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not-neverland06 · 5 months ago

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Kid?

Logan Howlett x fem!mutant!reader A/N: I haven’t watched X-Men since I was a child, so I can’t promise this is going to be canon-compliant. I haven’t watched DP & W either, I’ve just been influenced by that one gif where Hugh Jackman shakes his head like a dog. I feel FERAL Also, I am not good at superhero names or coming up with creative powers. So you’re a mutant with matter manipulation and they call you Flux. I mean, superhero names are inherently ridiculous so I think this works. (Don’t judge me, I’m just here for the sexy man) Summary: You walk in on Logan and Jean in a compromising position and feel your heart break. You really thought he loved you, you were so wrong. (Or were you?)

It was your own fault, you should have knocked before you busted through the door. You only have yourself to blame as you struggle to catch your breath and swallow down the lump in your throat. The image of Logan standing between Jean’s bare legs is going to haunt you for a while. Their faces will keep you awake at night, cringing at yourself while you remember the humiliating moment.

You rush towards the door, a stupidly giddy skip to your step. You were a mutant, a superhuman, and getting a chance to talk to your crush should not have you giggling like a schoolgirl. Still, you’re blind to all logic when it comes to Logan.

You turn the corner, spotting the medbay and nearly ramming into the door you know he’s lurking behind. Charles had told you where to find him. Of course, you hadn’t paid attention to the odd tone of voice when he had very clearly warned you to knock. All you’d heard was Logan’s name and you’d zoned out for the rest of the conversation.

And, of course, you don’t knock. You grab the door’s handle and bust in, “Hey!” Your eyes widen and your stomach plummets with a depressing plop to the floor. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see the way Jean and Logan are entangled in each other. He’s leaning over her, the muscles and veins in his neck pulsing with strain. Normally, that sight would have you nearly drooling.

Instead, all you can see is the flush on Jean’s cheeks and the way her pupils are dilated with want. Her nails are digging into his back, bare legs twined around his waist. There’s no way to misinterpret this. No way for you to later assure yourself that this was all just a misunderstanding.

The words stumble out of your mouth in a disjointed mess that even you can’t decipher. You stand there, jaw opening and closing like a fish out of water before you finally get it together. “Charles,” you stutter out, his name sounding like a question. You wince and finally tear your gaze away from them. “Sorry,” you chuckle, trying to play off your hurt as humor. “Charles needs us all for a mission.”

You don’t give them a chance to respond, you slam the door closed, ignoring what you think might be someone calling your name.

You shake off the mortifying memory and groan. Your head falls into your hands and you grip at your face until the pain distracts you from the embarrassment. It’s not too hard to push it all down, to pretend what happened didn’t make your heart crumble away into nothing.

Maybe it’s because you’re a mutant that you’re so used to rejection. You’re used to constantly being disappointed by people around you. Your childhood was nothing but cruelty, your crush not liking you back can’t compare to half of what you went through.

That’s what you tell yourself, at least, to try and pretend it doesn’t hurt as much as it does. You shove it down until you think you can’t feel that dull ache anymore. And when Jean and Logan walk into the room, looking more put together, you smile at Logan like you always do. It doesn’t turn down at the corners, your eyes don’t water. You take in a deep breath and look utterly unaffected.

He sits down beside you and leans towards you. “I can explain-”

You cut him off and shake your head. “Forget about it. I should have knocked.” You turn towards Charles who wheels himself to the front of the room. You dismiss Logan and ignore the way his stare burns into the side of your head.

Charles looks to Jean and Logan, a smile starting. Then his gaze drifts towards you and your chest deflates when you see the look on his face. He knows, the old miser probably coasted over your thoughts and he knows. He sends you a sympathetic look that makes you feel like a little girl who just got told unicorns don’t exist. “Jean, Logan, glad that you’ve finally joined us.”

Logan nods and leans back in his chair. But his eyes remain fixed on you and it makes you wish you could stab a fork into them. You let out a short, irritated huff of air and frown at yourself. Maybe you were a little more angry than you would like to admit.

You blame Logan for that. You never would have fallen so deep into infatuation if you hadn’t believed there was even a sliver of a chance with him. Always speaking so kindly with you when he would barely spare anyone a second glance. Constantly doing checkups on you after a particularly harsh training session with Charles.

Your mind runs over all the small things with him, everything you’ve done together. And you’re hit with a sudden nauseating thought. Oh my god, what if he sees me paternally?

You force yourself not to physically react but inside your throwing up and fucking freaking out. You feel a sudden spark of alarm from Charles and quickly do your best to fortify your mind so he doesn’t see your major mental freakout.

You’re not that much younger than him. Well, it’s not illegal, your crush on Logan. But what if this entire time, when you’ve been falling harder and harder for him, he’s just been platonically taking care of you? You’ve seen him do it plenty of times for the younger kids, as reluctant as he is to admit it.

You’re spiraling further and further into panic. So much so that you have no idea what’s even being discussed or what’s going on. You get onto the jet and have to ask Storm what you’re doing. She gives you a confused look but tells you nonetheless. Just some recon on a potential mutant trafficking ring. Nothing out of the ordinary, as depressing as that is. There shouldn’t be much violence, which is why your group is particularly small today.

You nod your head, moving like you’re in a daze as you throw yourself onto a seat. Logan sits beside you, an alarmed look on his face. “You alright, kid?”

The nickname, which is used to make your stomach flutter, makes you want to throw up. How have you missed it for this long? It was laid out so plainly before you. Of course, he doesn’t want you. Not when he has perfect Jean. Bile rises in your throat with a vicious ferocity when you glare over at Jean.

There’s a sudden petty, vindictive rage fueling you. The type you should have abandoned in high school, especially now that you’re grown. Instead, you feel like giving into Logan’s idea of what you are. You feel like reacting to all of this petulantly.

You ignore Logan and instead catch Jean’s eyes. Slowly, and with as much intention as you can force into your gaze, you look from her to Logan and then Scott. Her eyes widen and Logan scoffs beside you. She shakes her head minutely, silently begging you not to say anything. You smile at her and stand up.

You take a step towards Scott and Logan calls out an irritated, “Kid.” You ignore him and Jean eyes you warily as you approach. She stands like she’s ready to fight you and take the jet down just to keep you quiet. You reach Scott and can hear the way Jean takes in a sharp breath.

“Scott,” he looks up at you with his brows raised. There's a pause before you speak. Dragged on too long for Scott not to realize you’re planning something.

Jean takes a step towards you and you grin, “Mind checking my cuffs?” Scott gives you an odd look and his confusion only gets worse as Jean slumps onto the seat beside him. She’s not even trying to hide her relief. Scott shakes his head and holds his hands out, fingers gently probing around the cuffs on your wrists. The ones that keep your powers in check.

You’re still new to welding them. And they’re too entwined with your emotions for you to just have free range with them. If you hadn’t had the cuffs on this morning, you’re afraid you might have just turned everything around you into nothing but dust.

“They look fine, Flux.” His tone betrays his thoughts. He doesn’t know why you’d come to him for this when it’s Charles who usually deals with it. But this stupid, petty little display wasn’t for poor oblivious Scott. It was for the woman sitting next to him. The redhead whose still drilling holes into your skull.

You’ve got leverage over her that you’ve never had before. Scott wouldn’t take her little foray with Logan very well. And all it would take is a flick of your wrist to give him a very clear image of exactly what you’d seen. Then, her picture-perfect relationship would be over in a matter of seconds. You’re sure Logan would be more than pleased. But he doesn’t seem to understand that Jean just wants to have fun with him, she’d never choose him over Scott.

“Thanks,” there’s a bite to your tone that you’re not used to. You usually keep your emotions relatively in control. That way you won’t have to wear these cuffs one day. But you feel volatile today. You’re channeling your hurt and turning it into misguided anger.

You drop your wrists to your sides and stalk toward the front, hovering behind Charle’s and Storm’s chairs so you don’t have to look at the others. It doesn’t take long for you to feel the floor trembling under heavy booted steps.

Logan’s arms rest on the headrest of the chairs, bracketing you in between them so you can’t escape. He leans forward until his chest is pushed against yours and you can feel every ridge of his muscled torso pressing into you. You try not to suck in a breath, try not to play into the cliche of instantly forgetting why you’re angry when you’re faced with those muscles of his. It is hard, though, because he’s so handsome and so warm and you just want to melt into him.

“Wanna explain what the hell that was?” His voice is so low, whispering against the shell of your ear so only you can hear. You feel the vibrations of it against your back, his tone more gravelly than it should be.

You glance over your shoulder at him, face placid and blank. “What? Just needed some help.” Storm looks over at you both and rolls her eyes.

Logan opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off. “Put a pin in the lover’s spat, we’re landing.” Using just a bit of your power, you push Logan off of you and head towards the back of the jet. There’s a slight jolt as you land and then the ramp opens up and you’re practically running into the snowy forest.

You don’t know where you are, mainly because you weren’t paying attention, you just know it's fucking freezing. The leather of your suit isn’t doing much to help fight against the chill. Charles stays on the jet and reminds you all that this is only meant to be recon. You’re partnered up with Logan, and as much as it irritates you, you’re not stupid enough to argue against it.

You have to put aside your personal grievances for this mission. You can’t risk the safety of mutants because the guy you like likes another girl. Logan seems pleased about it, stubbornly staying by your side even when you make it clear you want space.

You both linger behind the other’s as Storm leads you through the forest. Jean is being more touchy with Scott than normal. Either to assuage her own guilt or to rub it in Logan’s face, you’re not sure which. You nearly gag as you watch them whisper to one another, you glance over at Logan to see if he notices.

You’re startled when you see him already staring at you. His lips tick up into something mischievous when he catches your eye. That smug smirk on his face as he leans in towards you. “Wanna tell me what’s got you so pissed off?”

You roll your eyes and tamp down the rising tide of anger. “Nothing,” you bite out, jaw clenching the longer you stare at the back of Jean’s head. You’re surprised you haven’t chipped a tooth with how hard you’re grinding your teeth together.

He scoffs, not believing you for a second. He doesn’t say anything, just gives you an expectant stare. You can taste the words forming on your tongue, an irritating urge to just spill your guts overcoming you. Before you can stop yourself you blurt out, “I’m a little surprised that’s all.”

“Oh yeah, ‘bout what?” You hate how amused he sounds, the chuckle just lying in wait under his words. Like your anger is funny to him, like he didn’t just break your stupid fucking heart.

You stop walking, not feeling as intimidating as you want while you shiver and huddle into yourself. He seems perfectly at ease in his leather jacket and beater, still refusing to wear the uniform. He leans back and looks at you with a fondness that you can’t tell if you love or hate. “You and little Miss Perfect.” You spit the nickname with enough venom to make both of your eyes widen.

Logan rolls his eyes and takes a step towards you, again, Storm interrupts you both. “Guys, really?” Everyone turns around to stare and you will the heat in your face away. “Not the time,” she scolds and you brush past Logan to catch up with the others.

You come upon a warehouse, it’s nearly camouflaged under all the snow. You see two guards waiting outside the metal doors and you all disperse behind the trees. Storm glances towards Jean who focuses on the guards. They drop to the floor and you wave your hands, their guns melting into puddles of metal.

Logan and Scott move forward, sliding the large metal doors open. You wince at the loud screeching as the rust flakes off the sides. There’s a collective quiet as you all hold your breath, waiting for them to give the all-clear. Once they run inside and run back out, you and the others quickly get to your feet and rush into the warehouse. Logan closes the doors again as you make it inside.

“No one here?” Storm checks. Scott shakes his head and you frown. That doesn’t make any sense. Why would there be guards if there was nothing inside?

Your question is, unfortunately, answered a minute later. You find a pile of metal crates stacked on top of each other. A large beige tarp covers them. You tug at the corner, letting the fabric slide off. Your eyes flutter with disappointment, “Guys! Over here,” mutants sit inside the crates. Each of them stares at you with varying degrees of mistrust and fear.

As awful as it is, you’ve gotten used to these quiet depressing missions. There aren’t usually many mutants in one place. They don’t like to keep the product in one spot for too long. There are only four kids here. The youngest is eleven and the oldest is seventeen. There’s nothing physically telling about their abilities so you assume it must be psychic powers.

They don’t want to come with you until you all give them a demonstration of your powers. Proving that you’re not just trapping them and taking them somewhere worse. You’re nearly out the door when Charles's voice rings loudly through all of your minds.

You wince at the volume, hands coming up to grip at your hair as he shouts, “Behind you!” A gunshot rings out, something hot rips across your wrist and you gasp in pain. There’s a clatter of metal as your cuff drops to the ground, the bullet having destroyed it. Without them both, they’re useless. One won’t work without the other.

You glance up at Logan, a panicked look on your face. You can already feel the tidal wave of power thrashing and building in your chest. It’s been so long with the safety net that you forgot how bad it gets without the cuffs.

“We need to get you out of here!” He shouts over the gunfire. He herds the group behind a cluster of metal shipment boxes. It provides enough cover for you all to try and figure out an escape plan.

You listen to the other’s worried voices, each of them trying to console the kids. You don’t know their powers yet. Don’t know what might go wrong if they get too scared and can’t control their abilities.

You can’t speak, breaths coming short and fast as you clutch your wrist to your chest. You know it’s delusional, hoping that if you keep a tight grip like the cuff you might be able to control yourself. You can already feel the energy leaking out of you, the ends of everyone’s hair stands on end. The wall in front of you warps and cracks like it can’t decide if it’s liquid or solid.

You grit your teeth and look only at Storm. “You need to get out,” you force the words out. It causes physical pain to try and keep everything at bay. You can feel pressure building in your forehead, pushing out until you think you might explode.

“We’re not leaving you,” Logan snaps. There’s shouting going on behind you, a pause as they all reload their guns.

“Wasn’t a question,” you grit out. You look towards Jean and there’s a moment where you both put aside your differences. You both know how stubborn he is, how much he’ll fight against leaving you behind. Regenerative powers or not, it's dangerous to even be close to your gift now. You can see them all straining against the ebbing flow of your powers. Their skin shifts unnaturally like you’re already altering the atoms of their being.

This is why you’re only allowed to train with Charles and Jean. They can get in your head, shut it down when you can’t. You’re not sure you’re going to survive yourself. Logan glances between the two of you and practically growls at Jean, “Don’t you fuckin’ dare-”

His words trail off into an unintelligible slur as he slumps forward, Jean having knocked him out with her powers. Scott grabs him and grunts under the weight of his body. “I’ll cover you,” you gasp the words out. Anything but focusing on your powers causes physical strain that makes you feel like you’re being tugged in a hundred different directions. “Just get them out,” you nod towards the kids.

Storm nods and you slip out of cover. It isn’t hard to push your powers in one direction, to solidify the air in front of you so the bullets ricochet harmlessly off. You listen to the whine of the metal door and wait for the others to be gone.

“They’re in the jet,” Charles's voice rings out. “Don’t do this,” he warns. You can’t think of a response, you’re not even sure what you would say. You never thought you would be able to approach death this calmly, or that this would be how you die. It feels almost pathetic, dying because you lost control on a recon mission.

At least those kids are safe. It’s not a bad reason to die. Just not great. You glance down at the other cuff on your right hand, the air around it fluctuates until it melts off your wrist like liquid metal. With the last barely there tether off your powers, you close your eyes and release the tidal wave.

It feels like a dam exploding. It doesn’t leak fluidly from you, it rips through you like a hailstorm of knives. Tears apart anything in its path and rewrites the molecular build of everything in its path. Screams echo through the air as men’s bones turn into brittle dust and their hearts morph into something inorganic. You’re blind to everything around you, vision clouded by the horrific release of energy.

You can feel warmth leaking down your face. Blood still pours from the wound on your wrist, and fresh blood from other wounds you can’t even feel. You don’t know when the screams stop, or when you’re finally drained. But you feel like an empty husk as you drop to the floor, your head bouncing harshly against the cement as everything goes black.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Logan says with a grin, glaring at Scott even though it’s Charles who is holding him back. He’s got a firm mental grasp on Logan, keeping him locked into place while he focuses on the warehouse.

They’re waiting for the all-clear. The others know there’s always the possibility that they’re going to be collecting a body. But none of them are willing to say that, not with the look on Logan’s face. His muscles look ready to pop out of his skin with how much he’s fighting against Charles’s hold.

Scott backs away from Logan with a scoff. He stands near Jean, but she can’t take her eyes off the restrained man. Nothing had happened this morning, Flux had seen to that. Interrupting them just as they’d started. Seeing the way he’s acting now, she’s starting to believe that nothing is ever going to happen.

He’d looked like he was about to dismiss her when she started making a move. She can see the anger on his face, it seems he’s only ever pissed off. But underneath that, as much as he hides it, she can see the fear. He’s terrified that they're going to walk in there and you’re going to be dead.

Jean can feel the fear of the others as well. They’ve only seen you lose control once and that had almost leveled the mansion. Charles had stopped you then, but the loss of the cuff had been so sudden Jean just barely had enough strength to keep the others blocked from your powers. She didn’t have enough time to shut you down.

Jean, as much as she’s tried to deny it and dismiss her suspicions, can’t look Logan in the eye and ignore it anymore. It’s never been her that he’s wanted. The way he trails along beside you, always prodding and poking until you’re pissy and mouthing off. It’s not done because he finds antagonizing people fun, it's because he loves seeing you all worked up and passionate. He doesn’t view you through the same platonic lens he does the others. You’re something else to him, something she doesn’t want to name, afraid of the bitter taste it will leave on her tongue.

Charles slumps back in his chair and Logan suddenly lunges forward. He looks a little surprised by the sudden freedom of movement, but before any of them can stop him he’s running out of the jet. “Logan,” Jean tries to call after him but he’s already a distant blur.

Scott sighs and starts down the ramp. “Come on,” he mutters. He’s the last one who should be coming along. If anything is wrong with you, he’ll end up being Logan’s punching bag. Jean follows reluctantly, she’s not sure she wants to see what’s happened.

Your powers are too similar in their volatile nature. The way they rule you and come so close to destroying you when you use them too much, is too familiar to Jean. She doesn’t want to see you lying dead on the floor and be reminded of her own mortality. But someone needs to make sure Logan is stuck on a leash.

They reach where the warehouse should be. It’s nothing but a pile of rubble now. Throughout the wreckage, Jean can make out odd pools of liquid, some writhing, others still. She can only assume that these had been the men shooting at them. She doesn’t see your body, none of them do. But Logan isn’t giving up.

He lifts different pieces of metal and tosses them off into the forest. Jean doesn’t sense your presence anywhere but she doesn’t have the heart to tell Logan to give up. After a few minutes of searching, she almost tells him to quit. But she can’t see him anymore. He’s disappeared somewhere behind a particularly large pile of roofing. A moment later, Logan stands up. His jacket is gone, wrapped around the body in his arms. None of them are close enough to see if you’re breathing. And he doesn’t say a word as he brushes past them, just keeps going back to the jet. Ororo, Scott, and Jean all share a silent look. None of them prepared for the potential fallout that’s going to happen after this.

The first thing you feel is two familiar bands of metal around your wrists. The comforting feeling of the cuffs is enough to have you sinking further into the pillows surrounding you. Then you hear the beeping in your ear, feel the cool blow of AC, and become startlingly aware of the fact that you’re in a bed you don’t recognize.

You groan, eyes peeling open painfully as your lashes get stuck on your skin. You reach up to rub at your face but your arms feel too weak to lift. You give up on the thought, instead staring up at the ceiling and waiting for your vision to refocus.

A throat clears in front of you and you nearly jump out of your skin. Sitting at the end of your bed, arms crossed and a fierce glare on his face is Logan. His feet are propped up on the small table beside you. He quirks a brow and gives you a sardonic grin, “Finally awake, princess?”

Normally the name would have you up and doing somersaults, but there’s something distinctly negative and disappointed lacing his tone. It squashes any and all butterflies in your stomach. You grimace as you try and sit up. Logan is up in an instant, an annoyed look still on his face as he helps you up.

You can’t help your dopey smile at how gentle his hands are on you. Even pissed off, he treats you so kindly. Maybe it’s the drugs relaxing you, or the fact that you almost died, but you can’t remember whatever made you mad at him. You can only feel the slide of his calloused hands against your arms, the way you shiver under his touch and crave more.

He pulls the chair closer to you with a loud scratch of metal feet on the linoleum. You groan at the loud sound and he huffs, throwing himself down in the seat. “How do you feel?”

Your head sinks back against the wall and you finally realize you’re in the medbay. It’s why everything smells so sterile. “Like I got hit by a semi.”

He barely lets you finish your thought before he spits out, “What the fuck were you thinking?” He doesn’t ease you into this at all and you frown. You’re not sure why you would expect him to ever beat around the bush. That’s not his style, he’s always been blunt. Even when others wish he wouldn’t be.

