and his sons couldn’t agree more. Now that kind of adrenaline-fueled murder rampage will get anybody’s blood pumping so once he gets back he’s headed straight for their room. Obviously he’s relieved that she’s fine, patched up and everything at this point but she still smells like blood and sweat and he just desperately needs to know she’s okay. Needs to hear her voice crying out for him rather than in pain, feel her pulse against his lips. Needs to lick the blood off her. It’s precious after all, he’d hate for it to go to waste (and crucially of course he has to erase the traces of that attack, only he is allowed to draw blood from his beloved, nobody else gets to do that and live)

Do with these brain worms what you will, Misty. Go nuts ❤️

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author’s note: Thank you for the fucking FOOD, friend. I hope you enjoy it, I tweaked a tiny bit just to make it flow better in my head because it was going to keep getting longer if I didn’t stop send help

Relationships: Sanguinius/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, semi-graphic depictions of violence in the beginning, Blood drinking/licking/vampirey stuff, fingering, If you squinted you could consider this dubious consent because making out after a near death experience probably isn’t the best trauma response but it’s 40k so whatever, Slightly Yandere Sanguinus also to be honest

Sanguinus lets his perfect veneer fade for a moment, as he drifts off into thought. Tactical planning and logistics fade into the background, but Sanguinus can still comprehend it all and join back in a moment without anyone noticing.

She’s asleep right now, oh how I wish I could join her.

After a tense few weeks of failed diplomacy and eventual war, you needed rest; While Sanguinus needs such a thing much more rarely, he still wishes to join you. This whole debacle has been little more than aggravating to him.

While he is used to waging war like this, he knows you took this failed diplomacy as a failure for yourself. You’re still new to this, he knows it’ll fade with time but he wishes he could at least comfort you for a little while.

Though, this whole crusade has been less than what you all expected. Fierce electrical storms have made teleporting or even using Thunderhawks or smaller landers from the Red Tear to planet-side dangerous, so they’ve set up temporary base on solid ground while the war effort continues.

He hates the feeling of it; The nature of it being less secure. He knows you’re surrounded by Astartes, but these walls are old and they don’t know the landscape, or if this old fortress has anywhere to hide. This isn't their home territory, the safety of the cold, metal walls of the Red Tear and it's sister ship-

The door suddenly barges open, and in rush two blood Angels who's armor screeches as they freeze to a halt. It manages to startle Sanguinius somewhat, as his wings shift close to his body.

“Lord Sanguinus! Someone is attacking Our Lady!”

The sentence brings him to high alert even before they finish speaking and he’s already pushing past them to make his way towards you. He barely even notices the title they used for you, one that has only been said a handful of times as they slowly became used to your presence beside him.

Sanguinus is out of his armor at the moment, a rare time for him to stretch his wings and back after being in it for nearly a week straight, and the lessened weight makes his strides even faster as he races to you. His wings are tight to his body to avoid hitting anything or catching drag, and he hears the sound of bolters and ceramite plates crashing into weaker armor. He had them guarding the room at all hours, and as such was able to get alerted to the assassins- he assumes by their dark regalia and deftness- instantly.

“I want at least one alive! I want to know how they got past our perimeter!”

The first intruder he catches sight of has their shoulder blown away by a bolter shell before they could comprehend Sanguinus’ orders, and the second gets grabbed by an Astartes and yells in pain at the audible crack of bone. The third Sanguinus notices behind him and he batters him with the end of his wing, and an Astartes manages to obtain him by grabbing his neck. No matter how skilled they were, they stand absolutely no match to his sons. Even their advantage of surprise offered them nothing in the end.

Sanguinius eventually snags the last one and hands the wretch to his sons, and the lot are carried away.

They might be alive now, but once Sanguinus gets what he wants from them, they’ll wish they weren’t. Especially after he looks towards you.

Your sitting on the floor leaned against the wall, arms tight to yourself. He can see your thin nightdress is stained with blood at the neckline, and your arms also have small bits of blood. Your cheek has a small gash that’s growing a bruise around it, like it’s from a punch or slap.

You have an Astartes combat knife in your hands, blood soaking the blade. He knows you put up a fight despite the odds. It was probably you that alerted his sons.

He can hear them communicating amongst themselves, making sure the room and perimeter are clear. The assassins are removed and will probably get prodded around in by a curious techpriest in the future. He knew that a forward base such as this was a dangerous idea, and this only further cements it. Despite the meteorological issues.

Though his thoughts are on less immediate things, now that he knows you’re safe. His clears his throat slightly but the motion does nothing to distract him.

Something Sanguinius had learned in his younger years was that all blood is different; In taste, smell. Some of it is superior to others in those ways.

As while the room is soaked in blood, he can only smell yours.

“All of you check everywhere for any others. Leave us alone unless I call.”

The Blood Angels present hesitate to move, and their lieutenant speaks why. His helmet rests in his hands.

“Should we not stay to keep you both-“ Sanguinus turns to him and his voice is firm and unwavering.

“Go.”

The captain almost seems surprised, before placing his helmet back on. His men dip their heads for a moment and leave, closing the door and leaving the two of you alone.

The Primarch comes closer, lowering to his knee in front of you.

“You’re not hurt?” His hands grasp your shoulders, and you shake your head.

“No. Not badly enough to complain about at least.” Sanguinus lets out an audible sigh of relief.

He moves to let you stand, offering a hand you take for a moment. You move away to look into a mirror and splash some water on your face, wiping the blood away from it. It does nothing to cut the scent overwhelming the air that only he can parse.

“I’ve sent them to figure out how those men got in, and if there’s more.” You look up at him, before bending down to pick up one of his fallen feathers. He lost a few in the battle, as he does all the time. The Red Tear also has many strewn about in the places he frequents. You hold it in your hand and brush along the quill shaft, smoothing it. It’s a habit you’ve developed.

“Shouldn’t you go with them?” Sanguinus furrows his brow, confused.

“I want to stay with you, so I know you’re safe. And that you feel safe.”

The way you look up at him is worried; What could you possibly be worried about right now besides yourself? You were the one who was almost killed, because he was ignorant enough to bring you here, selfish because of his desire to keep you at his side. He kneels close to you, and tries to hold his breath as his mouth waters.

“What is it, my love?”

You look at him and continue holding his feather, seeing the way his eyes leer at you. You’ve seen it before, and it’s obvious why.

“Sanguinus, you’re hungry.”

How well you already know him, even after such a short period of time.

He gently cups a hand to the side of your face, before leaning inward.

“I’m sorry my love, I can’t help it, you’re like my own personal wine.”

His lips brush across your own, and he can suddenly taste the tiny droplet of blood from where your lip had split. You eagerly return his kiss and the desperation has you gripping him like a lifeline, as if your mind is finally catching up with what’s happened. He eagerly holds you back, his massive hands cupping your waist and swallowing most of it.

Before you know it, he has you in his arms, and he gently drops you onto the bed. It creaks and groans under the weight of him, but you’re little more than a feather to it.

He can see the cut across your collarbone; They must’ve tried to put a knife to your throat, and cut along below it instead. Your heart beat rushes just underneath it.

“Let me help you forget all of this ever happened,”

He whispers, half lost on the smell of your blood. You still feel almost stunned, like everything is a dream, but you’d never refuse him with how safe you always feel in his arms.

Sanguinus’ hands drift up your nightdress until it’s off of you, the stained fabric getting tossed aside.

He leans down to drag his lips along the cut of your collarbone, tongue sweeping away any traces of blood. The droplets that ran down your sternum get wisked away as well, his tongue traveling between your breasts.

He would hate to see it be wasted. The ones who spilled it and attempted to do worse will spill their secrets, and suffer for what they’ve done.

He’ll keep his head turned if they end up bloodless as well. His sons can sate their appetites on them and he’ll mind little.

Meanwhile you writhe underneath him, a hand on your shoulder holding you down while the other presses down close to your hip. Your free hand grasps at him, nails digging into his skin. He hears you saying his name, whispering it like a prayer, but he can barely hear it over the sound of your heart in his ears.

He can stay under control, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t test his willpower.

He loves to call you his wine; Though in some ways it’s almost as if you’re a drug he can never allow himself to have too much of, lest he get lost in it.

His left hand drifts closer and brushes over your hip, his massive palm dwarfing your smaller body. His fingers push between your thighs with ease, and he slips his fingers into your folds and hears the way you whimper at the soft touch. It isn’t long before they press against your entrance and slowly he teases one inside, before slipping in another once he’s readied you enough for it.

He feels the heat of your body as he presses his hand against you, all the while his face never leaves your neck. It’s an awkward angle for him at his overwhelming height, but he makes it work. His teeth ever so gently scrape across the pulsing vein of your neck where old scars from him lie, and he feels the way you shiver.

His fingers curl inside of you as his lips press hard against your neck, tasting every last little bit of blood until your skin is clear apart from the thin sliver of red.

He leans away and presses his lips to yours again, catching your bottom lip between his own. The cut on your lip had just stopped bleeding but his rougher kiss aggregates it enough to make it bleed just a tiny bit more, and you moan into his mouth as he tastes it.

Your hand desperately grasps at his own pressing against your shoulder, trying to grip his fingers and keep you grounded. He loves the way you writhe underneath him, earlier events completely forgotten.

He pulls way from your lips with a soft pop and his hot breath returns to your neck.

He wants to bite it so badly. It’s tormenting him, eating at him. But then he feels when he finally reach your peak, tightening around him and crying out to him in pleasure and not pain. It’s like music to his ears, after hearing your heart race so much in fear barely hours ago. To hear you call his name not to save you but to have him make you feel like this.

He pulls his lips away from your neck as you catch your breath. Another time.

His wings droop slightly, though even folded they take up so much space, shadowing so much more than just your body. They drop even more, and it almost feels like he’s trying to surround you with them and his body.

He gently pulls his hand from your folds but you feel his finger brush against your inner thigh, and the corners of his mouth twitch as you shiver and tense.

“I will never allow your life to ever be threatened again,”

He says, a part inside of him fuming at the fact it happened to begin with. He shouldn’t have been so presumptuous, careless, though deeper down he knows he did everything he could. He’ll do more now. His sons are becoming used to you, accepting of you, they’ll do it with no complaints.

You look up at him with soft, shining skin; Lips swollen. He wishes he could stay for longer, and take advantage of his time without his armor.

“Just don’t worry yourself into dropping feathers,” You joke and smile, voice slightly hoarse. He can still hear your heartbeat racing in his ears, but it’s calming down as you lay underneath him.

Sanguinus laughs and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. He swallows down his only partly sated hunger for another time.

“I’ll try not to.”

[theworldofotps]

Pushed Away

Pairing: Bayley x Reader Word Count: 1,284 Description: In the weeks leading up to Mania, Bayley feels lost and pushes her girlfriend away.