“What else was I supposed to do?” You ask, voice weak. Your throat feels like it’s been ripped apart. Idly, you wonder if you had been screaming in the warehouse or if this was just general strain from the whole ordeal.

“Not put yourself at risk like that.” He leans forward, voice stern and bordering on shouting. You know he’s holding back. As much as he wants to lay into you right now, he’s stopping himself from going completely out of his mind. You appreciate it, but you almost wish he would just yell at you. You wish you had a reason to resent him, to finally get over him. “Not have Jean knock me out like that. You don’t get to make those decisions for me.”

It’s completely inappropriate and horrible timing, but you can’t help but scoff at the mention of Jean’s name. Can you not have one conversation that’s not tainted by the mention of the redhead?

Logan’s mouth snaps shut and he glares at you in disbelief. You squeeze your eyes shut, not willing to face him as embarrassment washes over you. No wonder he always calls you kid. You’re not exactly acting like an adult. You’re being a brat and for such a stupid reason too.

Just because you like him doesn’t mean he has to reciprocate. You can’t just force your feelings on someone. “Logan,” you whisper his name, “Sorry. I’m sorry-”

He cuts you off before you can finish. Some of the anger, but not all, has ebbed from his expression. He almost looks like he’s smiling. “Jean? That’s what this is about? Jealous or something, sweetheart?”

You sputter, shocked little noises leaving you but no words. After a solid minute of restarting a sentence you don’t know how to end you finally land on a squeaky, “Who?” If you weren’t so mortified, you might have just thrown yourself out the window. Out of every cop-out you could have gone with you chose to just pretend you didn’t know who she was. Maybe you could make this work, like selective amnesia.

Your shame only builds as Logan laughs. You cover your face and wish you could bury yourself six feet deep and never come up. You feel two rough hands wrap around your wrists, tugging your own away from your face. You don’t have the energy to fight back, so you keep your eyes on his chin. Too afraid to meet his gaze.

“Come on,” he mutters, gently nudging your chin up until you’re forced to look at him. You're caught off guard by the look in his eyes. You recognize it, but you’d only ever seen it directed at Jean. It’s the same way you’ve always looked at him. Pure unguarded want and desire.

The hand on your chin drifts back, fingers tangling in your hair and gently resting on your jaw. He tugs you forward until your lips are nearly touching, breaths mingling with every exhale. “Only ever wanted you, darlin'.’”

The kiss catches you off guard. It shouldn’t, deep down you knew it was coming, but the intensity behind it, the way you can practically taste how bad he wants this, wants you, catches you off guard. You lean into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting yourself melt into his hold.

His free hand drifts to your waist and clutches the flimsy hospital gown until you hear it tear. You part your lips, deepening the kiss so you can finally taste him. It’s cigars and whiskey, something you should hate but is entirely intoxicating when he’s holding you so tightly. Fireworks are going off in your mind, sparks darting between your fingers as the cuffs struggle to contain all the energy suddenly pushing out of you.

He can feel you holding back, squeezing you like it’s a promise he can take it. Take everything you throw at him. You let go as much as your cuffs will allow you. Let the energy blanket you both so you can’t hear your heart monitor going off like crazy. So you don’t feel anything other than each other. You think you’re going to devour each other like you’ll just keep kissing until neither of you can take it anymore. You don’t want to let go of him, don’t want to lose this moment.

But you have to breathe. You don’t get to just keep living the way he does. You pull away from him slowly, every part of you dreading separating from him. His forehead drops against your own, his laughter playing along your lips as he finally hears the monitor going haywire.

You groan, flicking your wrist and shutting it off so it can’t betray how flustered you are anymore. He gently nudges you aside so he can sit beside you on the bed. You don’t waste a second before you’re draping yourself across his chest and siphoning his warmth. He chuckles, arms coming up to wrap around you.

“Can’t believe you were jealous of Jean.”

“Shut up,” you snipe. You look up at him and glare, “How else do you explain what you two were doing?”

He leans forward and gives you a smug grin. “She came onto me, sweetheart.” Your face screws up in distaste and jealousy. She’s going to need to learn to keep her hands to herself. He seems to feel the way you tense up, he huffs in amusement and rubs your back. “Relax, you’re gonna blow your fuse again.”

You glance down at your wrists and nuzzle further into him. You can’t believe you could have been laying on him this whole time. You never want to use a blanket again, not when you’ve got him. “I’ll be fine now that I’ve got my cuffs.”

His hand stills on your bicep. He squeezes it before his hand drifts up to your chin and he tilts your face up again. “I don’t ever want to see that again.” You’re a little surprised by the sudden shift in tone, but you knew this was coming.

“I had to, Logan. I either took you all down with me or I went on my own.”

Logan frowns and takes in a deep breath. You place a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. He smiles down at you, “Next time, take me with you. I’m not fucking dealing with Summers without you.”

You can’t help but chuckle. Your face grows warm and your chest expands with some odd gleeful feeling as he laces your fingers together. “Deal,” you whisper, still smiling at him.

A/N: Okay, this might be shit, I’m not sure. I sort of rushed the ending because as I was writing this I had another idea for him. I guess I’m officially off my hiatus.

#wolverine x reader #Wolverine x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x you #x men #deadpool and wolverine #Wolverine

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dawnwriterimagines · 6 months ago

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The Guilty Plea

SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY x FEM!READER TASK FORCE 141 x FEM!READER

Traitors Among Us (Part 1) and Innocents Among You (Part 2)

Verdict Due (Part 4) Clear Skies (Part 5)

Summary: As you're discharged from the infirmary, under watchful eye, you head to Laswell to talk on the rest of your now ruined military career. Of course, you're forced to confront your team as it happens, the last people on earth you'd like to see.

If you liked this would you Buy me a Coffee?

---

Running your fingers along the raised, pink scar across you cheek, the feeling of it...it really looked terrible. A part of you thought it would disappear, hoped it would, but it didn't. It just became severely more noticeable. Looking at this, you knew you'd always have to think of it. You'd sport this reminder for the rest of your life.

Looking away from it, you find your own tired eyes in the mirror, you haven't been sleeping well. Or at all. You can't remember the last time you got 4 hours, let alone 8. Dark circles still surrounded them but at least the bruising and the swelling had gone down.

You couldn't recognize yourself. Not really.

This woman looked so exhausted, so frail and so goddamn angry. It was accurate, it was how you felt. All of it. So, you supposed that the mirror's reflection was the truth, this was you indeed.

"If you need another day or two, no one will ask questions."

You glance over towards your psychologist, your fucking therapist, a nice little 'gift' sent over by the bureau to check in on your mental state after your ordeal. Glaring at him through the reflection of your mirror, he sighs, putting down his pen that slaps against his notepad, "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

"I'm going to Laswell." Ignoring his statement, you speak. "I'm ready. I'll pack up. Get back to base. Vera had me discharged from the infirmary. I can start ov--"

"Vera?"

"My nurse. You met her," you continued, annoyance spiking at the interruption. Your wrist brace squeaking quietly under the pressure of your fist tightening beneath the table.

"Right..."

"Do you listen to a word I say outside of...my 'trauma'?" You wonder, bluntly.

Your psychologist blinks, surprised, before clearing his throat, appalled. "If you feel I can be more attentive to your state of well-being throughout our process, than by all means--"

"Oh, so 'no'?" you lean back into your seat, a strained laugh leaving you. His lips press together and you continue before he can find the words. "Because whenever I mention leaving this fucking team, you either adjust our schedule for another two weeks or suggest hypnotic therapy, as if I need anyone else digging around to fuck up my mental state."

"I never meant to imply--"

"Oh, you implied it," you interrupted, gritting your teeth. "I know what I want. And I want off Task Force 141."

He taps at the leather of his notebook. "Scars heal, just remember that, Ms. (L/n). The reminders of your experience shouldn't have to haunt you."

"It's not the scars, I've had my share way before this," you admitted, rising to your feet. You exhale deeply that tells to the effort of it, the steel gear hinges along your leg braces shift with your change of position. Still getting use to them. "It's the person."

"Has she changed, you think?" the psychologist begins to write, getting somewhere.

"She doesn't exist anymore."

Finally, placing the mirror down and onto the side table, you pushed off of the table, rolling your IV pole along with you. Passing the chair your psychologist sits on, he closes his notebook with a frustrated huff, looking over his shoulder. "Session over for you already, Ms. (L/n)?" he sighs. "We've still got the hour."

"I'm done," you take the knob in your hand. Turning.

In more ways than one.

"You understand that, informing your captain on your leave is required of you. Have you spoken to any of them, in the last few weeks?" he spoke up, quickly. "I'm sure giving them a space to open up, share from their view--"

"Why should I care--"

"--will give you better understanding, better clarity of the situation they were in--

Appalled. "What the fuck?" Jamming the door closed with a loud, shuttering thud, you whip around. "IT'S NOT ABOUT THEM!" you could just rip your hair out. "Who--who says that to someone?!"

Your psychologist sits there, eyes wide in confusion. "What--"

"Christ, can you hear me? Can you--can you see me? I've got metal plates in my spine, braces holding my knees in place and nerve damage that'll never heal! Who gives a fuck about them!" your skin feels red hot, your face twisted in rage. "I gave my life! My life to this! And then I'm tortured, I'm threatened, drugged and beaten by my own team, my f--my family for eight fucking years..."

You continue with a heavy chest. "And I'm supposed to invite them for dinner to talk and listen them bitch and moan about why they thought it was necessary to beat me to death for two weeks?! Fuck you!" you spat. "I don't owe them anything!"

"That's not what I was trying to say, Ms. (L/N). I apologize, I overstepped. Come sit down--"

"Of course you meant it," you interrupted, mock humor. "Don't be a pussy, own up to it. Revel in your truth. Be tter yet--" you snatch a journal from the cabinet. Tossing it his way. "Make a note of it."

Turning the knob, you leave the room with a slam of the metal door.

---

You were officially famous. On the base, you were now a legend.

A story that would be mentioned and told at lunch for months. Probably years.

First, you were a rat. Next, you were innocent. This was the most gossip any of those in service had ever seen in their years of service.

An interesting reminder to those in service that you weren't safe off duty either.

You learned a few days ago that there was an update put into the interrogational unit, something about how to properly go about dissecting evidence and being on the lookout for enemy spies in the militia.

You guessed you had been told about it in an effort to be appeased by the thought that the head of control paid attention to anything beyond their own noses for once. But, you had little to no faith in a system that's nearly killed you on and off the field by now, so it didn't matter.

You doubted the new rules would be followed though, there was a plethora of things they'd done to you in that cell that were both illegal and unsanctioned. Most of all, that were expected towards an enemy, a prisoner of war at best, and not a fellow marine.

You arrive at the housing quarters, swiping your key card, pulling the handle and entering the wing. Immediately, you're greeted by a dozen eyes, conversations stopping short and clothes ruffling to silence, suddenly whispers fill the space and eyes turn away.

"Oh, god, it's her..." says one man in the far corner.

"Shut the fuck up, man!" came a harsh whisper back.

"I didn't know it was that bad..."

All those eyes on you, makes you pause in your step, looking around at all of your fellow soldiers, the men and women you've served with for years. Many you recognized, ate with, fought beside that turned their backs to you now. Out of respect? Out of distaste, morale, nerves, pity, it all didn't matter. It all felt the same.

The wheels attached to your IV pole suddenly sounded much too loud on the polished flooring, as you walked down the hall as fast as you were able to.

Breathing out deeply, you get to an elevator, pushing on the button, once, twice, three times, just open goddamn it.

With a ding, the metal doors open, and suddenly you're aware that people could be in the elevator, they could be in this elevator, he could be in this elevator. Your eyes flicker down to the floor, your grip on the pole of your iv tightens, your shoulders stiffen, waiting for a blow that will never come.

You stand there as the doors open up, the small space empty, the metal walls reflect only her and a streak of lighting from the ceiling.

Looking up slowly, finally taking a breath, before sliding the iv up and onto the elevator, following it as you press your floor number along the way.

The ride up is fast, a little rumble as it stops, and then the doors open. Faster than you were prepared for.

Peeking out down the hallway, luckily no one to bump into, which you were thankful for. But, it didn't make this hall any less haunting. You'd been cornered in this same hall, you could recall being hauled out of the room after the solid handle of a knife hits your temple.

You don't go down fast enough, whipping around as you stumble to take the wrist of your attacker, mostly for balance, it's Price. In shock, you're unprepared as Johnny's arm encircle your neck, locking you into position as you both stumble backwards onto the floor. He blocks your airways, hushing you harshly as you struggle, feet kicking out and your vision blurring as your team surrounds you. Your family.

That was quite the headache to wakeup with afterwards.

You hadn't quite remembered until now. Being back served as a hell of a kickstart to your memory.

Just a few more reasons to get the fuck off of 141.

Getting off the elevators, the metal doors sliding closed behind you, you make your way down the hall. The polished flooring creates a subtle squeak through the wheels of your iv pole, your hand absently running over the fading stitches along your side.

Passing the shadows of your tortured memory, the doorway of the office was closed, locked.

You pass Kyle's room.

Johnny's.

Finally, you rush up to the next room on the left, grabbing the handle, before beginning to twist, but then you're yanking your hand back as if the metal had burned you. Your back ramming into the back wall, catching yourself, this wasn't your room.

It was Simon's.

You'd spent hours, days, in that room. More than your own.

Why wouldn't you? You were about to get married to the man. You had more in this room than you had in yours.

Sharp breaths leave you, shivering in your effort to keep yourself together, your head goes back into the wall, swallowing down the ache in your chest.

You wait, muscles tensed and your body pressing back into the wall, hoping it'd absorb you if that door opens. Listening for every sound, any pin drop, even an exhale from beyond that doorway. Luckily, Simon seemed to be out for the day.

Hurriedly, nearly running, you steady yourself against the wall as you rush down to the corner of the hallway, finally finding your room.

Turning the handle, it's not locked, it's broken. It opens with ease.

Entering the room slowly, pushing the doorway aside, the crackle of glass beneath your boots as you step forwards, clothes and picture frames laying scattered.

The mattress flipped and ripped open, springs and cotton cut from it. Your wall of metals and certificates, from acts of bravery and mementos of valor, discarded, later you'd find them in the trash, one with a bullet lodged into the gold.

Sniffling as you leaned down, picking a specific frame off the ground, the only one that hadn't been broken. Laying along the ruined rug, with no care for the glass digging through your jeans, you stare at the still shot of your family.

The only family you had outside of Task Force 141, your father and his sister, military brats themselves, until their retirement. Your mother had passed, or just up and left, days after your 5th birthday, you weren't completely sure, the story kept changing every year. But, these two were the only family you've ever known, ever had, until you joined the military, following in their footsteps.

They'd been so proud when you arrived back after your first assignment, in truth you were heavily traumatized, but seeing them, you just had to smile. Having a family that understood the harsh toll on the line of a trooper, now a lieutenant, it was always easier to bring your troubles to them. But, they were also military nuts so "suck it up" was also a quick go to answer from your aunt, while your father was the smoother talker.

They had met Simon, loved him, his rank, his love for you, his seriousness. They trusted him completely with your heart.

So, when he called them, after the evidence leaked...

They believed him.

"What're you talking about?" You took the handle of the chair in your grip, easing you down into it as your legs do weak at what you were hearing. "I didn't...I didn't do it, Dad."

"Do you know how humiliating and disappointing--how it felt to hear him say that to me, hm?" he says, static crackles on the reciever. "My daughter...my own flesh and blood...working with terrorists--"

"I'm not working with anyone! Are you-" you huff out a breath of disbelief. "Are you even listening to me? I've never betrayed the code. How can you think that way of me?"

For a moment, he's silent. "Alright, then," he began. "Than, what'd you do? huh?"

"What--what..."

"Oh, come on, (Y/n)!" your father yells. "What did you do?! What could they possibly have had on you that made you the most likely target? You had to have had done something, been somewhere, were with somebody you weren't supposed to be with! They didn't just get that information from anywhere."

"What the fuck--" Your expression twists with frustration and misery, running your hand through your hair, pulling at it. "I've sacrificed every part of myself for this job, for this team, what do I have to gain from throwing that all away? They send me everywhere, places you've never heard of, places you'll never hear about and people you'll never have to meet, because of me! Why would you just believe Simon? Why couldn't you just wait to talk to me?!"

Hearing your father scoff at your words was painful. "What reason do I have not to believe him? He knows you, maybe even better than any of us. Besides, he was going to be my son in law--"

"I'm your daughter! Fuck Simon, what about me? You'd believe him instead?"

He sighs. "Listen, you're upsetting Cass. We didn't expect your call. I gotta make this brief..."

"You're upset?" pulling at your hair, sucking in sharply. "I'm the one who's permanently fucking altered here. What do either of you have to be upset about?!"

"Watch your fucking mouth!" he seethes. The anger in his voice isn't new, but the way he spits it at you is. "You did this to yourself, I didn't. Maybe that's what your nightmares were about, am I right? Your guilt?"

Wiping the streaks of tears that had fallen down your face, lips quivering and chest aching with sobs you frustratedly shoved down. "Why don't you believe me?"

"I don't deserve the disgrace that will come with you as my kin, I've lived my part of this war. No daughter of mine should even be in this fucking position," your father spat, disgusted into the receiver. Suddenly, he was the cruel, bitter old man your mother had always known him to be, you wished she had stayed to at least remind you of that. Maybe it wouldn't have hurt as much. "You should be ashamed of yourself, but at least you got yourself out it. The least you could do for us."

"Well--what does that mean?" you spoke, quietly.

"Don't call again..."

"Dad, no--" you break this time, a sob escaping you.

"Me and your Aunt Cass..."

"Daddy please, don't do this--"

"..We've decided to cut ties. We're not taking any heat from this, you're on your own," he finishes, clearing his throat, waiting a moment, listening to the pleads and cries of his only daughter, his once pride. "You take care of yourself. Goodbye, kid."

"Why can't you just believe me? Why?!" you cried.

"Don't come to the house."

"No, no,--" the line goes dead. And staring down at your phone, his caller id going blank and the call disconnecting.

Your phone all of a sudden feels heavy, the device and your hand falling down to your thigh, before the phone slips out of your grip and onto the floor. You sit there silently, until your tears drop up and even after.

Staring at the photo now was haunting in its own way, it was just another painful reminder.

Using the bed frame to stand to your feet, your grip on the frame is painful as you squeeze it, the glass cracks audibly.

"Bonnie..."

Whipping around at the sound of John MacTavish's voice, you back up a few steps at the sight of him, your back hitting the edge of your desk.

He reaches out as you stumble, before his fingers curl back into his palm as you find your balance, his hands receding back to his sides. He doesn't enter the room, just lingering just beyond the doorway, his eyes flickering around the room, guiltily.

"I didn't know--we didn't know you were out," he speaks quietly, as opposed prideful personality that translated into his voice usually.

You say nothing.

In the dark, your eyes are wide and your shoulders are tensed up, he can see the glint of your leg braces, the iv pole at the side, the scar beneath your eye. You looked terrified to see him.

"We were coming back to clean up today, just got back from...from a mission..." he stutters on his words, shifting his feet.

"It's been a week."

His lips press together hearing your voice. "I know..." Johnny glances around at the room he'd let those officers destroy, it hadn't been them, but they might as well had done it. "I know...we just...didn't know it was so bad."

"Really?" your voice is mockingly sweet, drawing out the word. "You didn't know? Well look..." you hold up your family photo, the light in the hallway catching on the glass. "You missed one."

Your hand dropping, the heavy frame comes down just as fast, ramming into the ground, the glass practically exploding on impact.

Johnny flinches, the photo of your family...He looks back to you, surprised. "Bonnie..."

Snatching the next closest thing from your desk, a ceramic cup. "Oh, wow, can't believe you guys missed this one," you chuck it into the wall. It breaks on impact, the remains scatter along the flipped mattress and onto the floor. "That used to be my favorite mug by the way."

The Scotsman worriedly steps forwards, 'Lass, I'm sorry--"

"FUCK YOU!" you spat, coming into the light. You're sure you look deranged, and you didn't care. You could've wrapped your hands around his throat, killed him right on the floor and you wouldn't have blinked. "It doesn't mean anything! 'I'm sorry', 'I'm sorry', 'I'm sorry', over and over and over again! As if you shouldn't be! Your apologies mean fuck all."

"I know...I know," he breathes. "But, I've gotta say it anyway, bonnie. I should've believed you, there was no reason not to. I know that now. I just--"

"Believe me!" you cut him off with a yell. "Trust me! Fucking 'HELP ME'!" you screamed with the same fever as your days in the interrogation room, that terrible cell, the cold, the burn and pain. "I cried it all to you, to all of you, and nobody came. Nobody came for me," you breathe in sharply. "It doesn't matter what you should've done. You didn't do it!"

Johnny's eyes are red, he opens his mouth, closes it and then swallows down whatever chokes him up as he looks at you. "I should've came for you. I wish I did. I wanted to, Bonnie..." he steps forwards, and you recede back away from him, your eyes narrowed with violence. "I'll never forgive myself for not listening to you. For not coming to help you. For laying a hand on you. I'm so sorry, (Y/n). I'm sorry..."

I'll never forgive myself... "That makes two of us," you assured.

Johnny's eyes widen, before they close, his guilt ever consuming. He can't help but understand, to respect your decision, to know things can never be ok again. "(Y/n)...."

Grabbing hold of the nearest thing, a pencil cup, you hurl it at Johnny. He doesn't put his hands up, flinching as it hits him, the metal clinking against his kevlar, eyes closing then opening, he stands still. "I don't forgive. I don't accept your apology. I don't fucking care about it!" with each sentence you throw something else his way, a broken frame, the trash bin, a pillow, the CD player.

His hand has to come up for the knife you unsheathe, a memento from one of your missions, it's rusted, ancient probably. But, you hadn't given it up to a museum or to pawn, you had nearly died on this mission, saving Johnny ironically. You had to keep it.

Seeing the weapon, his defensive position is instinctive but his hands drop just as fast, he understands, you need this. You deserve this. "If you need to..." he speaks. Your eyes flicker up to him, away from the knife. "If you need to, I get it..."

And you need to. You really fucking do.

Your grip on the knife is dangerously hard, it hurts.

Looking at Johnny, he'd been your brother in more than a few ways on and off the field, he had been your comfort, your friend, your family. You had bled with him, held onto him as he carried you from the battlefield, joked, laughed, screamed and cried. You've loved him for years.

He'd had a rough few nights you could see that. He was quieter, reserved. Almost as terrified to see you, as you had been of him.

And you could kill him right now and never bat an eye.

And so, throwing that knife was so fucking easy.

Johnny's eyes close as you do just that, fists clenching and teeth biting down on his tongue to prepare for the pain.

The ancient weapon whiz's through the air, the sound is sharp and he knows it will cut through him like butter.

The thud rings in the room, and Johnny's eyes blow open wide, holding his breath as he collapses to his knees, before turning to you.

You dig into the pile of clothes that had been cast aside, a pair of sneakers and a new shirt. You don't look at him a single time as you take it all, stuffing them in a bag, and leaving the room, passing him completely, a limp in your step.

Johnny releases a pained breath, tears finally leaving him as he looks up, the knife lodged into the frame of the doorway, just barely missing him. The sleeve of his uniform ripped open.

He sits there in the quiet, destroyed room. A testimony to the relationship he's destroyed between you.

Part 4!! OUT NOW

#simon riley angst x reader #cod angst #tw torture #tw angst #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #ghost angst #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty

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prettieinpink · 2 months ago

Text

MY FAVOURITE PRODUCTIVITY HACKS, SYSTEMS & TOOLS

Disclaimer: I have no idea if these are actual practices with real names. Some hacks I knew of before and learnt, and some I’ve developed myself.

SANDWICH METHOD. For me, It’s difficult to get into the flow of doing a difficult task. Instead of facing the task head-on, I start with something that's productive but doesn’t take too much mental or physical energy. For example, If I want to study, but I’m not in flow, I’ll just start by doing some Duolingo or Elevate, which prompts me enough to get started. Then after the difficult task, so that I don’t interrupt that productive flow, I’ll do another easy task like tidying up my room.

5 MINUTES ONLY. If I’m desperate to not do a task at all, like I’m on my period, sick, or overall in a bad mood, I’ll tell myself, just five minutes of doing said task. 90% of the time I keep on going to complete that task. However, in that 10% when I don’t continue, at least I had 5 minutes of progress for that day, so it's not wasted at all. Plus, typically when I don’t follow through after the 5 minutes, it’s a sign that my body or mind is just not up to it today and forcing it will strain me.

BIG THREE SYSTEM. If you usually have a long to-do list for the day, I recommend this system. In the big three system, you only have 3 tasks to do each day. These tasks are both urgent and important. If they are one or the other, or neither, I would cross it off and try to narrow it down to three each day.

Having just three each day is less overwhelming, it’s easier to remember throughout the day which tasks you have to complete.

MAJOR & MINOR SYSTEM. If you’re someone who just can’t narrow it down to just three, then this system might work better for you. So, each day you have 1-3 major tasks, and 1-3 minor tasks. Major tasks are both urgent and important, while minor tasks can be either or the other (but not neither).

It helps to relieve the pressure of having big tasks only for the day ahead, as you have some tasks that are smaller and easier, hence minor.

WANTS AND NEEDS. I haven’t used this system intensively yet, but I would use it if I were getting out of a rut or a slump. Make a list of 1-3 things that you need to do. I would make these tasks a bit more on the simpler side if I were using this system, but that’s just my preference. Then make a list of 1-3 things that you want to do.

Then once you’ve completed at least 1 task, you get to do something that you want for that day. I wouldn’t use this as a permanent system, but it's up to you.

BRAINDUMPING. I don’t braindump at a specific time of the day, what I do instead is write whenever. I always have my phone close by or Macbook, so in my notion, I’ll write in my braindump section quickly and then put it away.

You could carry a notepad, or write it down in your journal at the end of the day but I recommend recording ideas or thoughts instead of letting them float away.

That’s it for the day! Hope you stay hydrated and safe, especially during the holidays.

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its-avalon-08 · 4 months ago

Note

Hi! Could you please write something where reader and Lando have been together for a while and the hate never got to her until she saw a comment about her using Lando’s money and Lando never had a problem with it. But reader starts using her own money but she doesn’t have a lot of it and one day she misses a call from the bank and Lando answers it and finds out her funds are low and he put it together. Happy needing though where Lando reassures her that he loves her using his money.

what's mine is yours (ln4)

✦ pairing - lando norris x female!reader

✦ genre - gold digger tweets, money problems, tears, fluff

Lando and Y/N had always had an easygoing relationship. From the moment they met, things just clicked. They’d been inseparable for years, growing through the ups and downs of the racing world together. She was his anchor, and he was her biggest supporter. Despite the scrutiny from the public eye, their relationship was grounded in mutual respect and understanding. Lando always made sure she felt cherished, often indulging her with gifts, fancy dinners, and trips—but none of that ever really mattered to Y/N. She loved Lando, not his lifestyle.

Still, there was always an undercurrent of judgment from certain corners of social media, as there often is for the partners of famous athletes. Y/N had long trained herself to tune out the negative noise. But today was different.

Sitting on the couch while Lando was out at a sponsorship event, she scrolled through Twitter. It had been a typical day, filled with photos of the two of them that fans had posted, some sweet comments and, as usual, some not-so-sweet ones. She should’ve stopped scrolling when she saw a thread discussing her. But instead, her eyes caught on one tweet.

@SpeedyPaddock: "Does Y/N ever spend a single dollar of her own? I swear all I see is Lando footing the bill. She’s just another gold digger… probably why Lando doesn’t mind either, right? He’s got the money to throw around."

Her heart sank. Y/N stared at the screen, feeling her chest tighten. She had never thought of it that way—sure, Lando loved spoiling her, and she’d accepted his generosity because it made him happy. But was she really taking advantage of him?

She shook her head, trying to clear the heaviness settling in her chest. No, Lando would never think that. Yet, the words echoed in her mind, twisting her perception. What if other people thought the same thing? What if they saw her as nothing more than someone who used Lando’s wealth to get by?

I can't do this anymore, she decided. She wasn’t going to be seen that way. From now on, she'd stop using any of Lando’s money. She wouldn’t tell him—it wasn’t his fault, and she didn’t want to burden him with her insecurities.

Y/N sighed, putting her phone away, her mind already racing with ways to distance herself from his lavish spending. This wasn't about them, it was about her.

time skip

The shift was subtle at first. Y/N stopped suggesting they go out to fancy dinners or buy anything extravagant. She even started paying for smaller things—coffee, groceries, or an Uber here and there. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go to their favorite restaurants or enjoy the life they’d built together, but she didn’t want to add fuel to the assumptions people were making online. Every time Lando offered to cover something, she’d smile and politely insist on taking care of it herself.

Lando, oblivious to what was going on in her head, didn’t think much of it at first. He’d tease her with a grin, “Trying to outdo me, are you?” And she’d laugh it off, hiding the unease in her heart.

But as the weeks passed, the strain began to show. Y/N wasn’t rich—not by Lando’s standards, not by any stretch. Her savings weren’t endless, and the more she tried to maintain this facade of independence, the more she found herself running low on funds. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep this up, but the thought of being seen as a "gold digger" kept pushing her forward.

One afternoon, as Lando was lounging on the couch, Y/N’s phone rang. She was out picking up some last-minute groceries, and without thinking, Lando picked it up when he saw the caller ID—her bank.

"Hello, this is Lando. I’m answering for Y/N."

The bank representative, not knowing any different, politely responded, "Hello, sir. We were just calling to inform Ms. Y/L/N that her account balance is quite low, and we’ve noticed a few declined transactions recently. We recommend a transfer or deposit soon to avoid further issues."

Lando’s face dropped, confusion swirling through his mind. "Uh, okay. I’ll let her know. Thank you." He hung up and stared at the phone for a moment, piecing things together.

When Y/N returned home, she found Lando sitting on the edge of the couch, her phone in his hand, a serious expression on his face.

"Hey, everything okay?" she asked, setting the groceries down.

He looked up, his blue eyes soft but concerned. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

Y/N froze. She had no idea what he was talking about. "Tell you what?"

"The bank called. They said your account’s low… and that there have been some declined transactions. Y/N, why are you doing this?" His voice was gentle but filled with worry.

Her heart sank. "Lando, I—" She trailed off, not sure how to explain. The tweet flashed in her mind again, and she could feel the walls closing in.

Lando stood up and walked over to her, his hands resting on her shoulders. "Talk to me. Please."

She exhaled slowly, her voice trembling. "I saw a comment a few weeks ago… someone said I was just using your money. That I’m a gold digger and that you don’t care because you can afford it. It got to me, Lando. I didn’t want people to think that I’m only with you for your money. So, I started using my own… but I didn’t realize how fast it would run out."

Lando’s expression softened even more, his brow furrowing as he pulled her into a hug. "Oh, Y/N…"

She buried her face into his chest, feeling the weight of her decision catch up with her. "I didn’t want to tell you because it wasn’t your fault. It’s just stupid people online. But I didn’t want to be seen that way."

He pulled back slightly, cupping her face in his hands. "Listen to me. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’re with me because you love me, and I love you. It’s never been about money, and it never will be."

"But—" she started, but he cut her off gently.

"No, but. I want to spoil you. I want to take you to nice places, buy you things, and make you happy. That’s what people do when they love each other. It doesn’t mean you’re using me. You’re not a gold digger, Y/N. You’ve never been." He kissed her forehead softly. "You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Especially not to me."

Tears welled up in her eyes, not from sadness, but from relief. She’d been carrying this burden for so long, and now, hearing Lando say those words, it felt like the weight had been lifted. "I just didn’t want you to think I was taking advantage of you."

"I know you, Y/N," he whispered. "You could never do that. I love you, and I love sharing my life with you. That includes my money, okay? We’re a team. Whatever’s mine is yours."

Y/N nodded, tears spilling over as she smiled softly. "I love you too, Lando. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner."

He wiped her tears away with his thumb, smiling back. "Don’t be. Just promise me one thing."

"What?" she asked.

"Promise me you won’t listen to those idiots online. They don’t know us. They don’t know what we have."

Y/N let out a soft laugh. "I promise."

Lando grinned, pulling her into another tight hug. "Good. Now, let’s go out tonight. My treat. And before you say anything, it always will be."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully, the tension finally easing between them. "Fine. But I’m picking the place."

"Deal."

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lightsoutletsgo · 10 months ago

Text

the one where ollie lives alone (cl.16 x bearman!reader)

pairing: mainly ollie bearman x oldersister!reader for this part but there's a plenty of charles leclerc x bearman!reader here and there!

word count: 4.2k

warnings: a whole lot of stupidity mentions of death, seemingly angsty in some parts (you'll see what I mean) this might be one of my favourite parts I've written for any series ever 😭 it's so dumb but so funny (according to the people who proofread for me!) as always let me know what you think! your comments are always appreciated. happy reading! mimi 🤍

taglist: @arieslost @iamapersonwholikesunicorns

“Jesus Y/N, what the hell is in here?” Ollie wheezed as he staggered past you, arms straining under the weight of the box he was carrying. You rolled your eyes, “You’re so dramatic Ols, it’s literally just makeup.”

“Is that the last box ma belle?” You turned and saw Charles in the doorway, staring at you fondly. “Mhmm! Everything else is in the van.” You held your arms out to him and he crossed the room, pulling you in by your waist and kissing you softly, “I can’t believe you’re finally coming home with me…” You smiled, looping your arms round his neck, “Me either,” He booped your nose with his own, a loud cough making the two of you jump apart as Ollie leaned against the doorframe, one eyebrow raised, “Are you two done being gross?” “Shut up dummy.” You punched his arm as you walked past him towards the front door. You inhaled deeply, it felt strange but exciting to be moving out and into Charles’ apartment.

Behind you, Charles watched Ollie stare at you, looking like he wanted to say something. He quietly padded up behind the younger driver and nudged his arm, “Are you going to miss her?” Ollie was startled but quickly scoffed, “Hmm? No way!” Charles gave him a pointed look, “I get the whole place to myself! I can’t wait!” Charles gave him a smile and punched his arm gently, “We’re only ten minutes away if you need us.” Ollie laughed, “Thanks but I can manage!”

♯ incident 1 - the dishwasher ⊹.∿ As it turned out, Ollie could in fact, not manage. Mere hours after you’d left him, you found yourself sprinting back up the stairs, cursing the old apartment building for still not having an elevator. You reached the floor of your old apartment and checked the door to see if it was open, turning the handle and entering you called out, “Ollie? I got your text!” You poked your head into each room as you went, searching for him, “What’s the emer…gen…cy…” You trailed off as you reached the kitchen, Ollie staring up at you with wide eyes, crouching next to the dishwasher that was… pouring out soapy bubbles? “Ollie!” “I think I made a mistake.” He said dryly, suspiciously poking some of the bubbly foam next to his shoulder, “Yeah, no shit Sherlock.” You said sarcastically, thinking of a solution, “You put dish soap in didn’t you?” He nodded sheepishly, “There were no dishwasher tablets left so I just… thought on my feet?” You facepalmed and sighed, “Okay well, we need to- DON’T OPEN IT!”

You looked on in horror as Ollie pulled open the door and a torrent of soapy warm foam spilled out and all over the kitchen floor, creeping further into the centre of the room, was it… growing? You looked over at your brother to see him staring back at you with comically wide eyes. “So that’s why we don’t do that.” You said, face deadpan. Ollie giggled nervously, “Oops?” A snort from behind you had you turning round to see Charles filming the whole thing, “Oh some help you are babe.” Charles coughed to cover up his laughter as he put his phone away and entered the foamy bubbly monstrosity that was now the kitchen. “Somewhere under here there’s a bucket and mop.” “Ollie?” “Yeah?” “You’re going in.”

♯ incident 2 - french toast ⊹.∿ A few days had passed since the dishwasher incident and you dozed in Charles’ arms, enjoying the lazy Sunday morning sun slipping through the bedroom curtains. The previous night’s activities had left you a little worn out and with no plans for the day, you had wordlessly agreed that a cosy day in bed was just what you needed. A shrill sound pierced the air and jolted both you and Charles awake. You scrambled to find your phone, as Charles groaned, hands rubbing his face as your hand came up to feel how quickly your heart was pounding. You glanced at the screen as your hand met your phone and you scowled, Charles rubbing your back and doing his best not to laugh as he saw who was calling you, “Ollie Bearman, you better have a damn good reason for calling me this early on a Sunday morning.” There was a pause, “It’s eleven o’clock?-” “That’s not the point!” You sighed, “What do you need?” “Well, you see… I have a question.” “Go ahead,” “So I was making french toast right? And I followed the recipe exactly as you wrote it out! Right amount of eggs, milk and sugar.” “So what’s the issue?” Ollie sighed, “It won’t cook but it smells a bit smokey…” You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Then turn it down?” “I don’t know how!” “Turn the hob dial down dummy!” Ollie went silent for a second, “Did you say hob dial?” Alarm bells started ringing in your head, “Why would I adjust the hob when I’m using the toaster.” You froze for a moment before pulling your phone away from your ear and putting it on speaker, unable to believe what you were hearing, “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” Charles gave you a concerned look, sitting even closer to you and wrapping one arm around you while the other rubbed your knee comfortingly

“I said, I’m using the toaster.” You stared at your phone, mouth slightly agape, “You’re making french toast in the toaster?” “Correct.” Charles snorted and choked back a huge guffaw of laughter as the hand he’d placed on your knee came up to cover his mouth, his face turning pink with how hard he was laughing, “Ollie! French toast isn’t made in the toaster!” “It’s called french toast!” You pressed the video button and changed the call to facetime. Your brother stared back at you, looking rather dishevelled, “That’s a rather deceiving name if you ask me!” You groaned, facepalming, “You make it in a frying pan” Charles was no help next to you as he wheezed silently, grabbing his own phone to record the conversation for later use and hilarity. “Well how was I supposed to know that?!” Ollie was indignant as he pleaded with you through the screen, “OLLIE! You’ve watched me make it hundreds of times!” He pouted through the screen letting out a little ‘hmmph’ “Well if you hadn’t abandoned me, we wouldn’t have this issue would we!” You rolled your eyes, “For the last time, I did not abandon you! I live a 10 minute walk away!”

You sighed before laughing at your brother lovingly, “Alright then silly, head over for lunch and I’ll show you how to make french toast the proper way.” Charles snorted once more and you both burst into giggles as your brother scowled at you, “Stop laughing at me!” Ollie whined, you caught your breath and wiped your eyes, heart warm at the silly moment you knew would turn into a fond memory, “Uhhhh Y/N?” You looked back at the screen to where Ollie was turning the camera round to show you a sparking, smoking toaster, “I don’t think it should be doing that…” You cursed as Charles scrambled out of bed, pulling mismatching socks on as you grabbed a hoodie, “Change of plans Ols, we’re on our way!”

♯ incident 3 - Gerald ⊹.∿ Things were peaceful for a couple of days after the french toast debacle - something you were more than thankful for, wrapped up in your perfect little bubble with Charles. Of course you continued to text Ollie, but there had been no major crisis that required your immediate attention. Until there was.

It had been one of those long lazy days spent at home, until Charles had announced he was taking you to dinner and told you to get all dressed up. You’d slipped on one of his favourite numbers and he’d shown his appreciation more than once, sliding his hands round your hips and squeezing while you waited to be seated, pulling your chair out for you to sit down and sliding his hands down your arms once you were seated, moving his chair round the table to sit closer to you so he could place a slow smooch against your neck. You hummed happily as he fed you a mouthful of his dish, “I knew you’d like it!” You smiled at him, “I like most things you suggest…” He bit his lip as his eyes darkened slightly, “Is that so?” You nodded, eyelashes fluttering as your lids close, “What if I suggested something a little… more intimate?” You giggled, picking up your wine glass to take a sip and hide your face, too shy to keep the eye contact, “I wouldn’t mi-” Your phone blaring cut you off and you gasped, rushing to put your glass down as other customers in the restaurant glared at you, Charles chuckling quietly next to you, his hand resting on your thigh and rubbing soothingly.

“Ollie I swear to go-” “He’s dead.” You heard your little brother sniffle and adrenaline kicked in, “Ollie, who’s dead?” You kept your voice as calm and quiet as possible, you heard him sniffle once more before a sob left his mouth. That was all you needed to hear before you were grabbing your clutch and nodding towards the door. Charles tilted his head and you mouthed your brother’s name. He nodded understandingly and rushed to pay the bill before you were both scurrying back to his car. As soon as you were buckled in you put your phone on speaker, “Ollie… Honey… what happened?” Charles also looked panicked as he heard Ollie’s choked sob, “He was fine and then he just… wasn’t.” “Who Ollie, who’s not fine?” You pleaded, “Ge-” You cursed as the call cut out, “It’s okay ma belle, his phone probably just died, we’re almost there okay?” You nodded, hands nervously twisting and wringing together in your lap. Charles eyes darted to your hands for a second before looking back at the road, one hand leaving the steering wheel to gently hold your hand in his. You looked at him and squeezed, a wordless thank you.

As soon as Charles pulled up, you were racing out of the car, slipping your heels off and carrying them in your hand as you sprinted barefoot up the stairs of the apartment building. You reached the door and rang the bell, knocked, called his name, anything you could think of to attract his attention. The door opened slowly and it wasn’t Ollie that appeared but Arthuer Leclerc, looking ever so sombre, “Arthur?” Your eyes were panicked as you looked him over for any injuries or obvious isses. He simply held his hand out to indicate to you to enter and you slowly stepped through the door, “Where’s Ollie?” Arthur nodded, head down towards the ground and the panic rose in your chest again, “He’s in the living room, saying his goodbyes.” “Goodbyes to who?” You paced down the hallway and burst into the living room, your jaw dropping at the sight you saw.