@madhatterbri here you are lovely I hope that you enjoy it! Thanks for sending the request in.

No there is no part two _________ Tag list: @omg-im-such-a-masochist @melissahausen​ @new-zealand-chic​ @writtingrose @99hook @madhatterbri @sjwrites22​ @sassymox​ @mrsacklesevansmgk​ @xladyxfatex​ @adamcolesbaybay @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @demonqueen29​ @itsicantbelievethis666​ @lilred91 @rebellious-desires​ @claymorexpunisher @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie​ @shortyiceheart​ @serpantscorpio8497​ @thatpanpal​ @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart @vebner37 @seeingstarks​ @whenimakeitshine1234​ @legit9thlunaticwarrior @blaquekitty @ironshamelessyouth @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin​ @ripleyswhore @moonrosekk @xbreezymeadowsx @alyyaana  @elevennbloom @melblacc @alliwant456  @mcreignsera @auburnwrites​ @aews-four-pillars If you wanna be added to the list lemme know. _______ Bayley knew that something wasn’t right when her group started acting weird around her, not replying much in their group chat. Excluding her from nights out or just finding reasons why they couldn’t travel together. So, when they jumped her in the ring after she overheard them talking about her backstage Bayley felt betrayed. She had put so much into this group trying to make them the most dominant women’s fraction that had ever existed in WWE. The people she had considered her friends deserted her like so many before.

Originally when she won the rumble, she was going to face Rhea that way she and Iyo could be at the top of the women’s division together. That all changed the moment she realized she couldn’t trust them anymore. Bayley knew that the weeks leading up to Mania were going to be brutal she’d have to go after those she cared about. And given what Damage Control had done to the women’s division she knew that help wouldn’t be easy to find.

Every week she’d be looking over her shoulder waiting for an attack and every time it came, she felt like she was losing sanity. Bayley felt like she couldn’t trust anyone, not even the person who had been there from the start of it all from the moment she joined the main Roster. Her girlfriend Y/n. Someone she cared for more than anyone else she worked with.

After Bayley had limped to the locker room and changed after another attack she came out and spotted Iyo and Dakota talking to y/n. Her heart broke and not thinking in her right mind Bayley knew she needed to watch herself, even if that meant pushing Y/n away.

“Have you seen Bayley?”

Y/n asked for the fifth time to one of her coworkers when her girlfriend hadn’t returned any of her texts or calls. She wanted to be sure the other woman was alright after what happened in the ring and still hadn’t been able to reach or find her.

“Zelina! Please have you seen Bayley? I’ve been looking all over for her, and I haven’t been able to find her.”

“Yeah, I saw her limping outside to an uber, I thought the two of you left together?”

“We were supposed too that’s why I drove the rental here, but she must have been hurting really badly and just didn’t bother to wait.”

“Possible she did look to be in a bit of pain medical probably told her to just take it easy and rest. Let me know if you need anything once you check in on her.”

“Thank you I appreciate that.”

After saying goodbye to her friend Y/n continued to the parking lot and got in her rental heading for the hotel. She was still a bit concerned about why Bayley hadn’t answered any of her attempts to reach her but chalked it up to her possibly being in the shower. Once y/n finally made it to the hotel and up to their shared room she swiped the key card and peeked her head inside expecting to see Bayley laying on the bed. Instead, the room was empty, looking around the room she spotted the area that their suitcases had sat and only hers was there. A heavy feeling began to grow in her stomach as she searched for a note, finally she spotted one on a piece of hotel paper.

Dear y/n, I know you’re probably freaking out right now wondering where I am and what’s going on. Don’t worry about me, I just need some space to think. I seen Dakota and Iyo talking to you after I got cleaned up and I just can’t risk another person I care about turning on me. I know it’s not fair to just assume you would, but I need to be careful. I’m sorry if this hurts you but I need to do what’s best to ease my mind until this whole thing with Iyo and Damage Control is over. I don’t have anyone at work to support me against the four of them and if I want to be able to beat Iyo at Wrestlemania I need to be focused. Don’t take it personally but this is what I have to do. I need to protect myself and I don’t think I could take it if they used you to get to me. It would just about end me.

Bayley

Reading the note for a third time y/n sunk onto the bed staring off as she tried to think. She knew the group turning on Bayley had really shaken her confidence. That and the attacks Damage Control did while together took away every possible ally she could have. Or so she assumed, Y/n had spoken to Naomi and she felt for Bayley knowing sometimes you let things just go to your head.

Iyo and Dakota had been talking to y/n that was true, but it was only to see how Bayley was handling the storyline, she didn’t realize until this moment that it was going harder for Bayley than she imagined. Setting the note to the side y/n made the decision to respect her girlfriend and give the space she was asking for even if it was hard. And the three weeks that followed were very hard, seeing Bayley struggling on tv despite having Naomi’s help. Hearing her backstage trying to make amends so someone could take care of the rest of Damage Control so she could deal with Iyo. It wasn’t easy for y/n to sit by and watch, seeing the dismay on her face at every rejection.

When Jade, Bianca and Naomi decided to team up and fight Damage Control at Mania you were relieved. Now she could hopefully have some peace of mind going into her match. Y/n still hadn’t received any more text messages from her apart from the occasional check in text. It made her feel a little better knowing she still cared enough to look in after her girlfriend. The bed was lonely at night and deep-down part of her was hurt that Bayley didn’t trust her enough to know she’d never turn on her.

So, it was much to her surprise when she got a knock on the hotel door at nearly eleven thirty after the first night of Wrestlemania. When y/n saw that it was Bayley on the other side she opened the door confused.

“Bayley? What are you doing here?”

“I needed to see you, can I come in?”

“Yes of course come on.”

Stepping back, she let the other woman in the room and gently closed the door behind her, watching as Bayley looked around the room. Y/n couldn’t help noticing the dark circles under her eyes but remained silent.

“I’m so sorry y/n I’m so damn sorry.”

She said as tears sprung to her eyes and she covered her face, y/n frowned walking over and just as she started wrapping her arms around her. Bayley’s legs gave out, y/n quickly did her best to lift her and got them onto the bed where she held her girlfriend close.

“You’re okay, you’re just tired and you need to let it out you’ve been driving yourself crazy these last few weeks and you’re probably nervous about tomorrow.”

“I’m scared I’m not going to be able to do it, I think I can but I just part of me is scared I’m going to fail and lose this moment.”

“Don’t worry I’m right here and we can work it out together.”

Y/n said holding her still as they laid there her whispering soft words to Bayley as she did her best to console her.

[cumulo-stratus]

BAU autism headcannons

(GIF NOT MINE)

(male reader)

CW: possible swearing, mentions of meltdowns and overstimulation, lemme know if theres anything else!

A/N: sry i havent rly posted in a while, i started a school recently and its been a rly big change for me so ive just been emotionally/mentally exhausted like all the time, but i dont wanna abandon u guys so i decided i would get something up, even if its not super good, thanks for y’all’s understanding <3

i think both JJ and Emily would become sort of mothers to reader

(not that they werent already mothers to the rest of the team but reader especially)

like JJ would totally have a motherly instinct for readers needs (like a sort of spider sense)

like if your ever nervous about something being too much or being overwhelming, jj would kinds know this and either make arrangements for accommodations or make sure you know you dont have to go if you want to.

and like she definitely wold put herself in charge of keeping your safe foods stashed on the jet and at the office

emily is more of a mother in a protective way than jj is

like this girl will not hesitate at all to go off on someone for maybe being disrespected to about stimming your chair while thinking

or like if you dont want to shake a police officers hand when your being introduced, and you get dirty/weird looks for it, or anyone comments on it? BOOM this girl will stare at them with so much animosity they’ll be scared of her shes so hot oml

anyways i thinks he team would be super accepting of you, especially if you joined after reid like they would already have some experience with autism

and like if you weren’t ent comfortable telling anyone other than hotch(i feel like it would be like a in ur file thing idk how the government works tho) spencer would defo be able to tell and confront u privately abt it (our respectful king <3)

and if you are comfortable telling the team, everyone would be respectful

i think like rossi/gideon would be a little clueless but like trying their hardest

like rossi would have no idea what stimming is but understands that like you move in certain ways or make certain noises when ur excited

and like with all his money he wouldnt hesitate to spoil u with any fidget toy u need/want or like a rly nice weighted blanket (its insane how expensive those things are)

and like gideon despite his profound understanding of others (hope yall got that ;)) he wouldn’ t get why sometimes you dont feel like/cant talk but totally respects it

omg garcia is our autism ally QUEEN im telling you

always has a big basket of fidgets/stim toys sitting on her desk and when your having a rough day shell leave you a little goodie in a brightly colored and decorated bag

i firmly believe that she is the queen at finding brands with clothes that not only fits your style perfectly but is also sensory friendly

i think she would definitely say that if she never ended up working in the FBI she wouldve started a clothing shop for sensory friendly clothing/accessories

spencer would totallllyyyy be your best friend when it comes to being under-stimulated

he will totally info dump on you and vice-versa

spencer (like penlope) would totally recommend clothing brands that are sensory friendly, but sock brands in particular

and everyone makes fun of you for nerding out over everything

also spencer would definitely get in the habit of grabbing your hands in his when you start to pick a t your nails and cuticles

like he didnt even realize what he was doing the first time but now he does it without thinking about it and for the team its normal

“hey,” and he would gently grab your hands to stop you from picking at them

“sorry..”

”youve nothing to be sorry for” (with that little reid smile oml rf[osifjgturhv)

and i also firmly believe that morgan is the best people to go to if your having a meltdown

he would stop you from harmfully stimming

“hey sugar, unclench those pretty little hands for me. there we go… good job kid.” he would have the softest smile and voice

and when he takes your hands to stop you from hitting yourself his grip is rly firm but gentle

but hotch is the best to go to for when your overstimulated

like he would make sure you know his office is always a quiet place you can go to with out questions

and he would secretly have a stash of like stimm toys in his office that he stole from garcia

his couch is always open to you, especially like late at night if you are really tired his fatherly instincts will kick in and force you to come to his office for a break

he would would hand you and blanket and a stim toy

”sit. sleep”

thats all he would say in his cute little stern but actually caring voice <3

[thegamingcatmom]

Mutualll 😋🙌🏾 how are you doinggg? I hope you’re doing great, or good at least.

Ok, so basically am asking this because it’s consumed my mind since I saw this specific thing in your repost about Miranda’s baby fever. It’s basically about Eva wanting a sibling.

Do you think that Miranda is the type of lover who doesn’t let you do really anything when you’re pregnant? LIKE, I can’t explain how many times my brain has brought it up.

Like honestly would Miranda be even accepting of you doing the usual things you did before pregnancy that required labor? Especially since she obviously was pregnant herself at one point so she knows how it feels.

Just imagining Miranda dotting all over you and being by your side almost 24/7 (along with her little twin, Eva) to make sure you and her unborn baby are okay.

(Also, am not leaving your head 🙅🏾‍♀️ stealing and sharing your thoughts around the clock)

Hiii there! 🤗

I´m doing good, thanks for asking! Hbu??

I mean, listen-

I think Miranda is the type of lover who doesn´t let you do much in general, lol. Miri spends most of her time working, so I doubt she´d want any "distractions" when she does allow herself a break. She expects her love to be...there, yknow what I´m saying? If it was up to Miri (which...it kinda is), you would probs be sitting somewhere all day long, doing nothing but looking pretty for her. 🫠

(Who can blame her when you do it so well...)

So yes, I defo believe Miranda is the type of lover who won´t let you lift a finger when pregnant with her child. Like...excuse?

"Sit your ass back down, right this instant."

...

Jk.

That´s not what she´d say.

Because she wouldn´t say anything.

She´d just...stare.

And stare some more.

...

And some more.

...

...

...

MC: *sits*

Miranda: *slowly tilts her head in approval*

LISTEN-

When you´ve got a presence like Miranda, no words are needed. 🫠

Oh, and you can bet there´d be SO much doting. I´m talking soft kisses on that swollen belly, and massaging those tender muscles that are all sore from carrying her child, and slowly swaying together with your foreheads touching and her hands gently grasping your hips, and her crows might just pop out to join the party, cawing softly at you as they sit on your shoulders with their heads tucked under your chin, gently clattering their beaks in absolute rapture at their mate and the life growing inside-

...

Y´know what´s even sexier though?

Miri doing a complete 180 the moment she´s faced with literally anyone else.

.

.

.

Thanks a lot for your ask! 💋

(Have fun in my head. It´s a mess, lemme tell ya. ;P)

[euphoricfilter]

okay where should i start 😟 im no longer a film student! shocker i know. i changed course because film sucks ass and the people suck ass and i finally have a dream in life and know what i wanna do when i grow up so i moved to illustration 🤗 and am i good at drawing…? i don’t know kinda debatable buttttttt they let me in the course so it can’t be too bad…. uhhhh what else… i joined a monday art therapy thing and its so fun i can show you guys some of my art work if you wanna see it!!!

i got a boyfriend, broke up with said boyfriend because i was like mmm cis straight men are so spooky and scary and this isn’t my vibe let me be a lesbian and reach my final form. then i got back with him because he’s actually kinda my best friend but then i broke it off again because im really depressed and in a bad place and it’s not fair on him to keep waiting for me when im doing really bad and can’t give him what he wants or what i wanna give him out of a relationship.

mmmmmm what else, jujutsu kaisen is my whole personality. WAIT lemme write choso smut…..!!!!!!! and sukuna true form smut…. and nanami smut mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

that might be it. basically i found more men to thirst over and i would literally eat choso out. also i dressed up as him for Halloween. also might be willing to share that if anyone is interested andddddd wait id also eat out jack skellington

[running-with-the-feels]

Kung Lao Headcanons

thanks to @charlotte-family-apologist for helping to inspire these

uses his teleportation to play pranks on people and has gotten Liu Kang to scream as a result of startling him. Tried to scare Kitana with it once and got stabbed before she realized it was him.

Made his had himself after getting the idea from a dream. Everyone in the Wu Shi thought he was insane for it and kept trying to stop him but he wouldn't listen. They even piled on extra training so that he wouldn't have enough free time but he just stopped sleeping so he could get it done. Liu Kang was the only person who supported him in doing this.

As a result, Kung Lao is actually a very skilled blacksmith and weapon maker, and made Liu Kang his nunchucks as a birthday gift.

Despite having a large extended family, Kung Lao was raised in the monastery with little contact with the outside world, knowing few of his relatives and seeing them only a few times in his life

This is because Raiden believed that he had been given a sign by the elder gods when Kung Lao was born that the young boy would be a skilled warrior and instrumental in winning the next tournament so he asked his parents to turn him over to the Wu Shi shortly after he stopped nursing.

His mother and father were very reluctant to agree, but had faith in Raiden's judgement so they let him go. They were not allowed to visit often for fear that it would distract the boy but every time they did they would spoil him and make sure he knew how much he was loved and how proud of him they were.

They later died in the Netherrealm war, and Kung Jin is one of Lao's few living relatives left.

Kung Lao threw himself into his training, despite other characters viewing him as lazy or a slacker, he put everything he had into it. Whenever he would skip lessons it was bc they were things he had already taught himself on his own time and sitting through the lecture was exceedingly boring, so he'd sneak away to practice his own techniques in private, usually the ones the monks refused to teach him.

Sometimes he would also sneak off to practice his blacksmithing, a talent none of the other monks wanted to encourage as they believed it to be a distraction. Often Liu Kang would join him, using his pyromancer to help light the forge (it also became their go to make out spot as no one bothered them there)

Despite this, nothing he did ever satisfied Raiden as the god held him to the standard of the great Kung Lao, expecting him to be better. Due to the stakes of the next tournament being the last one, Raiden had Kung Lao trained more harshly than anyone else and held him to higher standards, fixating on the smallest mistakes in an effort to make Kung Lao the perfect warrior.

As a result, no matter how rapidly Kung Lao excelled, nothing he did was ever good enough for Raiden

by contrast, Raiden was always impressed by Liu Kang as the boy overcame all the odds against him to become Kung Lao's equal in skill, so Raiden switched his attention to the pyromancer before long, leaving Kung Lao behind.

Kung Lao can't bring himself to resent Liu Kang for it, as he too thinks that Liu Kang is perfection incarnate, but it does still sting.

Raiden's indifference and clear preference for Liu Kang led to Kung Lao thinking he had shamed his family legacy, the thing he had been raised to uphold and sacrificed his childhood for, which is why he sneaks into the tournament anyways bc he's desperate to make the shame go away.

That's all I've got rn, but lemme know if anyone would be interested in more

[missmaywemeetagain]

Sweet Symphony 🎻❤️‍🔥🎹, a '68 Special Era One-Shot

A/N: This one has been sitting in my drafts unfinished for quite a while. Sweet Symphony started as a special request for '68 Special era Elvis from my Get to Know Me Gala way back in March! I also included the prompt, "Do it again, please." Nothing like a good two-fer!

A professional violinist Reader gets a little more than she bargains for after rehearsal for Elvis Presley's '68 Special...

Mature 18+ || Word count: 9.2k

TW: Sexxx in various forms, fluff, cussing, dubious use of a piano

For my most patient baby, @savedrebelcreation 💗

(If you want to get stories like this early, come join my Patreon!)

Sweet Symphony

A ’68 Special Era Request

You’re early. Too early, in fact, but your mother always said, “If you’re on time, you’re late,” so it goes to reason that for such an important job, you find yourself clicking your heels into the rehearsal room a full hour before it’s set to start.

The only reason they allowed you in this early is that your brother-in-law, Billy, is the one in charge of this portion of the production rehearsal, arranging the music for Elvis Presley’s television special due out in December. He had been tasked, rather last minute, to take over the musical arrangements. When your sister called on Billy’s behalf, saying he desperately needed a professional violinist to fill in for the one who’d been suddenly struck with a bout of appendicitis, you were a little confused at first. Why in the world would Elvis Presley need a violinist? had been the first thought in your head, but a job is a job, and you figure a television special of this magnitude wouldn’t hurt your classical resume.

Sure, why not? you’d thought, then packed up your violin and got a ticket for the next plane out to LA. If nothing else, I’ll get some sun.

Since your plane arrived late, you made the executive decision to go straight to the studio rather than chance the traffic by checking into your hotel first. Which is how you find yourself in the near-dark rehearsal space before anyone else has even thought to arrive, violin and suitcase in tow. At least you’ll get a chance to look over the score Billy just handed you before anyone else arrives, you think, finding a chair and settling in to unpack and prepare your instrument.

So focused are you that you don’t really register the door opening and then latching closed. You figure it is just Billy, who had been frantically going over sheet music up in the booth. When the piano begins to play, softly, you nearly jump out of your skin with surprise, having been so lost in sight reading and humming your part that you were oblivious to the presence of another in the room.

“Oh my god!” you gasp in surprise, managing to knock the loose pages of the score off the music stand as your hand flies up to your chest. “Damnit,” you mutter under your breath, scurrying to pick up the pages and put them back in order.

“I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean to startle ya,” you hear a gentle voice drawl out from the darkness.

“Oh, no, I just wasn’t expecting anyone in here so early and I was so caught up in…” you taper off, furrowing your brow and trying to get your sheet music situated.

“Here, lemme help you with that,” the voice says, kneeling to pick up loose pages.

“Oh, thank…” your voice hitches when you look down at the man holding up more music that had fluttered away across the floor.

It’s the sparkling sapphire blue eyes that catch you first, framed in criminally long, dark lashes, blinking up at you from where he’s kneeling on the floor next to your chair. They are utterly mesmerizing in the way they search your face apologetically. Your voice dies in your suddenly dry throat, and so mesmerized are you with those eyes that it takes you much too long to take in the rest of him.

That’s when you realize that the man with the pretty eyes on his knees near your feet is the one and only Elvis Presley.

“…you. Thank you,” you manage to finish, gingerly taking the pages from his grasp.

Elvis smiles up at you so bashfully, so charmingly, that it takes your breath away.

It doesn’t hit you until this very moment that you are playing for the Elvis Presley. Between everything happening so quickly and you assuming you wouldn’t get to meet the man himself, you just hadn’t considered the magnitude of the job.

You’d just hit your teenage years when Elvis came into his stardom, the timing perfect for swooning over the Southern boy with the rebellious good looks and the completely unique sound. But your parents had been strict and conservative, opting for your upbringing to be filled with learning and playing classical music, so the only chance you’d had to listen to Elvis was when you went to your girlfriend’s house. There you could swoon over him unimpeded, but it was more vicarious than anything else. And by the time you were old enough to properly swoon to your heart’s content, you were so busy with your music degree that it hadn’t really crossed your mind to ogle over Elvis.

To be quite honest, you had become a bit of a music snob at that point, so Elvis wasn’t really on your radar, though you had been impressed by his reworked English version of O Solo Mio. His It’s Now or Never had been a massive hit, and he had amazed you with his vocal talent, which you were convinced was wasted on silly pop songs. Needless to say, Elvis and his music had been off your radar for a long, long time.

You certainly hadn’t realized the man had only gotten more attractive as time went on. Magazine pictures and even his movies (which you hadn’t cared to watch since the beginning of the decade) don’t do him justice, which is saying something since you’d never once seen the man look anything less than handsome. But those damn eyes pop against his tanned skin and raven hair, and that curved-lip smile has butterflies flying in your stomach like a schoolgirl.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asks quietly, still kneeling at your feet.

“My name? Oh, um, my name is y/n,” you stammer out. You could kick yourself for how gobsmacked you sound, a grown professional woman nearly forgetting her own name in the presence of an attractive man. But the thing is he isn’t just attractive—he’s ethereal.