Ollie stood in front of the coffee table that was lit with candles, dressed in a suit and your brain suddenly registered that Arthur had been dressed the same way. You were even more concerned when you saw Arthur’s girlfriend fully dressed in black, standing next to Ollie with a comforting hand on his shoulder. You approached him slowly, arms opening and your expression softening as he turned to you with a red splotchy nose and red-rimmed eyes, he fell into your arms and you patted his back, gently shushing him, “What happened, Ols?” “He’s gone.” Ollie croaked out, “Who’s gone honey?” Your voice was gentle as you stroked his hair, the same way you did when he was younger and couldn’t sleep, “Gerald.” “Oh.” You said softly, “Was he a friend?” Ollie nodded and you held back a wince as he rubbed his snotty nose onto your shoulder, knowing he needed you, “He was such a good friend.” You led him over to the couch and sat down, his head falling onto your shoulder as you continued to play with his hair.

You were aware of Charles appearing in the doorway and you gave him a brief smile, before turning your attention back to Ollie, “Would I know this friend?” Ollie nodded, his sobs quieting to sniffles, “You were his friend before I was.” Your stomach dropped as you frantically thought of who Ollie could possibly be referring to, feeling guilty that your mind was blank, “The funeral was lovely.” Arthur’s girlfriend nodded solemnly, a hand over her heart as the other hand came up to dab her eyes with a tissue, “The funeral has already happened?” You were confused as Arthur nodded, “Just before you got here.” Your eyes shot to Charles who was just as concerned and confused as you, “Wait, the funeral was here?” Ollie scoffed, “Well where else would it have been?” “Wait Ollie,” You held his face in front of yours, “Why was the funeral in your apartment?” “He wanted to be remembered in the place he was most happy…” Ollie sighed wistfully, his head turning to look at the coffee table once more.

You squinted, focusing on a shape amidst the flickering candles and once more your mouth gaped as you stood up and stormed over to the other side of the room. “Ollie. Bearman.” You gritted your teeth, “Don’t tell me that this was all about a fucking cactus?” “Succulent!” Ollie snapped at you, wiping away a tear from under his eye, “He was a succulent,” He whispered as he looked down at the floor. Charles broke first, snorting in the doorway and you watched as he did his best to choke down his laughter, coughing and shaking his head, you watched as he excused himself from the room for a moment to force a solemn expression back onto his face. He returned but you could see the laughter threatening to bubble over as he took in the sight before him. Ollie, his younger brother and his younger brother’s girlfriend all dressed in black and in mourning for a succulent that sat sadly on the coffee table and looked like it had been watered a little too much.

“I’m glad you got here,” Arthur spoke up suddenly, “Oh goodie, do tell me why.” Your tone was sarcastic. “We’re about to do the funeral exit.” Charles was holding in his laughter so much that he now had tears streaming down his face and Arthur patted his back with a ‘there, there’ and handed him a tissue. “Arthur’s girlfriend has agreed to sing the exit song and we’re so thankful she has.” “Who is we Ollie?” You brow furrowed as you looked around the living room, “I-I…” You sighed. “Go ahead.” You all stood still, heads to the floor as Arthur’s girlfriend launched into a rendition of ‘Memory’ from Cats, “Miiiiiiidniiiiiight, not a sound from the paaaaavemeeeent.” Charles quietly crossed the room to stand next to you, nudging you gently with his shoulder, “Interesting date night hmm?” You growled, “Don’t you dare encourage him.” Ollie approached you, “Do you want to say your final goodbyes?” “Ollie, why would I care about a succulent?” He gasped, “It’s Gerald!” “Yes Ollie so you said, but why would I care that it’s name is Gerald?” Ollie shook his head, “Don’t even recognise your own friend…” Arthur tutted and even his girlfriend gave you a disapproving look as she continued wailing in the background, you mentally made a note to apologise to the neighbours the next time you were here during normal sociable hours.

You rolled your eyes at your younger brother and stepped forward to ‘pay your respects’ to the succulent. Your eyes narrowed, “Oliver. James. Bearman. That’s MY fucking succulent!” “It was nice of you to wear black.” He continued, nodding towards your dress and Charles blazer and pants, ignoring your exclamation. “We were on a date!” You screeched, Charles once again powerless to help in any way, instead just collapsing with laughter. You growled as you lunged for your brother, “Ollie, I swear there will be a funeral tonight.” You hissed, “Yours!”

♯ incident 4 - spiderman ⊹.∿ After everyone had said their goodbyes to Gerald, he had been unceremoniously dumped into the rubbish bin and that had been the end of it. Ollie had promised to buy you a new succulent and had learned that they did not, in fact, require watering every day, and you now forever had ‘Memory’ stuck in your head. Once more, peace had been restored but you doubted it would last much longer.

Your theory was proved correct when a few days later, your phone rang. An unknown number. You ignored it at first, all too aware of strange reporters and crazy fans who would do anything to get closer to Charles. You simply went back to reading your book, until your phone rang again. It was an unknown number still and you grumbled, rolling your eyes and answering quite snappily, “Yes? Hello?” The voice on the other end of the line seemed almost taken aback, “Umm excuse me is this Y/N Bearman?” You sighed, “Yes it is, no I won’t give you a quote and yes Charles is great in bed, goodbye!-” “No wait please! I’m from downstairs! You live in 10B yes?” You stopped as your finger hovered over the end call button and brought the phone back up to your ear, “Uhhhh I used to, yes, can I ask why?” “Oh, well there’s a man trying to climb onto your balcony and I was concerned that’s all.” Your stomach flipped, your mind rushing to thoughts of someone breaking in when your little brother was home alone, “I’ll come over now! My younger brother still lives there.” You raced to grab your keys and jumped into your car, deciding to get there as soon as possible rather than walk. Who was stupid enough to break in in broad daylight? You briefly considered calling the police but you were sure the idiot would be gone by the time you got there. Your car pulled up and you craned your neck to look up at the balcony of your old apartment. Your eyes widened and you gasped as you spotted that there was indeed a man hanging off of your balcony, “Holy shit,” You mumbled, scrabbling to open the door and race towards the apartment complex. The closer you got you squinted as you realised the hoodie looked ever so familiar. “Ollie?!” You yelled up and shrieked as your brother looked down at you, giggling nervously as his feet kicked back and forth as he desperately searched for a footing, “What the fuck are you doing?” “Uhhh I can explain!” He yelled back to you, “H-hold on, I’m on my way up!” You hurried up the stairs, once more cursing the lack of elevator as you finally reached your floor, unlocking the door and rushing through the apartment to french doors out onto the balcony.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” You screeched, leaning over the balcony and diving to grab him and pull him up, “Ollie that’s so fucking dangerous!” “Look!” You heard a kid shout from the street below, “It’s Spiderman!” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, "He wishes!" You paused for a moment to yell back, before resuming hauling your brother over the apartment balcony. “How did you even get up here? Why are you up here?” Ollie chuckled, panting slightly as he finally threw one leg over the ledge, “Funny story actually…” You raised an eyebrow, “Well please share,” “I forgot my key…” “I-” In your shock you almost let go of him and his scream attracted the attention of yet more passers by below, laughing and pointing at the odd sight they were witnessing. You smiled down awkwardly before turning back to Ollie once more, “Why didn’t you call me?” Ollie whined as you began to tell him off, “Because I didn’t want you to find out…” “Oh so this was a better idea- Ah!” You squeaked as Ollie tumbled over the ledge and onto the balcony. Landing on your stomach in a tangle of limbs, “Your foot is up my butt!” “Yeah well it wouldn’t be if you hadn’t been being stupid! Anyway, get your elbow out of my eye!” “Oh I’m sorry, I was making sure I wasn’t about to fall to my death!” You shoved Ollie off of you and led there on your back, panting, Ollie much the same,

“For the record, you are the shittiest spiderman there is.” “Thanks, that’s really boosting my confidence.” “Glad I could help.”

♯ the resolution ⊹.∿ “We need more protection.” You announced loudly, stepping into the kitchen “Excuse me?!” Charles choked on his protein shake, cheeks turning pink and you heard Max snort on the phone, “God, no! You pervs… I meant like, we need protection from Ollie and his dumbass incidents.” Max cackled, “Charles has sent me the videos, I was dying at the dishwasher incident.” You groaned, crossing the room to stand next to Charles who sat at the breakfast bar. He grinned as you rolled your eyes at Max who you could now see was on facetime. “Yeah, well I’m turning grey way sooner than I should!” You joked. You chatted with Max a little longer before Charles signed off with the promise of joining him to game later.

You sighed, leaning against Charles’ side, “What’s wrong ma belle?” You took another breath and paused, “I’m just… worried about Ollie…” Charles put his arm around you and rubbed your back soothingly, “What has you so worried mon amour?” His expression was warm and you knew he wasn’t angry with you, rather genuinely curious, “I just feel like… maybe he isn’t ready to live on his own yet?” Charles nodded at you and you took that as a signal to continue, “I mean, he’s always had me there to help him and I know someday he’s gonna have to get used to me not being there but I just feel like right now…” You trailed off with a sigh, “He still needs you.” Charles finished and you gave him a grateful smile and nodded. “But, I don’t wanna leave you. I love living with you and having you around and I love just... living life with you. Am I selfish for not wanting to give that up?” You bit your lip, moving away from Charles to pace the kitchen floor. Charles shook his head with a fond smile,

“Ma belle… You’re not selfish for wanting to do something for yourself and I’m proud of you for wanting to pursue that, especially since it’s me you want,” he slid his arms around you as you stepped next to him and dragged you backwards to him, making you giggle, “but I also know that you want to be there for family and I can understand that, you guys are close, the same way that me and Thur are, probably even closer.” You hummed, leaning back against him, “Thank you for being so understanding.” You sighed, “Now I just need to work out how to fix it…” Charles smiled and turned you round in his arms, nudging your nose with his, “Well… we have a spare room?”

Which is how you found yourself hauling boxes upstairs a week later, “Jesus Ollie, what the hell is in here?” You wheezed out and Ollie simply smiled at you, patting you on the head as he walked past you, arms empty, “You’re so dramatic Y/N, it’s literally just a few bits.” You poked your tongue out at him as he mimicked your words from just a couple of months ago. “Is that it mate?” Charles head appeared from behind the apartment door and Ollie nodded, as you finally conquered the stairs and planted the box down on the hallway floor. “Now let’s go over the rules one more time Ols.” He sighed, “Fine…” “Rule one?” You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, “No dish soap in the dishwasher…” He grumbled, Charles chuckled, “Rule two?” “No cooking without supervision.” Ollie recited as you nodded, “Don’t worry, that rule applies to Charles too.” “Huh?!” “Shush baby, rule three?” You turned back to Ollie, “No watering the succulents unless instructed, no matter how sorry I feel for them.” You nodded, “I am not having a repeat of Gerald and the… funeral.” You shuddered, as Charles snorted before asking, “Rule four?” “Always call one of you two if I forget my keys…” “And?” You raised an eyebrow, “No climbing balconies under any circumstances.” You clapped your hands together and smiled, “Good! Well I can’t think of anything else, can you?”

You turned to Charles who shook his head and Ollie who just shrugged, “In that case, let’s go! Pizza for dinner sound good?” The three of you walked into the apartment and the door to the hallway swung shut, your arguments about pizza toppings muffled through the door, but the happiness and love you felt for each other not dulled in the slightest.

#mimi.writes #bear hugs series ˚ʚ🧸ɞ˚#f1 fic #f1 series #f1 fluff #f1 crack #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #ollie bearman fluff #ollie bearman fic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #f1 oneshot #f1 fanfic

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lipglossanon · 3 months ago

Text

Our Lips Are Sealed

Brother-In-Law!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

A Little More Savory tier commission from Anon 💜

Word Count: 2173 (I keep going over 😩 lol)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, cheating, dirty talk, cucking (although the husband doesn’t know lol), breeding, size kink, breeding kink, kissing, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

proofread ✍️

It’s another dumb family get-together hosted by your husband, which is basically an excuse for him to invite his brother and a few close cousins and get blackout drunk. This time, he uses the excuse of it being the holidays.

“It’s the best time for families to come together!”

His exact words to you as the first of the invitees showed up at your front door. You’re honestly not surprised. It’s something you’ve come to expect from your husband. It’s put a strain on your marriage, although he somehow seems oblivious to it. The only person to lend you a sympathetic ear about the whole thing is your brother-in-law, Leon.

He knows how much it bothers you, always giving you an empathetic smile once the drinking starts. You’ve noticed that he doesn’t drink as much when he’s around his brother—a fact that doesn’t go unnoticed by your husband.

“What happened with you? Y’used to drink like a fish,” he laughs, face red. A few of the cousins chuckle along with him.

Leon shrugs with an easy grin in place, “Just like to take it easy these days. Enjoy the finer things in life.”

He shoots you a glance, and you go hot all over. Later, after everyone either passes out where they sit or go crashes in one of the guest rooms, Leon’s the last one standing to help you carry your lush of a husband to bed.

Your heart races when Leon’s hand brushes across your lower back; it could be seen as an accident, just him trying to help his brother stagger along, but you know it’s more than that. Excitement thrills through your body, making you bite your bottom lip while you glance at Leon from under your lashes.

The first time anything illicit happened, it wasn’t even that bad. After helping your husband to bed, you sat on the couch with Leon and spilled your marital woes. He drew you in close, a sweet side hug, and the next thing you remember is grinding in his lap as you make-out on the couch.

Since that time, your physical relationship has tipped over into the taboo; it’s a very well-kept secret between the two of you. No one suspects a thing—least of all your husband. As much as you hate the drinking and the constant informal parties, Leon makes the headache bearable.

Dumping your husband on the bed, you turn him in his side to help prevent any choking if he happens to get sick later. Leon stands behind you, body heat a beacon against your back.

He runs a hand down your arm. “You’re so gorgeous.”

“Leon,” you whisper urgently, eyes glued to your husband’s snoring face. “Wait until we leave.”

“Why? He won’t hear a thing,” he presses himself completely against you, rocking his bulge against the swell of your ass. “Gonna fuck you right here, sweetheart. Break this bed in.”

Slick coats the gusset of your panties, fabric sticking to the lips of your cunt. Biting your lip, you let Leon lead you around the edge of the bed until he’s pushing you down onto your side.

He kisses you before slipping a hand under your dress to brush across your soaked slit.

“Fuck, so wet already. You want my cock?”

“Yes,” you whine. “Want it so bad.”

“Bet he doesn’t fuck you like you need, does he?” Leon goads, working your panties down and off your legs. “What a fucking loser.”

“Leon,” you gasp. “You shouldn’t say that about your brother.”

“Why? It’s the truth,” he cups your pussy, middle and ring finger parting your slick folds. “Too bad you married the wrong Kennedy, sweetheart.”

Whining softly, you roll your hips down into his hand, “Leon, please, just touch me.”

“I gotta finger this tight hole or ‘m not gonna fit,” he croons, fucking his fingers into your fluttering walls. “We both know this little pussy hasn’t had a cock this big.”

Keening in your throat, you ruck your dress up so Leon has easier access to the apex of your thighs.

“Look at that pretty hole,” he groans, fingers seeking out the spot at the front of your cunt that makes you squeeze down on the digits. “Married pussy’s the best.”

“D-don’t say that,” your thighs twitch, arousal burning hot in your belly.

“Why not?” He grins, and it makes your heart race. “It’s true. You’re married, and you’ve got the best pussy I’ve ever had.”

Cunt squeezing down on his fingers, you tangle your fingers in the sheets, shooting a quick glance to make sure your husband is still passed out.

“I can’t wait anymore,” Leon mutters to himself, fingers slipping from your wet heat with a wet schlick.

His middle and ring finger are shiny with slick as he pops them in his mouth with a groan. “Taste so good, but I’m too impatient to lick you til you scream.”

You gasp, watching with dilated eyes while he takes his shirt off and pulls his jeans and briefs down to his thighs. The tip of his fat cock drips precum down the shaft, making your mouth water for a taste.

He grips the base and shakes his dick at you. “Look at you drooling over it. Bet you’d love if I fucked that sweet little throat. Don’t worry, one of these days, I’ll have you choking and gagging all over my dick.”

You nod along with his words, clit throbbing like a second heartbeat and pussy dripping slick all over your thighs. He’s big. Much bigger than your husband’s dick; it sends a pulse through your cunt, knowing he’s about to fill you up and stretch you out on his cock.

Kneeling in front of you, he humps your pussy, thick cock, sliding through your slick folds and across your clit. Whimpering, you part your thighs even further.

“Please, Leon.”

His head presses against your hole but doesn’t sink in any further. He grips his cock and rocks the tip in and out of your cunt.

“Am I gonna fit in this tight little hole, baby?” He mocks, slapping the fat head of his dick down onto your wet pussy. “God, I’m gonna stretch this little pussy out.”

Whimpering, your eyes dart over to your husband passed out on his side of the bed. Your marital bed is pretty big—he always complained about needing the space—and now you’re appreciating that fact more than ever.

Leon clicks his tongue. “What a poor, frustrated little pussy. She’s crying she needs my cock so bad.”

Choking out a moan, your head thrashes back and forth against your pillow while Leon sinks his thick cock inch by inch in your snug pussy.

“Fucking hell, he’s not been giving it to you, has he?”

“Uh uh,” you hiccup a whine. “You’re too big. It hurts.”

“Aww,” he leans forward, bottoming out in your pussy with a grunt. “We’ll just have to get this hole used to being so full. Doesn’t that feel good?”

Your pussy flutters and pulses around his cock, slick coating his length. “Fuck, it’s so big.”

“Yeah, it is,” he chuckles before kissing your temple. “And your married pussy is a perfect fit. So snug and wet.”

Covering your mouth with your hand, you cry out against your palm as Leon begins to fuck you with hard, deep strokes. Eyes rolling back in your head and toes curling in pleasure, you rock your hips against his thrusts, pussy gripping his cock like a vice. His pelvis grinds against your clit every time he bottoms out in your cunt.

It’s so unfair how good this feels—knowing your husband’s right next to you as his brother pounds into your needy pussy. The pleasure crests higher and higher, body jostling with the movement so hard your tits bounce underneath your dress.

“I’m gonna cum inside you,” he whispers, grinning down at you, sweat darkening his fringe. “Cum all inside this cheating slutty pussy.”

“No!” Your voice cracks. “You can’t! What about m-my husband?”

“What about him?” Leon swivels his hips, the fat tip of his cock rubbing against your g-spot hard enough to make you squeal. “You’re fucking gagging to have me stuff you. You love my cock rawing this sweet little puss.”

“Noo,” you cling to his biceps, fingers digging into his skin.

“Fine,” he sighs. “I guess I’ll just pull out and—“

You tangle your hands in his hair and bring him closer for a dirty, tongue-filled kiss, pussy walls gripping his dick tightly.

“Please, don’t,” you whine. “Want your cock, want you to cum in me.”

“Fuck, baby, gotta keep quiet,” Leon laughs in your ear, dick slowly rutting in and out of your squelching cunt. “This fat pussy’s so loud, gonna get us caught.”

“Leon,” you whine, nails digging into his bare shoulders. He hisses in pleasure, thrusting harder into your clenching heat. “Feels so good, can’t help it.”

“Yeah? This tight pussy just can’t stop creaming my cock, can she?” He coos in your ear, lips nipping at your lobe. “Want me to put a baby in this cheating pussy?”

Eyes fluttering closed, you moan loudly, legs wrapping around his waist to lock behind his back. “Oh, please, want you to knock me up.”

“Hell yeah, I’ll breed this hot little pussy,” he groans, moving up onto outstretched arms. His hips roll against yours, cock plunging deeper into your dripping hole. “Gonna blow my load in your greedy cunt til it takes.”

Pulling out suddenly, he grips your hips to manhandle you over onto your front. He yanks your ass back, pressing his palm on your shoulders to push your head onto the pillow. His cock bullies back into your sopping wet pussy, the sound—plap plap plap—filling the bedroom.

You moan into your pillow, drool soaking the material as Leon rails you into the bed you share with your husband.

He slows his pace, dragging his dick halfway out before sinking back in. “Which cock’s better, mine or my brother’s?”

“Huh?” Your brain is mush at this point, your thoughts concentrating on cumming all over his cock while he creampies you.

“I said which cock is better,” he thrusts deep enough the tip bumps your cervix, making you moan weakly. “Mine or my brother’s?”

You stumbled over your words, not able to think when he reaches under your body to play with your clit.

“Better question,” he purrs into your ear, “which cock do you love? Hmm? The one that makes you cum? The one that’s gonna breed this fat pussy til she’s pregnant? Or…”

He pulls out, and you whine while he smacks his wet cock against your ass, “Some fucking cuck who passes out while his brother dicks down his wife?”