“Well, hello there, y/n. I’m Elvis,” he says, as if he were just some regular Joe and not one of the most famous men alive. “What do you play?” He motions to your music.

“Uh, violin. Well, and piano, but violin professionally,” you reply, unable to take your eyes off him.

His eyes light up at this. “I play piano, too,” he says, with such a little boy quality that you can’t help but smile.

“Oh?” This surprises you quite a bit since he is so synonymous with the birth of rock and roll and you’d only ever seen him with an acoustic guitar.

“Yeah, a lotta people don’t know that, but between you and me, I like playin’ piano more,” he says, with a wink. Elvis stands up from his crouch with little effort, so lithely that you equate it to a dancer. Your eyes follow up, up, up his lean frame, and you try not to notice just how well his tailored outfit fits him.

He walks back towards the piano he came from, and you blush when you catch yourself staring at his backside, like some sort of lecherous creep. Quickly turning your attention back to the pages of music in your lap, you force yourself to try and make sense of page numbers, shuffling them back into order.

“Do you know this one?” Elvis suddenly asks, shocking you by playing the opening notes of a well-known Beethoven piece.

“Yeah, I mean, yes. I do,” you respond, still stumbling over your words. “That’s Moonlight Sonata.”

“What happens after this part?” he asks, playing the beginning again. The question seems quite honest, still having that curious, young quality about it. Before you think better of it, you’re walking over to the piano.

“May I?” you say, standing near the bench. Music is your language. You’ve always been better with an instrument at your fingertips than with your words. It makes you feel bolder, so when Elvis only scoots over instead of yielding the bench, it doesn’t stop you from perching next to him.

It only takes a second for the movement to come back to you and you place your hands on the keys, letting them speak for you. You’ve done your share of teaching, so it doesn’t take but a moment to fall into that role. You just try not to think too hard on that fact that it’s Elvis Presley that you’re teaching.

He’s nodding along, eyes focused solely on your hands. So close to him, you can feel the way the music affects his body. It’s something you can relate to.

You stop yourself from speeding too far ahead in the music and pull your hands away from the keys. “Is that…do you want me to go again, or do you want to try it?” you ask.

“Do it again. Please?” he asks watching your hands with incredible focus.

You do, trying to keep it simple and without too much flourish.

“Okay, so it’s like this then?” he says after you finish, and as his long, slender fingers glide across the keys, you realize they are musician’s fingers. They may be dripping with jewels that are likely more expensive than your apartment, but they are quite perfect for the kind of instruments he plays. It strikes you he was made to do this.

You recognize then that Elvis is truly a musician and not just a performer. The way he concentrates, learning and adapting quickly as you show him more of the song, only by ear and sight, amazes you.

It's through the music that you begin to calm. Talking one musician to another is much more manageable than considering the magnitude of the person you’re speaking with. Frankly, you are completely amazed by how incredibly gentle and disarming the man is.

When the door opens again, both of you are consumed enough in the music that it doesn’t faze you much.

“Oh, hey Elvis! Just the man I needed to see. I hope y/n isn’t bothering you,” Billy says, in a teasing tone only a family member could produce.

“Hello to you, too, Billy,” you say, a bit annoyed at the interruption and at feeling put in your place as if you were still a child.

“Oh, no, not at all. She’s a great teacher,” Elvis grins, bumping your shoulder. “You two…know each other?” he then asks, his smile faltering in the slightest as he looks from you to Billy. The question is innocent enough, but the way he says it gives you pause and your heart flips.

“Since she was practically in diapers. She’s my sister-in-law,” Billy says.

“Twelve isn’t in diapers, Billy,” you scoff at him, then turn to Elvis. “He’s married to my older sister yet has never hesitated to treat me like a baby. Lucky me.”

“Aw, you know I only put up with you because you’re too talented for your own good,” Billy ribs, making to muss your hair.

You duck swiftly out of the way, bumping into Elvis in the process. “Oh, sorry!” you breath out.

Elvis just chuckles at the two of you, looking pleased as punch, though you’re not exactly sure why.

“I think what you meant to say is, ‘Thank you for dropping everything to fly across the country last minute to help me, dearest sister-in-law,’” you throw at Billy, batting your lashes.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure I’ll never hear the end of it. Now, skedaddle. I need to talk to Elvis,” Billy shoos you.

You suppress the urge to stomp your foot and pout, but you realize you really should act more professional than you are. Settling for a huff at Billy, you turn to Elvis. “It was nice to meet you,” you say, all the spunkiness you had towards Billy deflating into shyness the moment you look into those dark blue eyes again.

“Oh, I have no doubt we’ll be talkin’ again soon, honey, and thank you for the lesson,” Elvis drawls softly.

His words send a cascade of shivers through your limbs. You feel heady as you stand from the bench, shooting a familial glare Billy’s way, noticing the frown on his face as you do so. God, even with you being 27, Billy had the ability to make you feel like a scolded younger sister.

You force yourself not to look back as you head to your chair. Be a professional. Just because Elvis is handsome doesn’t mean he’s not the man you’re ultimately working for. Busying yourself with rearranging your music, you hear Billy usher Elvis out and up into the booth.

Well, that’s that, you think, rosining your bow, and you get to practicing.

*

You’ve been at your share of long rehearsals, but you will admit this one is both long and intense. The music Billy has arranged—this “Guitar Man” medley of some of Elvis’ songs—isn’t difficult music to play, per say, but you can now sense an underlying importance around this entire operation. Part of it is the barely held back frantic look in Billy’s eyes, and knowing him as you do, for him to be this frazzled means there’s a lot on the line. However, it’s when Elvis comes back, much later, to run through the medley with the orchestra, that you realize you can sense it in him, too. It’s well-hidden, to be sure, when the man introduces himself and shakes hands with the members of the orchestra, and you probably wouldn’t even have noticed if it weren’t for the relaxed way he’d been with you earlier in the day, but it’s an undercurrent all the same. Then, they send him into the booth to do his thing.

And, boy, does he. You’ve worked your share of Broadway musicals and operas, but you’ve never seen a man completely give himself over to the work in just a rehearsal quite the way Elvis does with this medley. It’s like he’s singing for his life. By the time it’s all through, Elvis exits the booth, dripping with sweat, exhausted but exuberant. His eyes sparkle and his body hums, some part of him tapping or jiggling or wiggling every moment, as though the music had become electricity in his veins.

You try not to stare as you slowly put away your bow, your violin, collecting your music from the black stand. You try not to, but you keep stealing glances because not only does he look enticing, but it’s also more that you connect with the feelings he seems to be having. The way the music can just take over and become something else inside you, as if you are the conduit to something much bigger than yourself. This you understand. And you’d never imagined a sensation like Elvis Presley would feel the music that way, too. Perhaps this is the secret to his massive success.

Almost all the other musicians have packed and left by now. You tell yourself you’re stalling so you can say goodnight to Billy before hailing a cab and finally checking into your hotel by midnight. You are exhausted, after a day of traveling and frenetic rehearsal, yet you are buzzing with the excitement only music seems to bring you. And you can’t help that the part of you that feels that way is being drawn towards Elvis like a magnet.

When Elvis catches your less-than-sly stare, a million-dollar smile spreads over his face and your heart flip-flops in your chest so hard it takes your breath away. Caught, you quickly and conspicuously look up and away, as though that will save the burning embarrassment on your cheeks. Suddenly, all you can think of is how fast you can get out of here, and you finish packing up like a fire has been lit under you. You scurry towards the door, hoping to escape before making a fool of yourself further.

“Hey, Miss Moonlight,” Elvis says, fingers light on your arm, stopping you before you reach the door, “whaddya say you join us back at my place for a little get together?”

The nickname would usually make you roll your eyes, but coming from him so sweetly, you balk under the attention. It distracts you so much that it takes a full second to realize that he’s just invited you to his place.

“I…uh, it’s been a long day. I-I haven’t even checked into my hotel yet,” you stammer, the excuse so unconvincing you might laugh if you weren’t so befuddled and nervous that Elvis is asking you…well, you’re not exactly sure what he’s asking you.

He quirks a perfect raven brow at you. When he steps in closer, you can feel the heat radiating off him.

“Well, I can have Joe swing you by your hotel before headin’ over, if you’d like, though there’s plenty of space at the house. We can set up a room for ya…s’probably more comfortable than a hotel,” Elvis drawls quietly in your ear.

You’ve never heard a man make a pass so naturally in your life, so much so that you almost hesitate to believe it is one. His low voice and the open suggestiveness spear straight into your core, threatening to melt you into a puddle on the spot.

In any other circumstance, you would laugh in a man’s face for suggesting such a thing. Generally shy, reserved, and cerebral, you’re certainly not the kind of woman who just spends the night at a strange man’s place. But this isn’t any other circumstance. This is Elvis Presley asking you to stay the night with him.

And maybe he does just mean it casually—a “hey, come party with us and you can sleep on the couch”—but at the moment, your body doesn’t know the difference. Your inner pragmatist begins listing off all the ways this is a terrible idea, but the only thing that cuts through the noise is the regret you know you’ll feel if you don’t accept this invitation.

“Um…well, okay. I mean, I wouldn’t want to impose, of course,” you manage to breathe back.

His lip curves up into an almost bashful smile. “Oh, Moonlight, you couldn’t be an imposition if you tried. Plus, you hafta show me how to play the rest of that piece,” he says, running a calloused fingertip down your pointer finger.

You can’t help the shudder that runs through you or the way your heart catches in your throat. “Well, how could I possibly refuse?” you finally get out.

“Fantastic! Hey, Joe, this is my new friend, y/n,” he says enthusiastically, calling over the shorter man. “She’s gonna be joining us tonight.”

Joe seems kind enough, albeit barely looks or speaks to you after the main introductions. Before you know it, you, your violin, and your suitcase are packed into the back of what you assume is a ridiculously expensive vehicle. Elvis slides in behind you, and you, now sandwiched between him and the car door, think you ought to feel apprehensive about the situation, but all your attention is fixed on how Elvis’ side is pressed up against yours. The heat radiates off him, bleeding into you, his leg bouncing so quickly that you think he might need to get out and run laps. He makes conversation, asking about how you came to be a musician and you uncharacteristically and nervously start rambling about yourself. You’ve got to give him credit for the way he nods and hums, truly seeming to listen to you even though your mouth is running almost uncontrollably.

By the time you arrive at the house, you feel as if you’ve told Elvis your life story and you abruptly shutter your mouth closed. God, I am such an idiot. Way to play it cool, y/n, you berate yourself.

Elvis kindly helps you out of the car, walking you toward the house as Joe follows with your violin and suitcase in tow. The way your heart pounds against your ribcage threatens to do you in—it’s all suddenly become very real that Elvis Presley is leading you into his house where you are going to surreptitiously spend the night. His hand is guiding you so gently at the small of your back, but the heat of it blazes through you.

Oh, get a grip! The man has probably touched thousands of women, you’re no different. You’re not special.

Realizing you’re holding your breath, you force yourself to take in air as inconspicuously as possible.

“You don’t gotta be nervous, baby,” he says, a cheeky little smile gracing those luscious lips of his.

“Sorry, I…this just isn’t where I thought I’d be at the end of this very long day,” you chuckle.

“Well, let’s make you at home then.” His smile turns reassuring and warm.

He spends the next hour getting you comfortable and fed, having the most amazing ability to relax your normally nervous nature without hardly trying. You can’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach at the way he seems to be continuously touching you—the press of his leg, an arm around your shoulders, the graze of a finger against yours—in a familiar way, even though you’ve known him less than a day. If it were anyone else, you would have leapt off the couch and run for the hills.

What surprises you the most is that you aren’t uncomfortable at all. Excited and nervous, yes. But you don’t feel preyed upon or anything of the sort. Frankly, you are trying not to get ahead of yourself about what the rest of the night might bring.

An impromptu jam session with his old bandmates has you feeling even more surreal. If someone had told you yesterday that you would get a private concert with Elvis Presley and his former band, you would have laughed at them. You find yourself unable to take your eyes off him and how he seems to get completely lost in the music, and you right along with him. His gritty baritone combined with the sensual way he tackles each song has warmth pooling in your belly. Despite the cranked-up air conditioning, you find yourself sweating and parched, especially in the moments he smiles in your direction.

You aren’t sure how much time passes, only that you feel the heady exhaustion of being up too long coupled with an uncharacteristic hungry adrenaline running through your veins. When the jam session ends, you are both disappointed and exhilarated for what might come next.

Don’t get your hopes up, you remind yourself. This night has been amazing no matter what happens next.

“Did you enjoy that, Moonlight?” he leans over and whispers in your ear. It tickles you and sends a shiver down your spine.

You nod. “Oh, yes.” It comes out more breathless than you’d like.

You feel him smile against your cheek. “Are you up for teaching me more of that sonata, honey?” he asks. It’s an innocent enough request but you can’t tell exactly what his motivations are, though for the first time in your life, you’re not sure it matters.

“Of course,” you say quietly, starting for the piano in the corner of the living space.

His warm hand catches yours, and you look back, surprised, as he shakes his head and pulls you in the opposite direction.

Your heart threatens to beat out of your ribcage as he leads you down the hall and into what you assume is his private suite. It’s not until he closes the door and you realize that you are utterly alone with him that you feel a glimmer of trepidation.

It must read on your face because he jumps in to reassure you. “Oh, honey, I just want to get to know you better, away from the rest of them. I’d never hurt you or make you do anything you didn’t want to do. Honestly, I don’t want the other guys ribbing me…they don’t go for the classical stuff,” he says quietly, looking away, and you think there might be a little pink rising on his cheeks.

His sincerity is palpable, and you certainly never expected him to be bashful about playing classical music. There’s a softness to him now, almost a shyness, that wasn’t present moments ago around all his entourage. It is like a yearning for one-on-one connection, and this part of him melts all your reservations and tugs at your heartstrings.

“Well, I do…go for the classical stuff, I mean,” you say quietly. You smile and squeeze his hand reassuringly as his deep blue eyes find yours again.

He looks giddy as he leads you to the second piano in the house, a baby grand in the far corner of the large suite. You sit down, opening the lid, and he slides in beside you. The heat of him rolls around you, the smell of his cologne and a day’s worth of sweat combining into an alluring combination that perks up your senses.

“Show me what you remember,” you say, and he starts to play, long, nimble fingers gliding gracefully over the keys. It amazes you that he committed everything you showed him earlier to memory so fast and so accurately. Something about it tightens a coil low in your belly. Unsure whether it’s your attraction to him physically or musically that has you so aroused, you swallow hard as he finishes abruptly.

You shake it off as best you can as you show him more of the movement, hoping the music might quell the buzzing in your veins. You go through it a few times, getting a little lost in the notes, as you tend to do. It only serves to stoke the fire in you when he picks up what you’ve shown him so quickly.

He finishes a phrase, and you move to show him the next, but his hand suddenly covers yours. Surprised, you look over at him to find his oceanic eyes searching your face so intimately that warmth blooms across your chest and your breath catches in the silence.

Slowly, Elvis leans over, cups your cheek gently, and kisses you. It’s almost chaste the way his incredibly soft lips press into yours and your surprise is so great that by the time you register what is happening, he is already pulling away.

His eyes open slowly, those lashes fluttering along with the fluttering in your heart and belly. Shock has you outwardly frozen but it’s as if he lit every one of your nerve endings on fire with the touch of his lips.

He must register your surprise as hesitance because his gaze changes to something akin to apologetic.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare ya. I shouldn’t’ve—”

Before he can get the rest of that sentence out, your body miraculously obeys you and you unfreeze. Boldly cupping his jaw with both hands, you pull him back to you and plant your lips on his.

It surprises both of you, and it’s a second before either of you relaxes into the kiss. This permission is all it takes, however, and then his mouth is languidly searching yours and his arms are wrapping around you to pull you close. Soft, short kisses alternate with longer more passionate ones, and you feel utterly spellbound by him, every inch of your body aware and alert to his.

Never in your life have you been kissed so well or so thoroughly. It’s as if the music in his soul must find a physical outlet, and the way he explores and opens you up to him is like him playing a new instrument. When his tongue rolls softly against your lower lip, you can’t suppress the low moan that comes out of you, causing you to open your mouth. He accepts the invitation readily, expertly, and the wet plushness of his tongue slowly begins exploring.

The warmth that sparkles and blooms across your chest travels lower still, sparking fires as it goes, until you feel your pulse throbbing between your legs. It’s nearly unbearable the way he stokes you without hardly trying. You’ve never felt so aroused so quickly or so completely.

Your eagerness is impossible to contain, your fingers buried in that luxuriously soft hair at the base of his neck, your body rolling towards his of its own accord, as if magnetized. You follow his rhythm, meeting his music with your own.

When he pulls back to trail kisses down your jaw, you are left breathless and clutching the lapels of his half-unbuttoned shirt. The nuzzle of his nose on your cheek as he finds and licks the tender spot behind your ear leaves you gasping. Pleased, he does it again and your entire body shudders.

Every inch of you yearns to be consumed by him. It’s never felt like this, not with any man you’ve been with. Those were fumbling amateurs playing one handed melodies in comparison to the symphony Elvis is invoking. While he is leading and in control, you sense as much eagerness from him as there is in you. It’s reassuring and flattering all at once.

There is an embarrassing amount of slick between your legs already, soaking the cotton of your panties and leaving you clenching your thighs together in search of friction. He must notice this as he kisses down your throat and across your décolletage because then he’s looking up at you for permission with those pink, swollen lips and dreamy bedroom eyes.

It’s unspoken, but you nod and he continues his sweet journey, one hand deftly unzipping the back of your dress while his lips follow gravity as it slips down your arms and reveals your chest. Pushing the fabric off and to your waist, his hand is then hot against your bare stomach. He hums in approval when his mouth finds the swell of your breasts that spill from your simple, beige bra.

A low whine escapes you. His apt response is to thumb your nipple to attention through the thin satin before lapping at the bud with his tongue. The result is a jolt of electricity shooting straight into your core, sending you clutching his neck and writhing against him. Expertly, he undoes the clasp in the back and abandons your bra to the floor in what must be a well-practiced motion based on the speed of it.

Goosebumps rise across your now fully exposed flesh, both from the cool air in the room and the way his fingers brush so lightly over your breasts. He seems pleased with the way your nipples stand at attention under his heated gaze. You don’t have the wherewithal to feel your usual self-consciousness; instead, the sight of his pupils blown black with arousal has you shivering with nothing but anticipation.

The combination of the way his tongue darts between his lips as he lightly pinches the hardened buds has you begging for more. “Please,” you moan and that’s all it takes before he’s lathing his tongue over and around the sensitive nubs, palming the fullness of your breasts. You can hardly stand it, how everything he does makes your body sing and want to scream his praises.

A quizzical look crosses your features though when he stops his ministrations and slides to his knees on the carpet on his side of the bench. For a second you are worried something you’ve done something to hurt or displease him, but when he beckons you towards him at the end of the bench with such arousal in his eyes it nearly knocks you over, you obey without a thought.

Elvis scoots you forward and kisses your belly, sending a new wave of tingles over you. He removes one of your low-heeled pumps and then the other, ghosting kisses along your ankles before running his large hands up the smoothness of your pantyhose, pushing your dress up with them. As if under a spell, you can’t help the way your legs fall open for him when his thumbs drag up the insides of your thighs. The little coy smirk that graces that beautiful face when he feels the damp that has soaked through to the gusset of your hose has your cheeks flushing and your lips parting.

You can’t bring yourself to be too embarrassed at how wet you are because the pleased look on his face at the discovery makes you feel like you’ve won the lottery. He pulls on the waistband, forcing you to lift your hips, before gently rolling the hose down your legs until they are off and discarded on the floor.

What you don’t expect is how he begins peppering soft kisses up your now bare calves, at the inside of your knees, and then up your inner thighs.

A swell of panic hits the farther up he goes, and you jerk up, unsure of what exactly he’s meaning to do. The men you’d been with in the past had been rather direct about the whole thing—once the clothes were off, they buried their pecker inside you and thrust above you, all with varying levels of success in getting you off as they did so.

But not a single one had kissed up your thighs and spread them open with a hungry and expectant look like the one Elvis had now.

Looking down at him, confused, you ask, “What are you doing?” in a voice that is a little too apprehensive for your liking, but you need to know.

He cocks his head at you a moment, as if trying to determine your level of seriousness. Then his eyes shine with understanding and in that low, Southern drawl of his says the downright naughtiest thing you’ve ever had a man say to you: “You ain’t never had a man take good care of your kitty before, have ya? Give her all the love and attention she deserves?” He runs a fingertip lightly over the wet cotton at your center and you shiver.

He can’t possibly mean what you think he means.

You must be gaping because he rises on his knees and catches your lips with his own before breathing, “Close that pretty mouth baby or you’re liable to catch flies up in there.”

You are speechless, unable to form words, but the question is written all over your face.

He leans back on his knees with a contemplative smile. “That sweet little kitty of yours ain’t never been eaten, has she, baby?”

Oh my god.

It’s all you can do to bite back a moan and shake your head at him.

He looks positively gleeful about this development, his shining eyes taking on a whole new level of arousal. Then he seems to notice your trepidation and reigns himself in.

“That okay with you, baby?” he asks.

You had never even considered it an option before, or that a man might like to do such a thing. Maybe he’s teasing you? Suddenly you feel very conscious of the mechanics of the act and breathlessly mumble, “You don’t…you’re sure?”