“What’s it gonna be, baby?” He teases the tip in and out, in and out, until you finally press your ass back against him.

“Yours, Leon,” you nearly sob when he fucks his cock back into your cunt. “Love your cock, s’the only one that makes me cum.”

He humps your ass, dick pounding at your drippy hole. “And? C’mon, what else?”

“A-and it’s the only cock I want to creampie my pussy,” you mewl, thrusting back against him. “Please, Leon, want you to cum in me. Cum in my cheating little pussy til you knock me up.”

“Goddamn,” he groans, fucking you so hard and fast the bed shakes. “Good fucking girl, gonna breed this needy pussy, gonna knock up my brother’s wife—fuck!”

He slips his hand around your hip and begins rubbing your slippery clit in quick circles.

“Cum for me, want this slutty pussy creaming my cock so I can fill her up,” he bites the shell of your ear. “Cum for me, so I can give you a baby.”

He slaps your clit with the flat of his fingers, and it pushes you over the edge, climax overtaking your body. You squirt, slick gushing from your hole to coat his pelvis and run down your thighs.

“Fucking hell, that’s it, baby, show me how much this pussy likes my cock,” Leon moans.

You shake and scream, burying your face in the pillow to muffle the noise. Fireworks explode behind your eyes while your pussy milks his cock over and over, dripping slick all over the two of you.

“That’s it, fuck, gonna breed you nice and deep like I promised,” Leon curses under his breath and thrusts a few more times against you before sinking to the hilt.

Hot, thick spurts of cum fill your fluttering walls until it spills out around his cock. Rutting against your ass, he grinds his cock in your pulsing cunt. After a few minutes, he takes in a deep breath and pulls out with a low groan. You lay there, panting heavily into your pillow, body completely spent.

He smacks the head of his cock against your sensitive and puffy cunt, “Since this naughty little pussy is just leaking out all my cum, guess I’ll have to stuff it again.”

#kofi commission #kofi #fic requests #brother in law!leon s kennedy #brother in law!leon #brother in law!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #fem!reader #sister in law!reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy smut

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grandline-fics · 1 month ago

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Unconscious Protector

DESCRIPTION: When you suddenly lose consciousness

WARNINGS: Descriptions of fainting and sleep walking

CHARACTERS: Sabo, Killer, Marco | Luffy, Zoro | Law, Sanji, Ace

WORDS: 2,247

A/N: Here's another part for this prompt that you guys voted for my belated birthday and 2k follower milestone event. I'll probably do another one of these with other characters at some stage but I hope you all enjoy this version with these characters.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

SABO

When Sabo needed a sparring partner there was no-one he sought out more than you. You both made it gruelling and challenging but also fun in equal measure. Your sparring sessions could last as long as you both could stand or until someone else came along in need of either of you for a meeting or a mission. Some people would have called your long bouts impressive which he’d agree with. But when they’d call it excessive, Sabo would disagree. Because of the busy schedules you both had and missions now taking you both longer and further away from the base it meant the sparring was really the only opportunity he had to make spending time with you plausible without fearing a rejection had he just asked you out like a normal person.

Sabo walked through the base, his eyes searching and bright as he looked for you. He slid to a halt and whipped his head to the side when he finally spotted you out of the corner of his eye. Excited he turned towards you and called out your name, grinning when you immediately turned and beamed when you smiled at him in greeting. When he approached, his grin hardened and he closed the distance, throwing his arm out which you managed to block with your forearm. Obviously he wasn’t going at full strength or speed and neither were you. At this point it could be compared to two normal people saying ‘hello’ but then again, you and Sabo’s relationship never could be defined as normal.

You never could say no to Sabo and his requests to train. It was how you could selfishly have alone time with him. Most of the time the sparring sessions were more fun than gruelling and you didn’t realise you’d been training until you felt the effects the next day. Now had you used your brain a little more instead of thinking about your crush on the Chief of Staff you should have declined this sparring session because you were already exhausted having just returned from a mission. You should have just done the smart thing and said 'maybe tomorrow’ or even 'maybe later’ instead you all but raced him to the training room. Now you were truly suffering for you lack of thought. Attacks you could have avoided with ease took greater focus than normal. You were still holding your own but now you could feel the extra weight on your limbs and noticed the sting in your eyes. The exhaustion was mounting but you still couldn’t bring yourself to stop sparring.

Sabo caught your wrist when your threw a very obvious attack at him. Quickly he spun to knock you to the floor but his confident smirk feel into a horrified expression as your body went slack and eyes fell closed, unconscious before you’d even hit the floor. Frightened for a moment he’d went too far even though he knew you’d both fought each other with more ferocity in the past, Sabo quickly checked you over, desperate to make sure he hadn’t actually hurt you. When he was assure by his own observation that you’d just fallen asleep he finally let out the breath he’d been holding and slowly lay down to settle beside you on the training mats. He wasn’t going to count this as a win in the long running and very balanced tally of wins and loses between your spars.

Instead he tucked a hand behind his head and closed his eyes. If anyone came by they’d just think the two of you were both relaxing together. Sabo also used the time to let his own body unwind, realising that maybe he was putting his own body under too much strain too, it would’t have been good if he fainted in the middle of training too. Silently he was grateful no one was around to see this and was able to enjoy spending the chance to rest peacefully alongside you. Now Sabo began to think of other ways he could spend time with you.

KILLER

The Victoria Punk was always loud and energetic. On days when the crew were navigating fierce storms and engaged in explosive battles, it followed the same code as it did when things were peaceful and fun; the louder the better. For two days straight you and the rest of the Kid Pirates sailed through one of the worst storms you’d encountered in a long while, yelling out to each other and shouting acknowledgement to Kid and Killer as you hurried through the rain and crashing lightning and rolling thunder that you’d heard their orders. Then came the explosions of canons and gun fire when a Marine ship appeared through the darkness and heavy veil of rain, launching their attack when they thought your crew’s attention was distracted by the weather but they soon learned the chaos was what you all thrived on and met the challenge with wide grins and drawn weapons.

The Marines engaged with you were relentless, you’d give them that much but ultimately they were overconfident and their weaknesses could be exploited by you and the others with ease. When the storm died, so did the fight, the Kid Pirates the victors over both encounters and your cheers filled the air as the night skies cleared. Now that the waters were calmed the only thing on all of your minds now was the thought of an all out celebration. With everyone’s duties completed, you all cleared room on the deck and dragged out the barrels and bottles of booze and anything that was or could loosely resemble something to sit on. As the ship’s doctor you had to tend to those hurt-with thankfully just minor injuries- from both the storm and fight and were last to find somewhere to sit. You grabbed your drink and scanned the area already loud and infectiously in good spirits. Your gaze zeroed in on a spot and you closed the distance, sitting down on the deck and settling your back against Killer’s leg.

Beneath his mask, Killer briefly glanced to see who was using him as an improvised support and couldn’t help but tense slightly to see it was you. You and Killer had a casual back and forth with each other. A flirty comment here, an affectionate touch there. Never anything heated, usually just the brush of fingers against the other when helping out in the ship’s duties or a brief placing of a hand on the other when either of you needed to get by in the usually bustling and hectic hallways and deck. Killer usually favoured his hand on your lower back and you favoured your hand on his upper arm. For you to settle against him shouldn’t have been a surprise or anything new by comparison but still Killer couldn’t help but be aware of your presence. Even while you were talking away to Wire and he joked with Killer it was hard to fully ignore how effortlessly comfortable it was.

Further into the night, you shifted slightly to get more comfortable, lounging back instead of just sitting, and lay your head back while you continued the conversations. The second you adjusted though, Killer’s hand instinctively settled against the back of your head; keeping you in your comfortable position and began to absently play with your hair. Kid faltered mid-sentence with his second-in command to glance briefly down to see you had already all but melted into Killer’s touch, your eyes growing heavier as you tried to focus on your conversation. Unfortunately in a matter of seconds you were out like a light and your nearly empty mug dropped with a dull thunk which caught Killer’s attention your way.

Across the deck two other crew members burst out into loud laughter at their own conversation causing you you stir slightly. Swiftly Killer grabbed an empty bottle and threw it at their feet with precision that ensured they wouldn’t get hurt but definitely caught their attention. Nervously they looked towards their vice-captain who rose a finger to his mask in a clear signal to shush. Effectively everyone on board lowered their voices to a more respectable level which for anyone else would still be pretty loud but so long as you continued to sleep soundly, your unintentional guard dog of the night was content.

MARCO

Everything was calm on the Moby Dick as it usually was. As an Emperor’s ship as noticeable as his, practically everyone with any sense in their skulls left Whitebeard well enough alone. Night watches were merely a formality and mostly to keep an eye out in case a freak storm hit or another Emperor felt inclined to cause trouble out of boredom. Marco used the quiet of night to go over his medical stock and see to any last minute tasks that he couldn’t get to when the ship was rowdy in the day. In the middle of writing his list of what medicines and ingredients he needed to replenish, Marco stifled a small yawn.

Not wanting to stop and leave the remainder of his duty for another night he decided instead to pause and go to the ship’s kitchen. As much as he tried to avoid drinking coffee after a certain time of the day he knew the caffeine would help. When he stepped out onto the deck he heard a yelp from above and lazily glanced up to see one of the younger and newer additions to the crew peer out over the top of the crow’s nest. They let out a shaky sigh of relief to see it was just Marco staring up at them blankly. “What’s wrong with you? You look like you've seen a ghost-yoi.”

“I did!” The crewmate hissed, casting a nervous glance out onto the large ship’s deck. Marco tilted his head curiously and looked around the darkened deck. The moon was completely shrouded in cloud so the lack of light and chill in the air could be eerie to some, easy to let the mind play tricks on itself at this hour especially when alone. The pirate in the Crow’s Nest could feel Marco’s skepticism and bristled defensively. “I know what I saw! You have the powers of a mythical creature, you can't tell me ghosts don’t exist!”

“Didn’t say they didn’t” Marco chuckled with a lazy shrug. He’d seen enough strange and crazy things on these seas to encourage an open mind even after all of these years. Still though, a ghost on the ship was a new one. Holding back a yawn, Marco stretched his arms out and smiled calmly. “I’ll take a look around. If you see the ghost, just call okay?”

Without waiting for the response, Marco continued towards the kitchen, pausing by the door when he heard a faint creak against the floorboards. Slowly Marco looked behind him and around the corner seeing there was no-one there. Letting out a small chuckle, he shook his head and pressed inside only to suppress the curse in his throat and hold back the urge to jump in shock when the outline of a person was standing in the corner of kitchen. Flicking on the light Marco let out a small breath to see that it was you. “You’re playing the long game waiting in here and trying to scare someone-yoi.“ He teased lightly only to become concerned when you didn’t respond. Instead you remained in the corner. “Hey, you okay?”

Marco approached slowly and only saw now that you were asleep, eyes heavy lidded as you stared emptily at the wall. Now he saw you were sleep walking. Knowing better than to wake you, Marco approached carefully and gently set his hand against your wrist, lightly coaxing you to turn.

“Time for bed.” He instructed softly, smiling when you seemed to react enough to his words. Slowly you walked towards the door and Marco could see now why your movements could have been mistaken for a ghost on board. Marco’s smile twitched when you made the wrong turn after leaving the kitchen, needing him to softly redirect you with another subtle touch which thankfully set you on the right route. “There we go.”

For the entirety of the confusing, winding and slow paced journey you took through the ship Marco remained your vigilant protector. In your sleep induced state you seemed determined to veer in every wrong direction, even getting close to walking straight into one of the canons and potentially hurting yourself which you would have had Marco not been there to stop you. Finally he managed to help you into your sleeping quarters and assisted you into your bed, your body relaxing instantly. Exhausted Marco rubbed his eyes and headed straight for his own bed, managing to catch a couple hours sleep before the sun rose.

As expected you had no memory of your sleepwalking adventure but approached him at breakfast with a bright smile. “Wanna hear what I dreamt about last night?”

“This should be good.” Marco grinned, unable to be in a low mood when you smiled at him like that.

“Dreamt I was lost in a maze.” You began. “No matter which way I went I just couldn’t get out. Next thing I knew, you were there and rescued me. Guess I can always count on you to help me out.” At that Marco’s smile grew.

“Always.”

——————————————-

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monster-disaster · 3 months ago

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[wolf-shifter] Hiro

🎃💋 Monster Fucktober Week on my Patreon 🔞🎃

wolf-shifter!Hiro x human!Reader Good to know: shower sex in the gym, rut

Summary: Hiro needs your help.

Hiro's phone chimes with a new notification in his pocket. He can feel the buzz of the device on his thigh through the thin fabric of his sweatpants. The sound is high-pitched and almost drowned out by the bustle of the gym. The metallic clatter and the music from the speakers mingle with the sounds of others. Quiet conversations and grunts reach his ears, but his attention is elsewhere. Each ragged breath he takes makes his chest rise and fall in a steady rhythm. He focuses on his grip, feeling the cool metal press into his palms, grounding him to the bench. He stares at the white ceiling above him. The bright lights irritate his eyes, though he is used to it by now. His muscles are taut and rigid as he holds his arms in mid-air. His fingers tighten further around the metal bar, causing the veins to bulge under his skin.

"Need help?" his friend asks above him, standing a few inches away to catch the barbell if needed. He reaches out slightly but does nothing more without Hiro's permission.

"I'm fine," Hiro replies with a deep breath. His chest expands, and he spreads his legs a little to brace himself more securely. Sweat glistens on his temple and his hair clings to his forehead in damp strands.

After three more lifts, he pushes the weights higher with a low grunt to put the weights back on the rack. His muscles strain with the effort. The tension in his arms eases, and he lets his palms fall back onto his chest with a relieved sigh.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Hiro hums, nodding and trying to catch his breath. "Thanks."

When the man leaves to do his own thing, Hiro remains lying on the bench for a few seconds, letting the burn of his muscles gradually subside before pulling himself into a sitting position. He grabs his towel from the ground in the process, dabbing it over his face and neck to wipe away the sweat while stretching his neck to relax the tension in his body.

His gaze sweeps the room, checking to see if anyone is waiting for his spot. The gym is in full swing around him. It's loud and busy. It's no surprise that Hiro prefers coming here early in the morning when it's quieter and less crowded. However, his approaching rut makes it increasingly difficult for him to leave his home, crawling at the back of his mind.

The LED lights cast a vibrant glow across the space, gleaming on the rows of equipment. The treadmills, all new and shiny, hum steadily, their rhythmic whirring blending seamlessly with the clanking of weights being lifted and dropped nearby. The tall walls are covered with mirrors, doubling the brightness and amplifying the sense of space. People gaze intently at their own reflections, focusing on their forms and movements.

Hiro glances at his own reflection, too. He sits on the bench, hunched and breathing heavily. His shirt clings to his body like a second skin. Sweat glistens on his forehead, his hair is damp.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Hiro unlocks the screen to find a new message notification from Charm. Charm is a dating app designed to help humans and monsters connect with each other. Right now, it is supposed to help the wolf-shifter find a partner for his upcoming rut. So far, he hasn't had much success with it, though.

Most of his matches are either too horny or overly fixated on the idea of having sex with a wolf-shifter for a whole week. Their fetishizing is weird and concerning. On the other end of the spectrum, some matches seem to be looking for something far more than he is willing to give; dates, flowers, and constant text messages. It isn't what he's looking for right now. He isn't in search of a girlfriend; he just wants someone who can be his partner for a week, helping and having fun without being too perverted or too serious about it.

He taps on the small icon to open the message with a bit of frustration swelling in his chest. A large part of him has already given up on finding someone online. He read through countless profiles and chatted with numerous matches, but none of them met his needs. It's not like he has high expectations. Don't be a pervert, and don't imagine a family and a happily ever after a few texts. Why is it so hard? It shouldn't be.

The gym's noise fades into the background as he focuses on the screen, but whatever hope he had a moment ago vanishes quickly. The woman on the other end of the chat ghosted him once, almost two weeks ago.

His thumb hovers above the keyboard, undecided if he should write back or leave it as it is. A 'Hi' can't hurt, but to be honest, he is not in the mood to get to know her better. Or at least enough to spend a week with her. And what if she stops responding again? Wasted time and energy. With his approaching rut, he can't afford any of it.

"Hiro?" A soft voice pulls him out of his thoughts.

"Hm?" he hums, needing a second to get back to reality. "Yes?"

"Are you okay?" you ask with a gentle smile, still watching him worriedly.

"Oh," he gasps, jumping up from the bench. The wolf-shifter isn't sure how long he sat there, but it seems like it was enough time to make you concerned. "I'm fine."

"I can bring you some water if you need it," you offer, still not believing him.

"You are sweet." You really are. "But I'm fine. Thank you."

Your gaze rakes over the tall wolf-shifter once again for an entirely different reason than making sure he doesn't need your help. Your eyes linger on the width of his shoulders and the hard cords of his muscles underneath the white t-shirt he wears. The thin fabric clings to his body with sweat.

Of course, the wandering of your eyes doesn't escape Hiro's attention. A smug smirk pulls on the corner of his lips, but he tries to suppress it when you look up at his face again.

"Fine, then," you tell him. "You know where to find me if you need me."

With his rut around the corner, Hiro finds it more and more difficult to leave his home. The only reason he is willing to go to the gym is because his small apartment in the middle of Meriad doesn't give him enough space to drain the energy that buzzes under his skin, deep within his tense muscles. He needs something to do so he doesn't go insane, especially since his every attempt to find someone on Charm hits walls and barriers. Every suitable match lives far away from the city, or can't take time off from work. The others... well, the others are still too serious or too bizarre for his taste.

So his frustration just grows and grows with each passing failed match and chat that leads nowhere.

Of course, there is nothing wrong with going through a rut or heat without a partner, but it definitely makes it easier. The wolf-shifter wishes for something more than the solitude of his apartment and the company of his hand.

When Hiro visits the gym again late at night, he is already sweaty. A part of him wants to turn around and leave the moment he steps through the entrance, but he knows if he doesn't tire himself out, he will pace up and down in his flat all night.

The wide glass door barely falls shut, and your voice immediately reaches his ears.

"Hiro," you smile at him. Your lips glint with light pink lipstick. "It's good to see you."

"I didn't think you would be here," the wolf-shifter says, approaching the reception. Your presence is a pleasant surprise.

You shrug. "They pay double for nightshifts."

His gaze swipes over the gym behind you with silvery, gleaming equipment. The music is quiet, and he can see the matching video clip on the screen hanging from the wall at the back. The place is almost empty, with a few orcs at the weights, doing their own thing without a word.

As if you read his thoughts, you shrug again with a smile when he looks at you. "It's still early for our nightly members."

And you are right. The gym soon fills with humans and monsters who prefer doing their workout at night for whatever reason. The place gets loud with the familiar clangs and thuds of the weights with the treadmills' monotonous whirring in the background. It's busier than he thought it would but still better than the afternoon he came here a week ago. The wolf-shifter has enough space to be alone with his own thoughts and breathe the cool air of the air conditioner instead of the others' scent and sweat. With his rut so close, his senses are even sharper than usual. Hero's jaw clenches every now and again when the reflection of the lights in the mirror gets too much for his sensitive eyes.

He works for long hours, shifting from equipment to equipment until his limbs shake and his muscles burn. Sweat glistens on his skin, and his clothes cling to his body stubbornly.

"Hiro?" Your voice breaks through his concentration.

"Hm?" he exhales, looking at you while still running on the treadmill. The machine is loud, and his steps are louder.

"We are... closing soon," you tell him with a bit of guilt in your voice. "If you want to take a shower, I can wait for a while longer."

His eyes swipe over the place, surprised by the fact that only you and him are left in the gym. "Oh."

"Yeah," you nod, following his gaze over the rows of empty equipment. "You were busy all night."

And yet, after all these workouts, he still feels frustration and energy surging through his muscles, buzzing beneath his skin. His bones are aching, too.

His rut is close. Too close.

"It's better if I go, then," he stops the machine underneath him, jumping onto the ground easily. "I'm sorry if I caused you trouble."

You grin, shaking your head. "No trouble at all."

His eyes linger on the curve of your lips for a second before forcing his attention away from your face. You have pretty eyes, too. And you are always so kind and polite to everyone.

"I will be quick," he nods to the men's changing room.

"Take your time."

Turning his head left and right, stretching his neck to relax his muscles, he removes his clothes before stepping under the shower. Truth be told, being alone in the showers is much better than when the place is full of loud and sweaty males. Maybe he should do this more often, especially when you take the night shift. You are always so happy and helpful. The image of you flashes across his eyelids when he tilts his head back, letting the water wash over his face, feeling it flow through his hair and trickle down his back. You always wear tight jeans and an even tighter T-shirt with the gym's logo on it. The water cascades down his body, and each droplet follows the hard lines of his rigid muscles. His bones ache and throb, urging him to get rid of this maddening tension in his body.