“Oh, I am.” The smile of anticipation on his face seems to echo the sentiment.

The enticing thought of that beautiful mouth of his being down there on you outweighs your uncertainty and prudishness. You nod your head. “O-Okay.”

You’ve never seen a man look so thrilled at the thought of being between your legs as Elvis Presley is. “Don’tcha worry, I’m gonna take real good care of ya,” he says comfortingly. “You just lie back and relax and let me make you feel good, honey.” Then he places a kiss just under the waistband of your panties and you let out a little sigh.

The piano bench feels slightly warm on you bare back as you lay down. Elvis, grabbing under your thighs, pulls you to the edge, and your heart resumes its pounding. You truly can’t believe any of this is about to happen and steel yourself for him to rip off your underwear and go to town.

But he doesn’t.

No, he takes his time warming you up, as if he’s trying to get you used to the idea. He kisses down one hip then trails down the panty line. You tense the closer he gets to your core but then he only ghosts a breath over it before jumping to the other leg and kisses up the crease on that side. The ticklish sensation is almost too much to bear as he works his way up to the waistband again.

You are panting by the time his mouth is grazing from your belly button downwards, pressing into the soft curls beneath the fabric. He stops just short of that forbidden little spot where your aching clit resides, and you push up on your elbows to shoot him a look.

A grin spreads over his features, his eyes narrowed like a crocodile’s and full of desire and he watches you intently as he finally places a light kiss over that sensitive little button.

The sensation is nothing like anything you’ve felt before and the whole scene has your body flaming white hot. You don’t recognize the low mewl that erupts from your lips and the only thing keeping you from throwing your head back is the way his eyes are locked on yours, as if feeding off your reaction. Then he uses his perfect nose to nuzzle into it before placing a firmer kiss there.

“Elvissss,” you whine, unable to keep from throwing your head back this time.

“You like that, baby? I barely even started,” he speaks, his hot breath puffing over the slicked core of your panties. He kisses down, down until over your entrance, where he then tongues the fabric, pressing it up and into you.

“Honey, you’ve done soaked right through,” he murmurs.

You’re not sure if he’s speaking to you or directly to your pussy. You’re not sure you care for the way you moan, the way your body shudders and writhes, suddenly starving for anything he’s willing to give.

“Lemme see how pretty she is,” he says, and God, if his filthy yet somehow sweet words aren’t stroking you in such a way that you wonder if you could come from his lilting voice alone. He pulls your underwear to the side, finally baring yourself to him, and he whistles.

“Just lovely, and all weepy for me, too,” he says, voice thick with lust now.

The anticipation has your heart racing and your fingers clawing at the wooden bench with a whimper.

“Okay, baby, I hear ya,” he murmurs kindly, then hooks his fingers in the sides of your panties and finally slides them down and off your legs. Then his hands are pushing them apart and his tongue is lightly skimming up your folds.

You gasp at the soft and silky feeling, unready even despite his preparations. When he circles your clit and then kisses it, bare this time, you are so aroused you’re afraid you might weep. But the teasing is done, and he tests you expertly. His tongue flattens and takes in the full breadth of you, licking a stripe up your pussy that sends your hips rolling.

He seems to gauge every reaction carefully, giving equal and alternating attention to every piece of you. Nipping, suckling, and kissing your swollen clit into submission and just when you think that heated coil in your belly might snap you in two, he moves down and kisses through your folds. When he laps at the arousal dripping from your tight little hole, tongues it, and then plunges it inside of you, you find yourself screaming out his name.

You can feel him smile and hum at your response, the vibrations adding entirely new sensations to the slew of new sensations you are feeling. He thumbs at your clit as he laps at your hole, and you think you might hyperventilate with how fast you’re breathing and how hot you feel.

So completely attuned to you, he pulls back and gives you a break, despite your whimpering protests. His full lips are swollen pink and slick down to his chin with you, and when his lip curls up into a knowing but almost bashful smile, you think this might be the eighth wonder of the world.

“You alright? I’m doin’ okay?” he asks, his left eyebrow quirking.

You giggle, almost drunkenly even though you’re entirely sober, because the question is so absurd but sweet of him. “Yes, yes, yes,” you say, words slurring.

“Okay, good,” he says, nodding. Then he rises on up on his knees and commands you forward with a come-hither motion so deft and quick, it has you drooling.

You are powerless to resist and push your dazed self to your elbows on the bench. He meets you halfway, kissing you deeply, lewdly letting you taste the tang of yourself on his lips. Distracted as you are by his wandering mouth, you aren’t ready for the way he slides two of those perfectly long musician’s fingers up through your silky folds and deep into your wet heat.

A shocked gasp quickly turns into a moan that he swallows with another kiss. He begins ever-so-slowly pumping those fingers into you and the rough pad of his thumb circles that sensitive bundle of nerves at the hood of your sex.

“Goddamn, you’re so perfect, so tight,” he breathes into your mouth.

You can’t stop the shiver that ripples through you. “I-It’s been a-awhile,” you pant. You can’t help but look down and watch the way he works you.

“Don’t you worry, baby. I gotchu,” he purrs, then curves his fingers just so and the pleasure that courses through you has you crying out.

Your brain is fuzzy, with only one thing on its mind. Luckily, Elvis seems to be reading it because he smiles that coy smile and returns those full lips of his to your clit.

For a moment you think you might die from the intensity of the sensations he’s procuring from you. Seems an awful lot like God gave him long fingers and a full mouth not only for music, you think. Though the way he’s playing you right now and the noises he’s coaxing out of you makes it seem like a whole different type of song he’s expert at.

The way he traces and flicks and suckles your clit, coupled with the obscene sounds coming from the way he’s fingering your pussy has you writhing on the bench and gripping his beautiful hair in your hands.

More, more, more, is the only thought left.

He hums against you with one last kiss and a wildly accurate thrust and curve of his fingers. The coil inside you explodes, then white-hot, full-body shudders violently overtake you as you silently scream and hold onto him for dear life as to not fly away into the stratosphere.

Your orgasm is utterly mind altering and earth shattering.

“Good job, lil’ girl,” Elvis coos, soothing you through the aftershocks with a lathing tongue.

You can’t think straight enough to respond, only whimpering from the empty feeling when he removes his fingers, then gasping again when he laps at the arousal pouring out of your core.

It’s all too much, and, overstimulated, you whine and clench and pull at him.

He sits up again, between your legs, looking mighty pleased with himself. “Come ‘ere, darlin’,” he says, pulling you up by your arms and sliding you onto his lap. Boneless and naked (save for the dress bunched in a ring around your waist), your legs fall open, easily straddling his hips. Your hands grip at his shirt and you bury your head into his neck, still dizzy with release.

He holds you steady. “Didja like that? Your kitty all happy and purrin’ now?” he whispers in your ear, sending a new set of shivers down your spine. All you can manage is a pleased hum and a nod. You kiss his neck, tasting salt on his tanned skin.

A soft moan escapes his lips at that. Suddenly, you become quite aware of the hardness in his slacks, pressing up near your swollen folds. The embers of your arousal have not died, and you kiss his neck again while slowly rolling your hips into his.

Groaning, he tightens his arms around you, holding you to him. You nip at the throbbing pulse point on his neck and are reminded just how talented and famous these hips of his are when he rolls them back into you in response. He’s rock hard, straining against his zipper, the tip of him bumping against your sensitive clit. You moan and find his rhythm, feeling the wetness between your thighs start to soak through the fabric of his slacks, creating a delicious friction.

Elvis pants heavily in your ear, murmuring curses and praises as he grinds into you. At this rate, you think he might come in his pants, which just won’t do. Not with the way your pussy is buzzing, and that coil is tightening again in your belly. No, you need him inside you. You need him to fill you.

You use what little returning strength you have and rise on your knees, away from his needy cock. The man actually pouts, his lower lip jutting out with a desperate little whine and it is so alluring you almost forget what you’re trying to do. You place a finger over his lips to quiet him, then set to the task of trying to undo his lavish belt and zipper.

Once he understands, he races to help, making much quicker work of the whole thing and finally his cock springs free. It’s quite long, and the deep pink tip peeking out of his silky foreskin is already shiny and weeping with precum. Of its own accord, your finger slides over his slit, circling the slick tip and spreading the wetness gathered there. He hisses. You bring your finger to your mouth, tasting the salty musk of him.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathes, his hand palming his length. He gives it a pointed tug, then another, his lips falling open as he watches you.

He’s gorgeous in every way and it’s almost intimidating the way he looks at you with such open and vulnerable lust. You can’t bring yourself hold back or tease any longer, needing desperately to give him all of you, to give him what he needs. Hovering over him, you help line him up, then slowly descend onto his cock.

You are plenty wet—he’s seen to that—but even still, the stretch of him burns. It’s been too long since a man has been inside you like this and he is much longer than you anticipated.

A quiet, “Oh, oh, oh,” is all you manage to puff out as you bob slightly up and down, taking a little bit more of him with each tiny pump. He presses gentle kisses everywhere he can reach and murmurs encouraging praises with each inch that you conquer.

By the time you settle on the hilt of him, snug in his lap, you’re both groaning. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders because you are so full of him you don’t know what to do. You’ve never been so gorged and the pressure is a little frightening.

“Snug as a bug in a rug,” he slurs happily, letting you adjust around him. “Little Elvis likes you lots and lots, baby. S’like you were made just for him.”

“Little Elvis? H-He’s not so little,” you say with wide eyes, then giggle a little, which causes you to gasp from the tightness below and how it makes you clench even harder around him.

He groans. “If ya keep doing that, he’s not gonna last very long, darlin’.”

You try to move, but in this position and after that orgasm, you feel weak and a little like he’s spearing you in two. You’re almost too full, and the angle is not quite right. You wiggle in his lap, your brow furrowed, as your arms grow tighter around his neck. A low whine escapes your throat.

He notices your distress. Petting your hair, he babytalks at you, which under other circumstances might be strange for a grown man, but it comes so naturally to him somehow it both comforts and arouses you, “Oh, shh, shh, baby, s’okay. He’s a widdle much for ya, ain’t he? Sometimes he gets too ‘cited and gets ahead of ‘imself. But he’s gonna take real good care of ya, I promise.”

And with that, he gingerly shifts sideways, leans forward, and lays you down on the plush carpet under the piano. The movement has him sliding partially out of you, giving you some relief from the bursting sensation, and you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. Your body relaxes.

He looks so gorgeous above you, with his raven hair falling in his eyes and a soft, bashful smile gracing his lips. You can’t help but smile back at him.

“That better?” he asks.

You nod.

Leaning down, he nuzzles your nose, then places soft kisses on your mouth. He coaxes you back to him, the heat building between you with each deepening kiss. So focused on the rolling of his tongue against yours, you don’t even realize he’s pressing deeper into you until he’s nestled almost completely, but much more comfortably between your legs.