The change happens quickly and silently. His body starts to tingle, punching a relieved sigh out of his expanding chest as the pleasant feeling ripples through his skin in waves. His muscles and bones grow, redefining his body entirely. His limbs lengthen, and his fingers and toes stretch into sharp claws. Soon, light gray fur covers his new body, soaked by the water still falling from the showerhead above. The transformation is natural and feels much better than working hours upon hours in the gym, fighting his urges.

Finally, his face changes into a muzzle, his ears twitch at the top of his head. His eyes glow with something new and feral, and his long, thick canines glint under the LED lights.

Hiro stands tall and powerful under the shower, his fur damp and his posture hunched so he doesn't hit his head on the ceiling. He can feel himself relax finally, his muscles losing their tension. A sense of freedom surges through him, thrill coursing in his veins.

Well, one problem is out of the way, but he can't avoid the other one much longer.

"Hiro?" The soft tilt of your voice sends shivers down his spine as you search for him at the lockers.

"I'm here," he grunts, still leaning against the wall while the stream massages his wide shoulders.

"Oh," you reply. "Well, you left your phone on the treadmill, I put it next to your bag."

"No!" He snaps, then changes his mind immediately. "I mean, thanks."

A few seconds of silence follow his words before you speak. "Are you okay in there?"

It's the middle of the night. You should be at home by now, and you are still so kind and patient.

Always so helpful.

Hiro's cock jerks at the thought.

"Ugh," he clears his throat. It sounds like a growl. "Can you come here?"

"Are you sure?" you ask back, unsure.

"Yeah," he replies. "I really need your help."

"Oh, okay."

By the time you reach the entrance of the showers, Hiro pushes himself away from the wall to face you. He can clearly see the change in your expression as your eyes fall on him. He fills the narrow stall with a heaving chest and bulging muscles. Your eyes wander down his wolf form, lingering here and there and stopping between his thick thighs. His cock is long and heavy, bobbing up and down with every breath he takes as he silently watches you, waiting for your reaction.

Your throat is tight when you break the silence. "Why do you need me?" You ask, forcing yourself to look up at his face. You can see his nose moving as he scents the air. Underneath the warm steam of the shower, he can smell you. You are sweet and light with a hint of spice he never felt before. It makes his cock throb, and he finds pride in how you gasp at the obvious twitch of his length.

"Come closer," he hums between his sharp teeth. He has to force himself to soften his voice to not frighten you. "I won't hurt you," he adds. "I promise."

The lipstick still glistens on your lips as your mouth opens to say something.

"Help me, Y/N," he continues. "I need your help, sweet girl. It hurts so much."

A smug half-smirk pulls on the corner of his large mouth when you make a few tentative steps towards him. Every fiber in him demands to grab you and have his way with your warm, pliant body. He doesn't lose his mind entirely, though. He has to be careful with you.

"Good girl," he hums with satisfaction when you get close enough so he can wrap his large hand around your arm. His claw grazes over your soft skin, making you shiver with anticipation.

"Hiro," you breathe out his name, but you are not even sure what you want to tell him. He is so close and so big. He towers over you easily, and he smells like musk and wet fur.

This close to him, the cascading water reaches you, too, soaking your clothes within a few seconds.

"I should have told you to get rid of these," he says without any regret in his voice. He tugs on the hem of your shirt before moving his hand up your upper body. His thumb rubs over one of your nipples, teasing the small bud through your t-shirt and bra. The air catches in your throat at the light feeling.

"Y/N," Hiro says your name, making you look up at him. His large canines are barely a few inches away from your face. "Always so sweet and helpful, aren't you?"

You nod, a bit confused. Of course, you are, why wouldn't you? You love your job, and it pays the bills.

Hiro smirks at your obliviousness. "Sweet girl," he says, cupping your jaw. You feel so small and delicate between his fingers. "Do you want to be a doll and help me then? Help poor Hiro out?"

Looking at the tall, powerful wolf, you have a lot of things in mind about him, but poor is not one of them. You nod anyway, and he grins.

"Good girl," he hums with approval as he leans closer to press a searing kiss against your lips. It's strange at first but not less arousing. It's more teeth and tongue than anything.

"Fuck, doll," he growls. "You taste so good." Saliva drips down his black, thin lips as he speaks. "I'm curious if you taste this good elsewhere too."

You forget how to breathe as you stare at him with shock.

The male chuckles. "Don't look at me like that, Y/N, it just makes me want to eat you more."

"Please," your plea punches out of your chest with a ragged inhale.

Hiro grins, showing you his sharp teeth in the process. "Take off your clothes, sweet girl, let me see all of you."

You have some difficulty with your clothes, they cling to your body like a second skin, but Hero does nothing to help you. He finds amusement in your struggle, making you tremble with a bit of embarrassment under his heavy gaze.

Your wet clothes land heavily on the ground, leaving you naked and vulnerable in front of him. His eyes rake over your body with hunger in his eyes while licking his chops.

"Just as I thought," he breaks the silence. "You are sweet in every way possible."

You can't help but smile at his praise. "Oh."

"Hm?" he asks. "Do you like it, sweet girl? Me praising you?"

You nod. Yeah, they definitely feel good, making your thighs rub together to give yourself some friction. Your pussy throbs with arousal ever since you first saw his cock jutting out from his body.

"Be a good girl and use your words."

"Yes."

"Good," he smirks. "Let me get your reward for always being a doll for me."

Before you can say anything, he is on his knees in front of you. He manhandles you easily, grabbing your thighs and pushing you against the wall. A high squeal escapes your lips when he lifts you up and adjusts your legs over his shoulders. Your nails scratch over the white tiles, but you can't find anything to grab onto. The only things keeping you upward are the wall behind you and the wolf breathing close to your exposed pussy.

"Hiro!" His name bursts out of you like a scream when he pushes his nuzzle against you. His nose nudges your clit, and his wide, wet tongue laps a warm path over your folds. He tastes you thoroughly, humming and grunting into your pussy. The vibration of his voice ripples through your spine, making your hips jerk and grind into his mouth.

Within a minute, you forget your position on his shoulders as your fingers rake over the soft fur at the top of his head. You pull on the roots, and the shifter growls and snarls while still feasting on your drenched pussy. He laps up your wetness, nudging your clit with every move of his large head.

The world spins around you over and over again as you hold onto the male between your legs. Every prod and lick of his tongue pushes you closer to the edge while your muscles turn to liquid, and you can do nothing but grind down on him, chasing your climax. Your moans echo off the shower walls, loud and high as Hiro eats you out. Your hesitancy is long forgotten since you can't make your brain work anymore. The only thing floating in your mind is the wolf-shifter's name and nothing else.

The air gets stuck in your lungs when Hiro's tongue finds your hole, pushing and teasing your entrance. The warm, wet muscle slips inside you easily at the same time you cry out his name again. The rough texture of his tongue rubs over your walls, reaching every spongy spot that sends you spiraling.

"Fuckfuckfuck," you pant with half-closed eyes. Your pussy flutters around his tongue, begging for more as you get closer to your high. Your muscles twitch and tense, and the burning coil bursts in your stomach with a searing sensation. It surges through your veins and turns your body limp and helpless. The sound of Hiro slurping up on your juices rings in your ears, almost drowned out by the rapid beat of your own heart.

You barely notice under the thick haze of your mind when Hiro puts you down and holds you close against his large body. Without his arms around you, you are sure you would collapse. His damp fur clings to your skin, and his musky, earthy scent fills your nostrils as you still gasp for air.

"Are you okay, doll?" he asks after a while, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You can barely understand him because of the growl escaping his chest the whole time. It reverberates in your bones, shivering and rattling.

You hum, not knowing how to form words.

"Are you ready for more?" he asks with a hint of impatience in his voice while his clawed hands move up and down on your back, caressing your bare skin to soften his words.

You can't blame him, though. His cock is hard and heavy between his thick, hairy thighs. It leaks with pre-cum and bobs with every small movement Hiro makes.

"I still need your help, sweetheart," he continues, nudging your head softly with his muzzle. His breath is warm at the side of your face. "And you are the only one who can help me."

Straightening your posture, you lean away from him a little, just enough to look at him and nod. You are here to help him, you remind yourself.

"What do you need me to do?"

Hiro doesn't need more.

"Good girl," he grunts. "My good girl."

Before you know it, you are kneeling on the ground, ass up in the air, with the wolf behind you. The white, wet tiles are warm under your cheeks and palms, with the shower still cascading down on your pair. A helpless sound escapes your parted lips at the sudden change of position, but you do nothing against it. Your senses are too busy with the feeling of Hiro shifting closer until you can feel his fur against your bare skin and his erection on your pussy, sliding across your puffy folds. He is thick and heavy, and your body tenses for several seconds.

"Hiro-" you want to say, but the shifter just pats your hips.

"It's okay," he grunts. "Just take a deep breath, doll."

Deep breath, you think. It seems impossible.

How could you do anything when you can feel him moving behind you and soon, the blunt tip of his cock prods at your entrance.

"S-slow," you gasp with your heart beating in your throat.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he hums mindlessly, too busy groping the flesh of your ass to really pay attention to your words.

The press of the head of his cock at your entrance punches a high, mewling sound out of your chest. By the time he forces the first few inches inside you, you are breathless and delirious. Pain and pleasure throb in your lower body, but you do nothing to stop him. You don't want him to stop. Your drenched pussy stretches and tenses around his thick cock, and your legs go numb as you keep your position in front of him. He rocks in and out of you, going deeper into you every time without giving you at least a moment to get used to his size. With a slack jaw and half-closed eyes, you tremble around him while spreading your legs even more in hopes of making your job easier.

It does nothing, though.

"Fuck," the male moans behind you breathlessly, watching his thick length disappear into your wet, tight channel. You hug around his cock like a glove, milking him with every shiver of your overwhelmed body.

"Just like that," he snarls. "So good. You are helping me so much, doll."

His approaching orgasm blurs his vision every now and again, and he needs to bite onto his tongue to keep himself going for a while longer. Cumming so soon would be embarrassing for him, even though the knot at the base of his cock is already swollen.

"Really?" You pant. The hope in your voice that you are doing a good job is humiliating, but none of you care about it.

"Yes," he snarls, grabbing your hips bruisingly tight to pull you against his groin. A high, mewling sound escapes your lips, and your back arches at the sudden, invading feeling. Your tits press against the tiles, and your fingers are sore from the force you try to grip onto the smooth, hard surface.

A surprised, airy gasp wheezes out of your lips when he starts fucking into you roughly, grinding his cock deeper and deeper into your clenching hole. Every drag and press of his erection ripples through your nerves, making your muscles twitch and jerk while you try to keep yourself in position in front of the shifter. He pushes you beyond your limits with every ruthless thrust while you wail and sob, with your vision blurring at the overwhelming sensation. Every time his knot presses against your entrance, you tense and forget how to breathe, but Hiro doesn't try to force more into you, and it's probably a good decision. Even though the gym is closed, you still don't want to get tied together with him in the showers.

His orgasm almost pushes the ground out from under him, making him lean above you while still squeezing your hips in his large, paw-like hands. He empties himself inside you with a feral snarl while you sob and shake, with your own climax rocking through your body. Your blood turns to molten lava as your vision blurs while you cry like a wounded animal with his cock pulsing inside of your clenching pussy. You feel every rope of his cum, and your walls milk him for more.

"That's it," the wolf growls, grinding his hips against your ass roughly and convulsively. His spine is rigid, and his face is contorted into a threatening snarl.

For a long moment, he holds you tight with your greedy cunt squeezing his spent cock while his seed drips down between your legs and washes away into the drain under the water, still cascading down on your bodies.

When he lets you go, you spread out on the floor while Hiro leans against the wall with his cock softening between his thick, hairy thighs.

"How are you?" Your barely audible question surprises him. "Did I help?"

A light, gentle smile pulls on his lips as his head clears up a little. "Yeah, sweetheart," he replies. "You did."

"Good," you hum, already half-asleep.

"Come on," he says, scooping you up in his arms when he wins back his strength and the control over his body. "I can't let you stay here."

"Where are we going?" you ask him, resting your face on his chest. His fur is soaked under your skin.

"Home," Hero replies. "I need more of your help, doll."

"Oh, okay."

#monster romance #monster x human #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #teratophillia #monster fucker #monster smut #terat0philliac #werewolf x reader #werewolf smut #werewolf boyfriend #werewolf x human #werewolf x you #monster x you #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #meriad

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noearchives · 11 months ago

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sober me up

(what happens when the one piece boys are drunk?)

characters: portgas d. ace, trafalgar d. water law, sanji.

note: personally i've never been drunk enough to the point where i lose my mind or anything like that ... so this is just based off of my imagination and stuff i see in movies ;;

cw/ tags: gender neutral reader, mentions of alcohol, unestablished relationship, mutual pining.

portgas d. ace

"woah,” ace whispers, head tilted to one side as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes, saying your name in the same way he did when he met you for the first time.“is that really you?”

you're not sure if he’s putting up an act to flirt, or if he’s actually so drunk to the point where he can’t tell his imagination from reality. not knowing how to reply, you hand him a glass of water in a fluster in hopes that he’ll sober up, and he downs the entire thing in one go, mistaking it for liquor.

“wow,” ace says again, awestruck. it’s like his eyes are put in a spell to look at nothing else but you. his reaches for your face, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. nonsense runs off his tongue as he stumbles deep into your gaze in spirals. “you're so pretty i could kiss you.”

he pauses. “can i?”

fuck it, you think. he’s drunk out of his mind, you're tipsy enough to use it as an excuse. it won't hurt if you kissed your best friend who you’ve been pining for since the dawn of time when he won't even remember anything the day after, right?

so you agree to his request, and ace wastes no time with how quickly he slides his tongue into your mouth just after two seconds of his lips meeting yours— it’s like he doesn't want you to breathe.

when he finally lets go of you, you gasp like a fish out of water while he looks at you stupidly. his mind is filled with you, you, you. one kiss isn't enough to satisfy him— he’s been dreaming of this for months, afterall. with both hands on either side of your face, he makes a bold statement once again.

“let’s do that again.”

trafalgar d. water law

law doesn't drink much, but he can't say no to his crew when they offer. initially, he planned to stay sober for the rest of the night to look after all of you, but as shachi and penguin continue to pour him drink after drink, his head grows heavier with every sip of liquor.

he stays quiet even when he’s drunk. no bold confessions, no impulsive acts, nothing. he just watches his crew drink themselves stupid, the faintest hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

with the loud hustle of the bar and the deafening laughter of your crewmates, it’s hard to notice how intoxicated law has become until you feel a foreign weight on your shoulder. a white fur hat lands on your lap, and you only realise your captain’s resting his head on you with his eyes closed then.

“captain?” you say. your heart’s beating out of your chest. “captain, you're drunk.”

“i know.” he mumbles in reply, looking silly with his cheek squished against your shoulder.

“let me get you some water.” you try to move out of your seat, but your body doesn't budge. law’s arm holds you down firmly, and you feel the skin under his touch tingle. “captain," you say again, weaker this time. you're not sure if your lungs are working properly with how he's rendered you breathless. "you've gotta let me go," you say, betraying your heart.

"no," law mumbles against you. his hold on you tightens, and you swear he's nuzzling into your neck.

at that point, you decide that he's had one too many and that he needs to be sobered up or else he'd be in a sour mood the morning after. you awkwardly prop his arm on your shoulders as you drag him back to the polar tang with the knowing gazes of your crewmates on your backs, your captain's hat in your hand as you strain to support his weight.

"ah, young love." penguin sighs.

sanji

being an absolute lightweight, sanji's already swaying with his tie off and a few buttons undone after two shots.

"oh, my love." he sing-songs. my love? you raise an eyebrow at the nickname. "the way you look at me makes my stomach flip. your eyes are brighter than the stars, and the way you say my name tugs at my heartstrings. would you make a poor man like me happy by just looking his way?" he rambles, freestyling a verbal love letter for you right then and there. you've heard him do the same for robin and nami, but never for you. (until now, of course.)

the crew's swordsman physically cringes in second-hand embarrassment. "curly, do all of us a favor and shut that mouth of yours."

miraculously, sanji doesn't retort like he usually does. instead, he takes your hand in his as he continues his weird love poem. "if only this wasn't a dream, and i had the courage to confess my love for you in the real world. alas!"

... and he starts crying. actual tears rolling down his cheeks and everything. "but i know you would never love a pathetic man like me!" he sobs into your lap, kneeling before you as your ship's navigator averts her gaze out of embarrassment, grumbling about how her efforts of keeping his secret are wasted.

though ridiculously stupid, his confession made your heart stop. after all this time, it turns out that he's equally as smitten as you are when you thought his heart belonged to someone else. (it's hard not to assume with the way he behaves around good-looking women.)

"why did nobody tell me...?" you ask, looking around as the strawhats look away with a supressed grin.

"because he said he'll kick our asses if any of us said anything. geez, both of you are so stupid. can't you see the way he makes those disgusting heart eyes at you every time you pass by?" the swordsman grumbles.

sanji's arms are still tightly wrapped around your waist after he's done with his improv love poem. "you're so warm, even in my dreams..." he mumbles. it seems like he still hasn't realized this isn't a dream.

the two of you are going to have a looooong talk when he sobers up, you're sure.

#one piece x reader #law x reader #portgas d ace #portgas d ace x reader #sanji x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law #sanji #one piece fluff #one piece x reader fluff

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alittlebitofsainz · 9 months ago

Text

- just don’t want your friends to see -

prompt: “said you needed me, wanted to be with me, just don’t want your friends to see”

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: the pressure of keeping the relationship a secret is getting to you both. is he ashamed of you? (everyone needs a little soft and reassuring lando in their lives every now and then)

a/n: can be considered a lil’ part two to told her you were just a friend. lyrics from ‘you to you’ by maisie peters :)

masterlist | the spotify wrapped collection

“hey, you guys, hope you haven’t been waiting long!”

your head turned to follow the sound of the voice, seeing max and his girlfriend pietra approaching, a few minutes late for lunch. you noticed lando doing the same, his fingers immediately disentangling from your own as soon as he spotted them, your hand feeling empty without his clasped around it as he took a step away from you. you knew you should be used to it by now, you’d both agreed that this was for the best, keeping your relationship in the shadows, locked behind closed doors. I want this relationship to be just ours, he’d said. it had sounded nice at the time, poetic, even, and you’d agreed, maybe a little too eagerly. but as you sat at lunch with max and pietra, perched awkwardly on the edge of your seat so as not to seem too close to lando, listening to him laugh off questions about his romantic life and saying he hadn’t really met anyone special yet - you had to admit that it stung. it stung the same way it did every time, and you found yourself unnaturally quiet throughout the meal, eyes flicking between person to person as the conversation continued around you.

if you’d thought it had gone unnoticed by lando, you thought wrong.

“baby, everything okay?”

even the pet name stung, the façade of ‘friendship’ falling by the wayside as soon as you made it back to lando’s apartment. just the two of you, a safe space, away from prying eyes and listening ears. you could be in a relationship again, having put it on pause for the time you were out in public.

you looked up, trying to plaster a fake smile across your face, the expression faltering slightly at the edges.

“yeah, fine. just tired, that’s all.” came your reply. but lando wasn’t stupid, and he wasn’t blind, either. you tried to escape through to the kitchen, but he wasn’t having any of that.

“y/n, I know you. I can tell you’re not fine. talk to me, please.”

the gentleness of his voice coaxed you to be honest, letting out a sigh as you turned to lean against the kitchen counter, facing him. you couldn’t quite meet his eyes, almost embarrassed. you’d both agreed on this - why were you suddenly feeling so upset about it all? you knew lando loved you, appreciated you, but something about the way he acted when the two of you were out in public, around colleagues, around friends, even, that just got to you.

“are you embarrassed of me?”

the words left your mouth before filtering through your brain first, and you regretted them immediately; the way lando’s face fell, pain and guilt etched across his features - you swore you would never forget it, and you never wanted to see it again.

“no, no. fuck, y/n, I could never be embarrassed of you.” his voice was strained as he took several paces towards you across the kitchen, casting a cautious gaze over you as he tried to decide whether to give you space or comfort. you felt emotions bubble up inside you, ones you’d been trying to keep hidden for months, for the sake of your relationship. you’d always worried that if you caused a fuss or spoke about your emotions in any way, it would push lando away. why would he want someone who was such a problem when he could have pretty much anyone he wanted? it was irrational and you knew it, but keeping it inside for so long, unable to talk to anyone about it…? well, it had festered in your mind until it had taken over.

“I just feel like that’s why you don’t wanna tell your friends about me…” you eventually said, voice coming out as more of a whimper than you’d intended. lando closed the remaining space between you, hesitating for split second before taking your hands in his, his eyes searching yours imploringly.

“baby, I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel like that.” his voice was firm, filled with conviction and sincerity, but also tinged with a hint of emotion, upset that he’d ever hurt the person in his life that he cared the most about, “I swear, I never meant to. I’m so sorry.”

“it’s just difficult.” you murmured in reply, relishing the feeling of your hands being in his once again as you dropped your gaze down to look at them. “I feel like I’m always acting in public, like I can’t relax. and I can’t even talk to anyone about it.”

“I wish you’d talk to me.” lando’s voice was equally as quiet as yours, his tone so genuine that you couldn’t help but relax just a little, fears of pushing him away by being too honest dissipating by the second. he reached a hand up to cup your cheek, and it was only when he brushed a thumb across your skin to wipe away a tear that you realised you’d started crying.

“really?” you blinked up at him with wide, watery eyes. “I thought you wouldn’t wanna hear about it.”

he took your face in both hands, eyebrows curved up into a soft frown. “why would you think that? is it… is it something I said? something I did?” you could tell he meant it genuinely, but it made you realise just how irrational you were being. nothing lando had ever said or done had given you any indication that he wouldn’t want to hear your thoughts, your concerns, the things that made you upset. you were still navigating things, but you were beginning to realise that this was someone who you could really open up to. someone who cared about you. you shook your head, brushing away your own tears with the palm of your hand, letting out a wet chuckle.

“no, no. you didn’t do anything wrong. I was just being stupid.” you admitted, but now it was lando’s turn to shake his head.

“you weren’t being stupid.” he murmured, dropping his hands from your face and instead wrapping them around your waist, drawing you into his chest as he placed delicate kisses to the top of your head. “nothing you feel is stupid. it’s not easy keeping us a secret, trust me, I know.” he sighed, resting his chin on your head as he held you close. “I’m not embarrassed of you, y/n, I’m just trying to protect you. people… they can be pretty crazy when it comes to people I date. I just wanna keep you away from that just a little longer.”

you nodded into his chest. deep down, you knew that. you just needed to hear it from him. you let out a soft, contented sigh, the sound mirrored by lando as he tightened his grip round you just a little. he didn’t want to lose you, especially not over something like this, a fact he told his mum on the phone later that night as he finally told her all about you.

the final part is out now :)

a smau based on this fic is out now :)

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 imagine

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paarksunghoon · 4 months ago

Note

giving sunghoon a blowjob. please. for my health and sanity.

fuuuuuuck.

***

Sunghoon doesn’t know your name but he’s been hard for you for the better half of this party.

Your short dress leaves nothing to the imagination with your body on display underneath the soft fabric and your ass dangerously close to falling out every time you walk. He sees the way your hips sway to the beat of the song echoing through the house speakers and his eyes are glued to your exposed legs every time you walk past him.

The fact that you’re looking at him right now like he’s your next meal makes him feel like he could burst at any minute.

While his back is pressed against the bathroom door, he looks down at your kneeling figure with your cheek pressed against his thigh as you admire his hard cock straining against his jeans. Sunghoon thinks it’s so hot that you don’t even look at him. Your fingers pull down the zipper with ease as he thinks about the moments that led up to this one.

It was Heeseung that introduced the two of you. In a quick greeting, you’d stopped walking to say a quick ‘hello’ before Heeseung pointed at Sunghoon. One look at you was enough for him to keep thinking about you. He didn’t need to be drunk to know he wanted to fuck you within an inch of your life.

One dance turned into a grinding session in the middle of the dance floor with your ass rubbing against his lap. He tried to keep his heartbeat steady when you took his hand in yours and pushed it to the front of your body until his fingers were toying with the hem of your dress. That was enough for both of you to sprint to the nearest empty bathroom.

And now you’re pulling his pants and boxers down until his hard, leaking cock springs free. You lick his hard tip and a deep moan escapes from his mouth while your hand grabs him by the base of his shaft. Sunghoon watches you open your mouth and stick your tongue out. His cock spurts out more and more precum as you move to tap the head against your muscle, the pat pat pat sound making him roll his eyes back.

“Fuck,” he moans in a broken voice. “You’re so sexy.”

Sunghoon closes his eyes when your lips envelope the head into your mouth. He sucks in a breath when you hollow your cheeks and harshly suck on his tip, tongue rubbing against his slit like you’re trying to make him moan louder than the music outside. He bucks his hips forward involuntarily and nearly apologizes until you open your mouth wider and take half of him in one go.

With your hands on either side of his thighs, Sunghoon watches you move your head to and from his body. The sound of spit gathering at the corner of your mouth is music to his ears. You make his cock wetter with every pass of your tongue and the sight of the hottest girl he’s ever seen makes him feel crazy.

“You like sucking cock, don’t you?” You hum around him and he jerks his hips forward until you take another inch. Sunghoon uses his thumb to wipe some of the spit from your mouth. “You look perfect down there.”

His praise ignites your desires and you push your head against him faster and deeper until your nose hits his pelvis. Sunghoon almost chokes at the feeling of his tip against your throat. Nobody has ever taken all of him like this. You don’t complain and you don’t back down, instead gripping onto his thighs as you force yourself to stay put.

You pull back briefly and he watches a string of spit connect your mouth to his tip. As you look up at him, you stick your tongue out to lick him from underneath his balls to the slit before catching his cock into your mouth once again.

Your eyes well with tears and he coos at you while his thumb brushes the runny mascara from underneath you. Sunghoon doesn’t do a very good job, instead smearing the black makeup, but he argues that you look much better like this.

“Can I come in your mouth?” Sunghoon asks with a breathy tone. “Can I, please?”

You nod against him and push yourself up on your knees higher. Your gags egg him on as he pushes his hips against you one more time until the sound inevitably pushes him closer to the finish line.

“Relax your jaw.”

You do as he says to the best of your ability, mouth hanging open as Sunghoon’s hands hold your head in place. His fingers are warm against your skin and his tip touches the back of your throat with every deep thrust. More spit falls and coats his cock, which pistons in and out of your mouth like he’s on a mission to fill you with his essence until you start to dream about him.

“I’m cumming,” he grunts. “Fuck, stay still. I’m gonna fucking cum.”

Sunghoon throws his head back and pushes in and out of you as his come falls from his slit, coating the surface of your tongue. You do your best to keep it in your mouth and swallow as he pushes his release down the back of your throat. Sunghoon is somewhere between euphoria and reality when he looks at how you’re chasing his cock when his hips have slowed their movements, cleaning him off until no trace of him is left behind.

When you wipe the corner or your mouth with your finger and lick it clean, Sunghoon’s cock jumps.

“Shit,” he moans. “Think you can go again?”

Your open mouth tells him all he needs to know.

#enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen x reader #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #kpop smut #park sunghoon smut #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen hard hours #enha hard thoughts #my writing*#hard thought*#sunghoon

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xqueen-of-disasterx · 1 year ago

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Say yes to me

Paring: fem!reader x alpha!Nat

Warnings: SMUT, a/b/o, alpha Nat, omega reader, consensual human trafficking?, sex toys, begging, praise kink, pet names, breeding, unprotected sex, creampie, belly bulges, age gap (obviously)

!Disclaimer English is not my first language so please excuse any grammar or spelling errors. This story is completely fictional. I do not own these characters!

A/N: look who’s back

Masterlist-

You were prepared for once belonging to an powerful alpha, after all you had spent all your upbringing on a farm designed to produce omegas like you. In a world where most of the population either consisted of betas or alphas your kind was especially rare. Which meant there weren’t enough omegas for the alphas and that concluded in the farms like the one you had grew up in. The avengers mostly consisted of alphas, alphas with mates. Tony had Pepper, Clint had Laura and Nat had well no one until now. Tony thought he had been a damn genius when he got the idea what to get Nat for her 40th birthday. Why not get the alpha her very own mate?

Natasha couldn’t believe her eyes when she saw you, younger, unmated and exactly her type. She was grateful for her gift of course, ever since she got you she had been all over you. Trying to make you hers. Natasha despised the idea by mating you by force so she tried her best to appeal to you. You were surprised by the kindness of the older alpha as she respected your borders and never made you uncomfortable. She’d take you out to dinner, watch your favourite movies and even teach you some martial art.

You were certain to mate with her after all it wasn’t like you had much of a choice, however you weren’t complaining. You didn’t want her, no, you needed her. Every time you sat down on her lap and let her cock strain in her boxers. You tried to kiss her again and again but it never brought you anywhere. She insisted on waiting until your second heat which one bothered you more after all you hadn’t even had your first.

"Please Tasha" you whined rolling your hips in anticipation for her. "You know what the farm said mating in your sleeping with an alpha in your first heat only makes it wore" You rolled you eyes sitting up to get a better view of the assassin sitting on the edge of the king sized bed. "I need it, please touch me, please. You begged her. "We can use the toys they gave you for your heat" She prosed, it took everything in her not to mate you right now.

"Better than nothing" You signed watching Natasha tug off your shorts. She climbed up your body catching your lips in a heated kiss. You released whimpers as she shoved her tongue down her throat. You rocked your hips against hers, crotch on crotch as you tried to get her attention. "Fuck, you're a naughty girl" She groaned kissing down your neck to your chest nibbling on the sensitive skin of your breasts. "Please Tasha, please" you begged her "I'll make it better I promise кроли" Her calling you russian pet names only made you go even more crazy.

She had you laying on her chest with your back your legs spread over her crotch. One hand played with your breast using it as a sort of stress ball as she paled the sensitive flesh with her veiny hands. The other one held a vibrator to your puffy clit as you buckled your hips desperately against the toy. She had put it on a low setting enough to make you get close to your edge but not enough to actually make you cum. You moaned right in the older woman's ear in an attempted to get her to break her facade and finally mate you.

After a while of teasing your puffy cunt he decided to finally turn the toy up to give you the sweet release. You threw your head back on her shoulder crying out for a release. "Good girl" She praised you once more turning the device higher. "Come on sweet girl cum for me, cum for your alpha" With a few more rolls of your hips you had your release pressing your face into her neck as you clenched around nothing. Natasha helped you through your first orgasm of the night but you were far from satisfied, you were going to get her to mate with you that day.

Natasha seemingly not aware of your determination stood up from the bed to get a wash cloth from the bath couldn't believe her eyes when she came back to her bed room. You had placed yourself on her bed on all fours you back arched to present your tripping holes to the older alpha. "Please alpha breed me" You whined your face smushed against the soft pillow.

"Fuck you're making this hard for me baby girl" she chuckled standing behind you to palm your ass. "Jus' take me this rule is so stupid" you complained, there had been this stupid rule of not mating in your first heat because it should be something every omega should get over with however you couldn't care less. You could hear her unbuckling her belt before hearing the sound of the zipper going down. She placed herself behind you rubbing two fingers through your slit before pushing them past your tight hole.

"Fuck you're tighter than I thought but I'll make it fit кролик" She smirked pulling her fingers out again before alining her self behind you. Natasha pushed her hips forward pushing her cock into for weeping hole. She was big, bigger than you thought but after a while her stretch was so delicious you'd never want anything else. After she bottomed you out she waited for your approval to move. Her hands smooth over your lower back and womb feeling a small bump where the head of your cock was whimpering at the feeling of your tight walls behind her.

"Please, Natty, move" You breathed out anticipating the movement of the older woman. She started to pump her dick in and out your already sensitive cunt. You couldn't help but release sweet whimpers at the fast pace she had she had set. One arm sneaked around your body pulling you up against her chest as she never stopped pounding into you. She released an almost animalistic groan before biting down on your shoulder making you cry out to mark you as her mate.

"Fuck" She groaned into your ear "I'm gonna fuck you pregnant, you'll be tripping with my cum when I'm done with you" "Please Tasha breed me with your pups" You cried out. One of her exercised hands found its way to your overstimulated Clit rubbing the nub. "Cum, cum with me" She called out before releasing inside of your womb painting the insides white as her knot formed making her slow her movement. That triggered your own orgasm making you see stars.

She held you close caressing your body and whispering sweet nothings into you ear as she writhe for her knot to disappear. After awhile she pulled out to place you on the soft mattress she took a look between your leg to see your ruined cunt sum tripping out of your abused hole onto the beddings. The sight only made her hard again. "Ready for round 2"

#natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x female reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #alpha natasha #a/b/o

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jinkiezzsstuff · 9 months ago

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Hey! I really loved your Covkwarming with Alastor Story. Would you maybe want to make one where Alastor is busy and reader wants his attention? Maybe he even snaps at her only to later search for her and make it up to her? With lots of fluff and maybe nsfw?

Hope you have a nice day

-🌸🦇

BRODI! You waited a whole month for this and I AM SO SORRY. I love and appreciate you and your request so much thank you very much for being patient, i really really loved this idea but dang april has been a crazy month for me, i hope you’re doing well and enjoy this fic it’s a longer one!

i’m actually really happy with how this turned out

warnings: SMUT 18+, angst, fluff, mean alastor, you guys fight, gaslighting girl boss alastor, established relationship (you were together before he went missing), loyal reader described, codependency kinda, some horror aspects?, descriptions of alastors dead food, alastor admits his emotions and issues in an alastor way, brief descriptions of reader having self sabotaging habits- drinking smoking/potsmoking too, GN reader although clit is used, penetrative sex, slow sex, swearing, alastor doesn’t like pillow talk lol i think that’s it but let me know not proof read

5.1K words

Alastor was locked up in his radio tower, exhausted as he sifted through various forms of media coverage from his battle. Vox, the little electronic weasel, had his entire affair with Adam recorded and broadcasted around, which was frightful for Alastors image. Not only had he been gone for seven years, but he’s helping with a hotel that endorsed goodness. Needless to say Alastor wasn’t doing okay, his ears were constantly pulled back, smile strained, and he kept blowing the lights up and down. Hell, his static was so violent it even gave him headaches.

Even his shadows at this point began causing chaos, his own anxiousness and frustration bleeding off into them. Alastors isolation caused you to be extremely worried, you weren’t there while he fought Adam, you should’ve been, because since then he’s not been the same. You saw it on TV, the one Vox had broadcasted. Try as he may, Alastor didn’t keep it away long enough for you to not see, there was always someone else putting it back out there.

You didn’t bring it up to him- not that you could; he was too overly consumed in his tower. Incessantly shutting down broadcasts, throwing out power, attacking minor demons for spreading the information. It made you feel so very many unfortunate emotions, never in your many years of being dead have you ever seen him so erratic and emotionally disturbed.

Alastor would play pretend in public but you knew him, as did Husk, the two of you could tell he was tense, strained, constantly ready to snap, his poise was harder to keep. Lucifer presence in the hotel didn’t help at either, constantly trying to get into it with Alastor, which only furthered his isolation. You began to feel extremely lonely, it was rare in hell anyone was a good shoulder to cry on, or ear to hear, but you got used to going to Al after a long day, laying your head on his lap as he caressed your face and hummed you tunes, now you were alone most the time. None of his silly jokes filled the air, no you barging into your shared room and him attempting to hide his messy eating, no soft jazz playing next to you as you slept, no shadows trying to scare you, nothing.

It was incredibly lonely and the time without him showed how emotionally dependent you were on him. You wondered if he felt the same lonesomeness without you around, or if he didn’t even want you around? Maybe he was too wrapped up in his feelings to realize you weren’t around him? Did he have the same need for you as you did him? Did he miss little things about you as you did him.

Throwing your body off the couch and standing pin straight, you cut your thoughts off by marching towards Alastors tower on the far end of the hotel. You hadn’t been up there once since the battle, so this was bound to be interesting, and anxiety inducing. You could already feel the worry prickling your finger tips, making you even more uncomfortable. Knocking at Alastors door was, well, underwhelming, there was no sound, no movement, no indication he was even in there. Even shouting out at him normally would’ve gotten him to at least respond by now, it was rare he left people hanging like that, it wasn’t how he was brought up.

So you decide to cross the boundary you knew he loathed; intrusion. You entered with your breath held tightly making your throat clench, walking in you meekly hummed out his name. “Al? It’s been a long couple of days, I was wondering if you wanted some down time?” Your eyes bounced around the dark room, papers on the floor, radio frequency buzzing harshly in your ears, the low buzz of what sounded like hospital lights, it was all very creepy

Wringing your hands you came up toward his large table connected with cables and speakers, on the table was cups of coffee empty and half drank, corpses and bones of unfinished mutilated deer, and the smell of blood was something that suddenly hit you nearly knocking you back. As you covered your nose with your wrist, you back up and bumped into something, turning around with incredible speed. Alastor was there, taller than usual with his bones looking sharp and broken in his skin, his smile was stretched gruesomely making you nearly grimace, his eyes as well, wildly glaring down at you black and soulless. “Uh, I missed you.” You squeaked curling into yourself just at the sight of him.

Alastor hasn’t ever looked like this in front of you ever, it was such an abnormal and alarming look for you to set your eyes on. Alastor let out a jagged breath, his antlers growing in size with a nasty crunching sound to accompany it. “You disturbed my work, and snuck in, all because you missed me?” Alastor bent down to grab your attention, your eyes flickering to meet his own. You nodded at him, and he only hummed in return, standing tall and walking around his desk to sit at his chair. You turned on your heel to follow his movements, biting your lip with worry. Sure you were anxious before as you typically got with anybody, you weren’t confrontational and you weren’t one to cross the boundary, although you never expected him to look so angry with you.

“Perhaps, if that’s the case, you should find yourself another demon; I cannot be surrounded by the meek and emotionally stunted. My work, my image, will always come first my dear. Now, get out.” Alastor enunciated every word with his hands rested under his chin, and his head cocked to the side. Your stomach dropped and your cheeks watered like you were about to be sick, immediately your eyes widened, noises falling out of your mouth as you attempted to grasp at the words you were trying to say. “S-You’re breaking up with me?” Your voice was a wreck, struggling to expel the words past the sob that wanted to rip out of you, the disbelief evident in your tone. Alastor stood from his seat and leaned toward your face over the table, your lip quivered as he did so, trying your hardest not to cry.

“Heavens no! I’m simply saying if you can’t handle being a secondary priority perhaps you should take some time alone, remember what it is to be your own person! I will not bend my rules for some silly relationship.” His tone dripped with condescension and he finished his sentence with a boop on your nose. The only thing your mind could conjure was ‘how dare he?’ you never felt so insulted by him before. You always put him first, you waited seven years for his return defending his role in hell, and he sees you as secondary to himself. Does that mean he would save himself before you? Was this relationship only about his own desires, his own cravings and you weren’t important? You must be too sensitive about this?

“So you won’t spare me a moment because some stupid TV proved you aren’t invincible? Grow up Alastor please,” You could help the rage that slipped out in between your words, fists clenching, eyes narrowing. Alastor hissed statically at you. “Don’t for a second get it twisted up in your pretty little head that you are special, you are just like every other disposable sinner, i suggest you monitor your tone with me, dear.” Alastor crackled, his voice more electric than you’ve ever heard before. Your frown was deep, the tears silently falling down your cheeks. You didn’t even know what to say, instead you just shrugged with your head low, and turned around silently leaving him behind.

The moment you existed his tower you ran, your brain screamed to get away before somebody could question what was wrong or what happened. You couldn’t stomach the idea of being seen like this, and you didn’t want Alastor to come out and catch you, so you took off. You exited out the back without a trace, wandering into the streets of the pentagram. Eventually you found yourself back at your old apartment, which you still paid for as you really don’t plan to continue living at the hotel. When you got there you were finally able to let everything settle in you, it felt like the sadness slipped into your bones and weighed you down further into your sofa.

You didn’t move for hours, and eventually you ended up falling asleep. You left without a word, without your phone and without any of your stuff. Of course Alastor was very aware he made the choice to say the things he did, but he didn’t mean them, and after a short bit of reflection he could understand it was just an emotional response to the fear of being vulnerable. As well as the anxious thought dancing in his mind about the what ifs, what if he were to die, what if his plan fails and the deal goes wayward and you’re left with the pieces of his mess? What if Vox targets you, what if others do, do the citizens of hell see him as some weak mush because he’s dating you?

It’s all what led him to exploding; insecurity. Even the thought of having such a low tier emotion made his blood boil, but as long as nobody knew about it, he would find a way to quell it. Alastor waited, not wanting to impose while you were still going through thee emotions. However things started getting worrisome by the next day, nearly thirty hours into being gone and the patrons had begun to question him. Obviously Alastor didn’t know, and instead opted to sway the topic away from you and instead to something else.

The week came and gone like a blur, Alastor hadn’t seen you since you came into his tower and the rest of the hotel had set out to look for you with no luck. Alastor kept to his tower, telling himself if you wanted to be away that was your choice; he wasn’t chasing you like some lost puppy. Though he did find himself briefly wondering if you were still alive, after all Vox was out there watching through cameras on every corner and Adam’s corpse went missing and wasn’t accounted for, there was many threats to your safety he hadn’t thought of before.