You sigh contentedly into his mouth. The pressure still has you feeling full, but in a delicious, silky way this time as you finally relax around him. He rolls his hips smoothly, the strokes slow and deliberate, in time with the movement of his lips. Each stroke is better than the last as your increased arousal combined with his own slickens your inner walls.

“There she is,” he moans quietly into the crook of your neck.

That feeling is back, a chant of want, want, want running through your brain as the tension and fire in your belly begin to grow once more. When he bottoms out this time, your punctuated, “Ah!” is from pleasure and not discomfort. He’s managing to hit places inside you that you didn’t know existed.

You writhe under him, starting to meet his thrusts with your own, trying as you might to find that perfect spot he keeps slipping past. If only you had the right leverage…

It comes to you once you’ve hitched your legs up around his svelte waist. You lift your hips and plant your bare feet against the grainy wooden underside of the piano, meeting his next thrust with your leveraged one. It sends him deeper, driving into that little spot just perfectly. You keen.

“Oh, goddamn,” he moans along with you.

Each thrust seems deeper than the last with your legs pressing up like this. They shake from the exertion, but it’s worth every ounce of effort for the way you feel driven into the earth by his cock. Sweat drips off his face and onto yours as he showers your body with pleasure you didn’t know existed.

He thumbs your clit, timed perfectly with the piston of his hips, and you can barely breathe at the sensation. Gasping, your entire body shudders of its own accord as you hurtle towards another release.

“I…I…I…” is all you can seem to manage as your second climax starts to crest, and he grunts with effort above you, his eyes glassy with unbridled desire.

He mutters a string sweet filth that only fuels you forward, slurring and panting, “Oh, fuck, yes…such a good yittle kitty…good girl for me…look atchu taking ‘im so deep…never been s’deep…Jesus, I can see ‘im in your belly.”

You both look at the swell of your abdomen on the next thrust and this time he holds you flush against him so you can see the tip of Little Elvis bulge out the slightest bit. The moan you let out is obscene. Holding you at the waist, he doesn’t let your hips down, instead running the palm of his hand over the protrusion while he flicks your clit furiously. Then he presses down at the same time he thrusts as hard and as deep as possible.

Your climax hits so hard and so fast that it knocks the breath out of you, leaving you gasping his name, “Elvis, Elvis, Elvis!” Flaming white stars flash behind your eyelids as you flutter and clench around his length. Molten fire spreads from your core outward. You shudder and claw at him, at the bottom of the piano, at anything that will keep you tethered to reality while the rest of you shatters into a million pieces beneath him.

“Good girl, s’good fo’me,” he praises you through it, losing himself to you as you come apart.

You feel his hips start to stutter into you again because a primal need has him beyond the point of waiting any longer. Somehow, through shivering aftershocks, you have the wherewithal to force your eyes open, even as the rest of your body goes slack. He looks like Adonis in the throes of passion, his full and swollen lips falling open. In one fell swoop, he drops your hips and pulls his considerable length from you, his knowing hand pumping his slick-covered cock with expert precision.

Watching him come is a marvel and you make yourself commit this moment to memory, knowing it will fuel your arousal for years to come. He tenses above you, those sapphire eyes fluttering closed. Shivering tension ripples over him with a choked cry and through gritted teeth. Thick and warm white ropes erupt and splatter over your torso and you moan along with him. Then his eyes pop open pointedly as he watches himself cover you with his seed. The poignant, dramatic end of a brilliant symphony.

“F-fuck,” he pants, finishing off with another shiver. Exhausted, he catches himself just before crushing you with his weight, instead pressing his sweaty brow into yours. Your hot, heavy breaths mingle as you both try to come back down to Earth. He nuzzles his nose into yours before kissing your cheeks and your mouth.

Eventually, you find your words. “That was…incredible,” you say breathlessly, with no exaggeration.

He pulls back to look at you, with a goofy, pleased grin. “I told you I’d take care of you, Moonlight. And boy oh boy, was that a neat trick with the piano there…that part of your classical trainin’?” he says, blowing a lock of hair out of his eyes.

“Putting that college degree to good use,” you say with a giggle.

His eyes go wide and then he laughs—a musical, beautiful, contagious sound—which fills your heart up in a way you don’t quite understand.

He crawls back and helps you out from under the piano. Your back is rubbed raw from the carpet, which he kisses gently with apology, but you barely feel the sting. You are too dazed and relaxed to worry about much of anything.

When he helps clean you up and pulls you into his big bed, slotting you in next to him, you want to savor every minute. How he smells delicious and masculine, how the heat of his long body envelops your own—you want to remember everything.

Exhausted, you fall fast asleep, sated and cared for, knowing that you’ll never, ever be the same.

*

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[hyuckswoman]

can i ask for gymnast reader x mark 😞 anything that comes to your mind when having those topics LOL

gymnast!reader x mark imagine

genre: fluff

“fucking hell” you sigh out of frustration, you’ve been at it for forty minutes and still can’t get it right

“you good?” your boyfriend mark asks, he’s only joined you in the past 5 minutes but judging from how much your brows are furrowed and the amount of huffs and sighs coming out of you, anyone could tell something was wrong

“yea, sorry it’s just- coach asked us to practice our arches but I don't know each time I remember to point my toes I lose balance and fall, I'm sorry I’m just frustrated” you vent, you were sure if you tried once more only to fail you’ll start ripping your hair out

“lemme see” mark says to which you quickly reply no, yes he had been here for five minutes but he wasn’t paying attention to what you were doing and if anything you don’t want to show your boyfriend moments of ‘weakness’

“i get that you don’t want to show me and i won’t look if you insist but maybe i can help y’know? i don’t know much about gymnastics but maybe an outside perspective can make things better” mark says looking at you full of hope, if it were anybody else you would’ve cussed them out but how could you when he was looking at you smiling brightly hoping that you’ll take him up on his offer and show him

“fine” you grumble

you start off your handstand, waiting until that perfect moment where you feel balance- there it is. you slowly bend your body, point your toes and

fall. again.

“you did it tho? I don’t understand” mark says

again, if it were anyone else you would’ve cussed them out cause no dumbass I did not do it I fell

“my toes weren’t pointed and the second they were I fell. again” you say, you can feel your frustration piling up and need to remind yourself to calm down before you snap at your boyfriend (who doesn’t mean any harm)

“oh right, the toes. I still think you did pretty good but let’s leave for a second yea? take a breather then you can go back to practicing maybe that might help” your boyfriend says only now recalling your initial problem

you hesitated on taking a break but after all, mark did go out of his way to come see you at practice, you should spend a bit of time (especially knowing that you might be in an even more sour mood after) with him

“you know i think you’re being hard on yourself, gymnastics ain’t easy and the progress you’ve made is already really impressive, i don’t know anyone else that could’ve pulled it off but you did. so what you can’t do a stupid arch right away, you’ll learn how to do it in not long and it’ll be the best arch ever. you can trust me by the way, i’m an old gymnast so basically an expert in these things” mark says

you can see how hard he’s trying to cheer you up and you hate how much it’s working, his little goofy joke making you chuckle

“now cmon let’s beat that arch up baby you can do it i feel it in my gymnastic bones” he says getting up to head back to your practice area again while you follow behind hoping that you can pull it off to not disappoint your boyfriend

so you breathe in, breathe out go into a handstand, slowly lower your legs, point your toes and next thing you know-

you’re doing a perfect arch.

notes: ayooo, not sure if this was what you were looking for also not proofread but hopefully this is good enough? (sorry I don't know much abt gymnastics and I don't usually write but I tried lol hope you enjoyed it nonetheless!)

[thevulturesquadron]

THAT LATEST EPISODEEEE

Okay okay I have many thoughts and I apologise if this is gonna end up very incoherent and disjointed but I NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT BECAUSE AHHHHH

You know what the episode did very well (the writers, man)? Make the audience feel like they're taking crazy pills. There's this almost cognitive dissonance from the rest of the squad (Charles esp) with the way they say and behave because as Rogue stated "none of you were there". This is SO good in showcasing that you can be as understanding as you want, be literally a part of the same group... and STILL it's not enough because you didn't have the (in this case unfortunate) exact experience. The previous episode is a great addendum to this. The rest of humanity's (majorly the big wigs of course but you get what i mean) scared and at worst callous and apathetic reaction to the genocide. They're not scared because of what happened to those mutants, they're scared because of what Magneto would do in retaliation. Cooper is another example of how much actual experience can wholly change a person. She's not a mutant... but she was THERE. Erik and Rogue were there... right in the middle of it. How does anyone expect SOMETHING to not happen. You know who else saw what happened? Us, the audience. The latest episode felt frustrating and cathartic in the best way. It felt like decades of repressed righteous anger spilling in the most messiest manner, but it's OUT there. It needed to be said. Rogue's rant at the group before joining Erik, Erik's iconic "SHUT UP" line (yo lemme tell you istg i said the EXACT thing after that drivel Charles said). That's another thing that was so well done. Showcasing that no matter how well meaning Charles is... sometimes it feels like the dude's not LISTENING (Erik talks about watching a child be eviscerated in front of his very eyes, and I feel like all he's getting from others is an 'aw im sorry thoughts and prayers now can you please CHILL out') and does need this slap in the face. And the consequences keep piling up (the last big thing being what happened to Logan). Nothing will ever be normal and it's sad and scary and I'm very much looking forward to what comes next.

On a small note, showing how Roberto's decision was unsure with him trying to apologise to Jubilee and then his shocked reaction at her not wanting to hear him was so sad. It truly felt like a boy who only realised how massive of a consequence he's facing but just wanting his friend back.

I'm pretty sure I had more things to say and a more thoughtful way of saying them but anyway... 10/10. VERY ANGERING AND FANTASTIC. I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE LAST EP!!!

HI!!! ✨SAME!! 💜💜💜💜 thanks for coming in kicking the door down and shouting my way cause I needed that!! My brain has been stuck on a loop with the events in E9.

I love, love, love this episode exactly because of the strong emotions it made me go through. To see the division, to see where everyone stands, to see what matters most to them: what they are going through or an ideal? It. Was. So. Good! It was skin itching to see it at the same time. Each episode has continued to take me by surprise and go beyond my expectations.

I love how well the writers have been able to portray the difference between people who have been through horrible events, and those who have seen them ‘on screen’. Remember in episode 7 when Amelia said 'a survivor is the last thing I’d wanna be.’? Now it resonates even more than ever. It’s poetry. And yes, Cooper isn’t just someone who ‘saw it Magneto’s way’. No. She was one of the perpetrators caught in the middle.

So that when Scott goes around saying ‘Magneto is responsible for this.’ When Wolverine is out for blood - it should make you angry cause it feels like the crimes that Bastion has orchestrated are secondary to the X-men's agenda of 'righting a wrong'. Bastion is just a battle, another villain they need to defeat. But the call was coming from inside the house all along.