With a sigh of static frustration, Alastor flicked his hand giving the okay to his right hand shadow to go find you, he couldn’t stand his thoughts anymore. And so it did, within seconds the shadow zipped and zoomed knowing exactly where you were, not that you were trying to hide. It slinked up against the paint peeling wall of your apartment, watching you on the couch, news softly sounding out as you read a book. Your home was a wreck, looking as though you’ve had fits upon fits of rage and lacked to clean after. Dishes piled, laundry scattered all across the linoleum floors. Alcohol, pot and cigarettes were a hefty scent in the room, it didn’t accompany the damp mold smell well at all. Oh what a thing you’d become without Alastor! The shadow watched like a fly on the wall for varying moments, studying you and your state before vaporising into the floor and taking off back to its master.

Honestly, you weren’t expecting Alastor to come knocking at your apartment door, so when you swung it open expecting your usual delivery guy, you were shocked and you didn’t bother fixing your depressed appearance. “Goodness gracious my little dame it looks like you’ve been dragged through mud!” Alastor laughed boisterously using his microphone to push you aside and barge in. You stood aside speechless, watching as he stepped inside with his hands rested just above his tail, surveying the room around him. His neck cracked disgustingly, his body forward while his head faced you, his grin tamed. “What happened here?” The words were simple but his tone was confusing, you couldn’t tell if he was angry, suspicious, or worried. You sneered at him, lip twitching upward as you slammed the door and wordlessly returned to your spot on the couch.

“I didn’t expect you to search, work come first yknow.” Oh yes, you planned to milk the words he said against you to berate him and his attempts to make up, you were in hell for a reason after all. Alastor huffed- like a buck would, something uncharacteristic for him to do outside of being alone with you, which sickeningly made your heart flutter, he still trusted you in a way, did that mean you were still his? You always told him he was more deer then he’d like to admit and those huffs were one of those deer attributes. “Hm yes, but you’ve been quite the work, I hope you know.” You clenched your teeth, trying not to snap instantly, but you did send him a glare.

You muttered about how that didn’t make things any better when he snapped his fingers, all things garbage vanishing in a pinch, mold included. “Ah, much better! My mother always said the state of the house is the state of the mind!” A round of applause sounds from his microphone as he laughed, rounding the couch with a slow stride. “Tell me, would you like to talk?” It felt more condescending then genuine, the way he was bent forward with lidded eyes and an eased smile, like you were some child having a tantrum. “No, Al, you made what you said pretty fuckin clear, i don’t wanna be with you if I am some chore or job, or secondary whatever!- i wanna be your partner and you want me to be a pet? Yeah, no thanks.” You punctuated your sentence with a dramatic scoff, flopping back into the cushions with your arms folded protectively across your chest.

“Ahhh my little doudou,” Alastor chided, sitting himself flush to you, arm around the back of the couch to trap you near him. “I want you to listen to me, and listen to me closely because i will never admit this again!” Alastor exclaimed this with what sounded to be false confidence and a slight hint of exasperation. He pinched your chin in between his claws forcing you to look at him, and of course you did, what else were you to do? “I have become a fool, all across the pentagram, I’m held by ball and chain— the devil my dear! The devil is- some frazzled little nitwit with all the power and no ambition!” Alastors fist clenched at the mention of Lucifer, abandoning your chin to do so. “I was feared my dear, nobody dared to test my authority, and now i’m an assumed bellboy for the princess and her gaggle of misfits. You,” Alastor paused leaning in so close your noses touched.

“My dear, were the only one i actually wouldn’t mind being weakened for.” You couldn’t stop the comical ‘huh’ that gargled straight from your throat. “What does that even mean Alastor.” You whine throwing your head back bumping his arm as you did so, an unknowing invitation to slide it down, hand caressing your shoulder softly. “It means dear, I didn’t mean what i said, because i’ve already done those exact things in the past! I’ve missed countless radio shows from you, refrained from eating deer around you- for your sake. I’ve held you to me on every block knowing Vox could see us perfectly! You were my chosen weakness, darling, but with all these other useless sinners belittling my role in hell, i took it out on you,”

Pausing Alastors static faded in and out, you watched his eyes closely, but the real give away was the way his ear subtly tilted to the side looking like a sad puppy. “I felt what i said, I felt weak and I knew you needed me and didn’t want to feel this weakness anymore, so logically-” You scoffed with a small smirk, mockingly muttering ‘logically’ back at him. “-I had to try to appear as though I am what I originally intended to be.” He finished giving you a pointed look. Shifting your body to face him more, you analysed his body language and face. Typically- no matter how long you’ve been together- he was amazing at hiding his emotions, always seeming to be happy. It seemed like he let his guard down however, his eyebrows were furrowed and pointed upward, his smile tight, shoulders rigid and his breathing shallow. Anticipation was evident by the way his hoof tapped against the floor with beat.

You finally let you emotion reignite, the tears slipped down your face like rivers as you gently shook your head. “What did you intend to be?” You asked softly, an unattractive spit bubble forming as you opened your mouth. “A ruler of sorts, i suppose. Emotionless, cruel, untouchable. I tried to reaffirm to myself by being cruel to you my dear, that i was still a demon, not the altruist teddy bear they all dubbed me as.” Alastors form had finally slumped, sinking into the cushions alongside you, his head falling back gazing up at the ceiling. You caved just slightly at his admission, and rested your head on his chest near his armpit, your body sinking into his. Suddenly he perked up, looking down at you, you reflexively shooting your gaze up to him.

“Yknow they made a mockery of my speech as well my dear! Preposterous, darling, many sinners posted about me being ‘cringe’, my speech was ‘corny’, my dearest can you believe that?” You almost took offence to the fact he sounded more distraught over being made fun of rather than hurting you, but you reminded yourself that Alastor was trying to open up, and you weren’t gonna ruin that. “Is that why you were killing randos instead of overlords?” You asked feeling more relaxed than you had before, obviously there was many words in between you two unsaid, but you wanted to bask in the small talk you craved for so long from him just a little longer.

“Precisely. I’m proud you noticed.” You hummed with a small smile, your head resting back on his chest. “Why did it take so long for you to come?” Despite not even thinking he would, you now had the knowledge he didn’t actually hate you, and if he didn’t why’d he drag it out? “Pride,” What would’ve been a hoarse voice to any other demon, was a staticy robotic sound that crackled out of his chest. “This is way out of my comfort my dear, i didn’t and still don’t know what to say or do, and i don’t like being out of control.” You whimpered at that, curling up into him, your legs slinging over his thighs so you could cuddle up next to him. Immediately his arms engulfed you, pulling you into him with a happy hum, his neck craning to kiss your head softly.

“i missed you, you really hurt me, bad. Don’t do it again.” You state firmly though it was muffled by the fabric of his coat, the one you had your face nuzzled into. Alastor hummed out softly petting you on your head, just like he would before. “Never again doudou~, you have my word, and i promise to make it up to you.” Tiling your head upward you yanked at his colar, and he immediately ducked down meeting your lips at will. The kiss was soft and Alastor could feel the dampness from your tears on your chin against him. After a moment you both pulled away, although not far from eachother your lips were practically still touching.

“Why don’t I give you some attention my sweet doe.” Alastor cooed against your lips, you could hear the mischief in his tone as his hand pawed your hips. You blinked slowly at him, an instant twist of desire appearing low in your gut. “How?” Alastors grin widened for the first time since appearing at your door, and you feared you’d truly be in for it tonight. “Oh my, have i neglected your needs so long you need to inquire how?” Alastor question was rhetorical only furthered by the way he kissed his teeth with his index finger coming up to shake side to side. “That simply will not do!” Standing suddenly, with you in his arms, made you gasp and clutch onto him instinctively. You smacked his chest playfully, muttering to him about being too heavy, he however ignored you, walking toward your old room with his head held high.

The room in question was a mess, and a thick layer of dust coated every object that wasn’t being continually used, like the nightstand, and the lamp. Alastor didn’t care much though, he never did care whether you were messy or super clean he’d always snap his fingers to assist you, and that’s exactly what he did. Slowly around the room things cleared up, his shadows slunk into the room with strange looking candles setting a romantic tone for the room. The bed was remade neatly when he set you on it gently, watching your doe eyes stare up at him with a familiar intensity that always made him fidgety. You let him flop you down without complaint, after all it wasn’t always that Alastor seemed so interested in getting down and dirty.

Standing above you, Alastor grinned down at you with lidded eyes, letting his long fingers dance down his chest to undo his buttons. He wasn’t really a fan of trying to appear sexually appealing to those around him, he’d never admit how out of the ordinary, and awkward it felt, but he knew you. You were his. You were loyal. You waited seven years just for him, never spilling a single secret. Secretly, he was way more comfortable with trying to appear “sexy” for you, because he knew no matter what, you wouldn’t look at him any differently. Alastor shrugged off his jacket, his button down shirt open exposing his chest to you. “Y'know dear,” A bit of southern drawl slipped out, as the mask he wore slipped away with his jacket. “You give me a very special outlet i do not think i’d have with any other sinner, you’re too kind to me.” Pulling off his shirt, he folded it and set it aside, kicking off his slacks right after, leaving himself in his boxers and long socks.

You watched him undress with wide eyes, you wanted nothing more then being pressed against the warmth of him, absorbing his touch. You however stayed still, letting Alastor relax into the mood as he rid himself of clothes. Alastor sat on the edge of the bed, right beside your hips, his hand traced lightly up and down your torso, occasionally dipping down to your thighs. You felt tense at the touch, both anticipation and insecurity making you feel stiff. Suddenly his claw hooked around the band of both your undergarments and pants, his eyes flickering up to inspect you when he did so. “May I?” His voice was soft, the usual uncertainty present as he felt out of his realm. “Yes, please.” You sigh, your tone nearly whiny. “I missed you so much Alastor,” You admit hushed as his claws brushed down your thighs with your clothes. Once off, Alastor leaned down, giving soft pecks to your thighs, eyes staring up to you through his red lashes. “Yes dear, my life been painstaking without you.” He whispered against your flesh, sharp teeth dragging up past your hips, nose bumping the cloth of your shirt. Sitting up slightly, you were preparing to slid your shirt over your head when Alastors body slid between your legs, claws coming up to pinch and lift the fabric exposing your chest.

With him now face to face with you, leaned over your body, you caved. Your hands slid around his neck guiding him toward you slowly, your lips met instantly like two magnets being held just inches apart. It was a sweet kiss for the most part, your lips meshed against his as you let him control the pace, it was nice with Alastor you always had enough time for the heat to simmer and grow, making foreplay unnecessary most times because he naturally took his time. You raked your fingers through his hair, nails scratching up his scalp causing ripples of goosebumps down his arms. Alastor slipped his tongue delicately licked at your lip, brushing as soft as ever. You were a bit shocked at this, typically he wasn’t into french kissing, lamenting that the whole tongue thing was messy and disgusting feeling. However you didn’t fight him, only allowed him access, which he immediately took with ease slipping his tongue against your own.

His body collided into yours, nose bumping your cheek as he angled his head. Your hands slipped down his back, smiling against his lips at the feeling of his tail wagging back and forth making small gusts of wind against your fingertips. Alastor nipped at your lips in retaliation, hands roaming your body as he pushed his hips up to softly grind his hard on into you. You hummed at the feeling of him against you, angling your hips back and up pressing your wetness against his briefs. Your body was buzzing while Alastor slowly grinded himself down on you, his clothed head travelling between your folds and back up to poke at your clit. The kiss had broken as he continued on, your breathing shaky as you enjoyed the slow motion of him above you, his teeth scraping down the length of your neck.

Alastor couldn’t help the groan that bubbled out of him. Not only could he smell your arousal but he could smell just you. He pressed his face to the nape of your neck, kissing and inhaling, loving the smell you had naturally on your skin. He also got quite the kick out of hearing the blood rush through your veins, it made him feel feral knowing you would bare yourself to him so willingly, he had you around his finger. Alastor let his lips glide down your body, leaving bite marks down your chest and neck as he did so, hips still moving slowly against you. You had soaked his briefs making the fabric feel absent, clinging to every ridge and vein of his cock slide through your folds. “Please Al, I need you.” You whined pathetically, pressing your hips up into his. Alastors choppy breath warmed your collar bone, his forehead rested on your shoulder, eyes closed as he slipped his hand down, yanking himself out of his boxers.

Sometimes he felt like an untrained dog, he couldn’t help but want to hump into you without restraint, but that wasn’t him, that was desire, and he knew how to hold back. As he sunk into you, slowly, he breathed out the quietest of noises against you shoulder, basking in you. You could hear his quiet noises clearly since he was so close, you bite your lip at the sound of him, loving how he always let you see him so wrecked. When Alastors hips were flush with your own, your legs came up around his hips, his tail stiff, while your arms wrapped around his neck, your right hand dragging up his scalp to his ears. “I like hearing you, Alastor,” You gasped as he jolted into you, like an involuntary reaction to your praise. “It makes me feel you.” You finished breathlessly. Alastor hummed against you, setting his pace slow and deep, barely pulling away before he pushed hard back inside you.

Your eyes were wide as he continued this rhythm, to you it was incredibly overwhelming, he never left you vacant always hungry to fill you right back up with him. His pants against you were also adding to your arousal, his eyelashes fluttered against your skin ever now and again as he attempted to contain himself. You knew he was sort of embarrassed with himself feeling pleasure, so you never egged him on when he did start making noise, but lord you wanted more. You tugged Alastors hair softly, pulling him up for a sloppy opened mouth kiss. He barely opened his eyes as he mushed his lips against yours, snaking his tongue against your own, bucking up faster into you at the warmth of your mouth. “I missed you, i love you,” You cried against his lips pathetically, your body’s both rocking on the bed as Alastor hurried his pace.

Alastor let out a low guttural noise, something from the back of his throat making your toes curl, pulling at his hips with your legs. “I couldn’t- stand you being away, dear.” Alastors face was inches from your own, forehead rested on yours, lips brushing against each other as he spoke. “Never again will i be such a fool, you’re mine forever.” Alastor growled through his clenched teeth, claws ripping into the mattress as he spoke. Your mouth hung open, eyebrows raised as you tried to from some sort of praise, but now his eyes were open looking down at you with such intensity and emotion, and his pace fast hard putting your body straight into the mattress. You didn’t even feel your orgasm coming on when it did, your body arching up into his, crying out his name alongside pleas.

The display of you in front of him was so pornographic, something he wasn’t fond of seeing but now understood why people were. You were gorgeous right now, your face red, your eyes watering, your body folded up towards his, all the scars, folds marks on your body, all for his eyes only. Groaning loudly, he fell back into his favourite place, your neck, and let out a deep breathless static moan as he came. You clutched him the entire time through watery blurred eyes, enjoying the feeling of him inside you post orgasm. Pulling away, Alastor was quick to pull out and away, snapping his fingers he began to clean you with a cloth. “Disgusting of me,” He muttered, seemingly angrily. “No, it was good Al, you’re allowed to. You’re not disgusting and neither was the sex, believe me.” You coo, sitting up from your position, a dopey look on your face. In a snap, Alastor was redressed as were you, in leisure clothing. “We’re going back to the hotel to sleep my little doe.” Alastor spoke softly, lending his hand to you, humming you took his hand letting him take you through his magic, back to the hotel. You knew Alastor didn’t like to lay sticky in the remnants of sex like many others, and probably would push you to shower before getting in his bed. But that way okay, you loved him regardless, and you really missed having his attention.

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doctorho · 2 months ago

Text

thinking about viktor with a chronically ill reader. you know? we see the vision, right?

it just works.

the thing with chronic pain, illnesses, disabilities, all of that - is that you can't always see them. sometimes you can, sure, you can see the mobility aids and the not-standing-up-for-too-long and the bruising from blood draws and sometimes you can see the compression garments, the pills and inhalers and the i'm fine, i just need a moment-

but most people just don't pay attention to that. or if they do, they don't put the pieces together fast enough to figure out what's really going on under the surface. viktor does, though; he's been there, and most of the time he's way beyond hiding it. or, well, he's way beyond hiding some of it.

walking with a cane was like carrying a neon sign that said yes there is something different here. yes i can't walk the way you can. no it's not going to get better. that last part wasn't directly evident just from him using a cane, sure, but with the way his cane looked, it should've been pretty clear. He had used one practically forever and it had evolved with him, he'd made it as comfortable to use as it could be, had even made it match his uniform.

so yeah. viktor knew what it was like. he'd been the disabled kid forever, even if some of the others were never going to say it out loud. that was just a thing about him, and he knew how hard it could be to navigate something like that in an academic environment. it was hard to admit you couldn't do something, that you had to sit down, that you needed a moment. that sometimes your body was just falling apart for no particular reason and it was just another tuesday.

sometimes it was easier to sit with the pain than take medication in the middle of a meeting, knowing that someone would make a bigger deal out of it than it had to be, even if it was just raising their eyebrows meaningfully. they'd think about you differently afterwards.

he could see you push through it, and he didn't blame you, really, he did that himself, too, but - he didn't want you to hurt yourself. you hadn't been in the lab as long as he had, so he could understand you being a little cautious with how you acted and what you told people, but he didn't want you to feel like you had to put on a show for him. he was, after all, walking around with the equivalent of a light-up sign of i'm disabled, too, and he liked to think of himself as someone who wouldn't come off as judgemental about stuff like that. other stuff, sure, stupid stuff, but not that.

so when he sees you dealing with the telltale signs of being in pain, he conveniently sends jayce and the others to pick up some parts that would take a while to collect and that they wouldn't actually need until the next day. but better prepared, right? what's the harm.

and then he comes to sit next to you and sighs deeply. leans back. relaxes to the best of his abilities. asks if you're alright, and sounds like he already knows the answer.

you sigh too, shift your position, and answer with it's fine. and viktor recognizes the strain in your voice, in your posture, and he knows there's a key difference between this and i'm fine, but he'll take it. it's not what he'd like, but he'll take it.

he leans over to dig around his belongings, and then offers you a bag of candied almonds.

"if you're going to take pain killers, it's better if you eat something first," he says, and you just stare at him. "i assume you haven't taken anything yet. nothing strong enough, at least," he continues, casually, and you take a deep breath and accept the almonds.

he smiles. continues like this is totally normal. "jayce made me start carrying around some food so i could do that. for myself, i mean. but it doesn't hurt to have some snacks around either way, i suppose."

he knows he's skirting around the real topic of the conversation, but he also knows that sometimes people get uncomfortable around his bluntness, and you hadn't exactly told him you were in pain, so he'd understand it if you were a little weirded out. after all, most people didn't notice this stuff. but you haven't run away from him, and you're eating, and then you're digging around your own bag to take your medication, so he'll count this as a win.

thanks, you exhale, handing back the almonds, and he takes a handful of them himself.

"i'm fine, really," you continue, not really looking at him, "it's just hard sometimes."

he nods. it was - even if he didn't know the specifics, he knew that it was true. especially since you had been hiding it from the others. and with something like that, something the others couldn't see, the invisible step to let them see it would grow bigger and bigger with time, when they expected you to be able to do everything they did without a second thought.

he also knows you didn't mean fine in the dictionary definition sense of the word, but more in the this is normal and you don't need to worry -sense. and that's fine. he was used to functioning on different parameters than most people, so this version of fine was good enough.

my body just isn't always very reliable, you explain with a sigh, and that he knows better than well.

he hmms in answer and nods. he knows.

you exhale a small laugh at that.

and he's glad you're relaxing, wants you to be as comfortable here as possible.

"these people are alright," he says casually, "as far as healthy people go."

viktor smiles a little.

another win for him.

and then he sits with you, talking and not talking and enjoying the quiet comfort if it all. and then he makes up some excuse so you don't have to keep working yet. he was well aware what it was like trying to work through the pain, waiting for the medication to kick in, and he wouldn't exactly recommend it. besides, as a rule, you were more likely to make mistakes if you were thinking through a layer of pain, and that was just plain bad planning. it made much more sense to just take a break and continue when you felt better. in fact, he was in dire need of a caramel latte and a pastry right now, do you want anything?

and after that it just... sort of falls into place. you're more relaxed around him. and the others, too, but he's the only one that really gets it. doesn’t make a whole thing out of it when you need to sit down for a moment or take a break while your pain killers kick in. he's just there.

he knows what it's like, and that feels like an invisble curtain lifted from between you and him, and it's just easy. you don't have to pretend you're doing better than you actually are and he doesn’t hide it when he's in pain, either.

most people don't see it, but there's a mutual understanding there; yeah, sometimes life sucks and sometimes you're in pain and no it's not fair that sometimes your body is falling apart and life just keeps going. you can't do all the things you want to do but you still have to show up for the other life-stuff and if you took a day off every time you felt bad you would never get anything done and it just never stops.

but sometimes there's someone who'll sit through it with you without judgement. offer a warm drink and a snack and some understanding.

#scribbles #yes i did write this while waiting for my pain killers to kick in what about it #it works. you know i'm right #viktor arcane x reader #viktor x reader #viktor arcane

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