I’ve seen people online saying that this episode did Magneto dirty. But I think it’s the opposite. Magneto had always been capable of awful things in his pain and anger, but that’s not the point the writers are trying to make. The name of the episodes is ‘Tolerance is extinction’ - the whole point is to put the viewer in the uncomfortable position of understanding Magneto’s anger, but knowing his actions have big consequences, all the while making you lose your mind at how backwards and ignorant Charles' side seems. People are dying because ultimately his dream is more important than the people the dream is made for. And Rogue and Magneto are calling him out on it. The beauty of it is that Charles is preaching an ethical way where everyone matters, but how entitled and arrogant he must come across when everyone else around him is just ‘sacrifices he is willing to make’ for the sake of an ideal. It’s beautiful and awful that the cry for battle and survival is coming from the mouth of those that have nothing left but violence in them, while the champions of the just offer shackles and tell those that suffer to endure more for the greater good.

Yes this episode is supposed to make people angry and confused. And I think it succeeds.

If there is one less positive thing to say about the show, it's the pacing. You can feel that they were forced to put everything in just 10 episodes because there are a lot of moments throughout the show that are either missing or rushed. (For ex. in this last episode I would have liked to have scene with Rogue and Roberto on Asteroid M, in a similar fashion to what we got for the two X-men squads; just a glimpse at how things are impacting them instead of immediately seeing them in a 'villain guards' roles.) But I am not going to hold it against the show; from what they've delivered it reads a lot like cuts that they needed to live with.

[pinkamour1588]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by the fantastic @thighzp

Happy new year! I finally have a WIP I can share with everyone. I previously had been working on my fic for @thebrownstone’s Wrap It Up exchange but that one’s a secret (shhh). I’ve had the last week and a half off from work, and I think missing my work babies has resulted in me spending a lot of time thinking about Henry and Alex as parents and just the two of them with babies in general. This has hilariously turned into me hyperfixating on a seahorse dad trans!Alex fic. 

So, without further ado, here is a snippet of Alex and Henry after Alex’s first prenatal appointment. 

~~~

An hour later, Henry sat at the kitchen island looking over the pictures the technician had printed out for them while Alex cut up an apple.

“How’re you feeling after the appointment?” he asked as Alex put the apple in a bowl and sat next to him.

“Okay. Early ultrasounds are still hard. Like, I’m really excited and it’s a relief to know they’re doing well, but…yeah…I’m gonna call my therapist and change my appointment to be sooner.” Alex fidgeted with one of the slices before taking a bite.

“Anything I can do in the meantime?” 

Alex shrugged, swatting Henry’s hand away when he tried to steal an apple slice. 

“Do you want me to put the pictures away for now?” Henry asked as he picked up the strip.

“No, lemme see frijolito.” Alex leaned over to look closer at the pictures.

“Frijolito?” 

Alex gave him an exasperated look. “You know enough Spanish to figure that one out. And you called them a little bean first.”

“I do and I did. I’m just processing you nicknaming our child that.”

“You have any better ideas?” He looked at Henry expectantly.

“I suppose not.”

“Thought so.” Alex grinned, holding out an apple slice and laughing when Henry just leaned forward to bite it.

Tagging: @theprinceandagcd @starrypiscesao3 @rockyroadkylers and anyone else who wants to join in the fun

[rhiaemrys]

Im (metaphorically) kicking a wall. Anyway, have I ever spoken to this place about my Vingettes in A Cup Aventurine Au? No? Well congrats its in the works, and I want to see what people have to say about it.

Anyway I as I was playing through the event, I realized that, you know the one person other than the MC, who would be able to emotionally connect with supposed monsters who have incredibly unique personalities and in general are sorely misunderstood by literally everyone because of things outside their control?

You guessed it. Aventurine.

So, rolling with this epiphany, I decided to create a world where Aventurine was resuced from his master, who, for some god-awful reason, decided to drag him to Penacony. It was likely to show off to someone who was obligated to pay attention to him. He's rescued by Siobhan, who has just begun her Dreamjolt Hostelry for the Dreamjolt troupe and co (Im rolling that back a bit earlier into the timeline so Avens like just turning 15 at this point), and invited to join the Iris family as some weird pseudo younger-brother-son-person. (Funny part is, Aventurine in this au was still planning on killing his master in this AU, so hes a tad hair pissed about Siobhan messing up his plans. Little does he know its his luck running overtime to stop him from joining the IPC)

In exchange for some stage work as an actor to replace Siobhan, and utalizing his luck to stop people from cheating at cards at the gambling tables, Kakavasha or V as he's known here, is allowed to roam Penacony freely and take vacations when he wants. This means that he actually gets to know Sunday and Robin a fair amount before the story. (Lemme know if you want more about those dynamics because theyre a doozy)

All this culminates to Aventurine and Ratio meeting in the Hostelry where Ratio is looking for pieces of the entire Penacony Puzzle to help Topaz with her mission to reclaim Penacony. Ratio ends up slightly enamoured and bewildered by this insufferable bartender who knows way more about Penacony than anyone else yet seems to spend his time incredibly isolated from everyone else. Also he makes a mean fucking drink which Ratio needs after dealing with both Sunday and Topaz in the same room.

[multifanhoe99]

Kinktober Day 12- Threesome

Pairings: Zuho x Fem!Reader x Hwiyoung

Warnings: Daddy!Zuho, Nicknames (my darling, my love, baby), m/m action, spit roasting, light choking, unprotected sex, creampie.

=Let me know if I missed any.=

18+ MDNI

PROMPT LIST

MASTERLIST

Some people think that having two partners is impossible. Most people thought that everyone would be too jealous for it to work. That was not the case, especially in your relationship. Was it difficult? Yeah, of course, it could get difficult but, you got through the hard times together and with lots of communication. The thing that you had the hardest time grasping was that you managed to pull not one but two of the most beautiful, loving, and supportive partners anyone could ask for. With Zuho and Hwiyoung every day was an adventure. They each had their own quirks and they were just so easy to love.

Lately, you noticed that Hwiyoung had been really stressed about something. You and Zuho were in the kitchen just finishing cleaning up after lunch. You spotted Hwiyoung outside. He was just sitting on your porch bench staring out into the rain.

"Hey, Zu," you asked, "have you noticed anything up with Hwiyoung lately? He seems really down or stressed but every time I ask him what's wrong he just says it's nothing important."

"Yeah, I have noticed that too," he replied, "I think it has to do with the new song. He probably is just really wanting to do well on the new song."

"You're probably right. He would let us know if it was something serious," you said, "I just wish there was something we could do to cheer him up or get him out of his head for a bit."

"Well," Zuho started with a mischievous grin, "I know one thing we could do to get his mind off of it." Zuho had said it in a tone that you knew meant he was talking about all three of you having some intimate time together.

You weren't opposed to the idea but, you wondered, "Do you really think that will do the trick?"

"I'll tell you what my darling," he said, "why don't you think about it. I am going to go take a shower." He turned to go upstairs to take his shower and you stood there and thought for a moment. In the end, you didn't have to think about it much. Any excuse to be pleasured by your two lovers had you wet at the thought. Worse comes to worse Hwiyoung isn't in the mood and you all do something else instead. You walk outside and sit next you him.

"Hwi, my love," you sang out, "Tell me what I can do to quiet that beautiful mind of yours for a little."

He looks at you and chuckles, "I told you I am fine. I appreciate your wanting to help though. It's nothing more than work stress I will be alright."

"Are you sure," you asked scooching a little closer, "because Zuho had an idea that I think you'll really like."

"Oh, is that right," Hwiyoung asked. You just nodded in response while leaning in to kiss his neck.

"Mmmm, you two are going to be the death of me," he says pulling you into his lap. He kisses you passionately and then starts moving down to kiss your neck. He moves even further down sliding your spaghetti straps down to reveal your bare chest and sucks a nipple into his mouth. Meanwhile, you are grinding your hips down to meet his feeling his dick begin to harden beneath you.

"Let's take this out of the rain and head upstairs huh" you ask. He doesn't say anything. He just lifts you up and carries you inside. He carries you all the way to the bedroom and gently lays you down on the bed. He helps you take your shorts and panties off and starts going to town like a man starved. Soon, Zuho comes out of the bathroom with just a towel on.

"Mind if I join," he asks.

"Not at all," Hwiyoung said, "I heard this was all your idea anyway."

"Guilty as charged," Zuho replied, "Now, lemme get a taste of that." Instead of also going down on you Zuho pulls Hwiyoung in for a deep kiss. You loved seeing them be affectionate, not because it doesn't happen often, but because you loved seeing that they loved each other as much as you loved them and they loved you. Not too long after Zuho pulled away.

"I think it's only fair if you get to use her pretty pussy first Hwi," Zuho said coming to the other side of you so he could presumably use your mouth. They both took their time with you. Hwiyoung slides into your pussy nice and slow so you can get used to him and Zuho gently eases himself into your mouth. Once both men were inside you they gave you a little time to adjust. When you were ready for them to move they set the pace in an alternate rhythm. When one was in the other was almost all the way out. Hwiyoung also reached a hand up to play with your clit while Zuho gave attention to your sensitive, perky nipples. You tap on Zuho's arm letting him know you need to breathe or say something and he pulls out briefly.

"Ahhh, yess keep going I am so close I a-am gonna cum," you moaned out. The pleasure is so good and so powerful it has you cumming in seconds. They help you ride through your orgasm and then pull out. You almost think they are done, but they just stopped so they could switch places. Both of them are also fairly close and as they each enter you again they do not take as long to let you adjust before moving. The pace is faster now and more desperate. Soon Hwiyoung is cumming down your throat deep moans leaving his mouth. You swallow all he gives you. He then places his hand around your throat and squeezes.

"Come on baby you can give us one more can't you? Cum on Daddy's cock for us and maybe he'll fill you up really nice just like you like it," Hwiyoung said into your ear.

"Fuck Hwi," Zuho moaned, "Keep doing that our baby is squeezing me so tight." Hwiyoung continued encouraging you to cum again and Zuho helped by taking his turn to rub circles on your clit. The pressure built rapidly and then exploded. You came and then Zuho came filling you to the brim. Hwiyoung released his grip on your throat and you all lay there on the bed while you came down from the high of pleasure. At some point, Zuho left and then returned shortly after with a warm wet cloth to help clean you up. After cleaning up the three of you decided to put on some comfy clothes and watch movies and cuddle in bed.

"Do you feel better now darling," Zuho asked Hwiyoung.

"Yes, I do, thank you," he replied kissing Zuho softly, "And thank you too, my love." He leaned down to give you a gentle kiss also. The night ended with you comfortably cuddled between the two most loving, beautiful, and supportive partners you could ever have.

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

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please send in any asks if you have them my asks are open!!