#don't mind me i just made my work meals for the week
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Deadpool / Wolverine x reader | Domestic headcanons
I am legitimately moments from collapse so I will cope. Again. Domestic headcanons!!
Can't lie to y'all I'm a big fan of the poolverine x reader poly trope so. This is all made with that in mind.
Words: 950
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Wade > Will make you food sometimes to cheer you up, but it's just straight childish. Hot chocolate with a mountain of whipped cream and chocolate shavings, a stack of pancakes (a full foot taller than it needs to be) with yet another mountain of whipped cream and syrup, the type of stuff you only expect in some old cartoon > Comes home with the DUMBEST socks. You have to physically pull him away from those stores that specialize in funky socks. He came home with 5 different hero themed socks once (One was him, obviously. He had a wolverine one, Spiderman, Thor, and one pair of Jesus socks whom he claimed was also a superhero) > Butterfly kiss bandit. One kiss is NEVER enough for this asshole. At the least, if you dare try to give him one (1) kiss on the lips before going somewhere, he follows you when you pull away. Does that make sense? Like, you kiss him and as you're pulling away he'll follow to press another kiss, and however many he can get in before you're actually pushing him away. > Or Logan has to punch him to get his own kiss in > So annoying. If you spend too long without giving him attention, you can't expect to work on ANYTHING alone > Laying on your lap when you sit to work, draping himself over you if you stand up to work on something, practically a blanket if you're laying down to work on something > Very thoughtful gift giver though. Maybe he can't always afford some expensive gift, but, he always comes back from cheap stores (Dollar tree, Salvation Army, that strange family owned second hand store that Logan swears smells like blood somewhere) with something strangely catered to you. Funny trinket weirdly related to a story you told about one you'd seen in a store back on a trip out of state when you didn't have enough money and was heartbroken to come home without. A shirt that would fit perfect with those pants you just bought (he adores everything you wear and can only hope to cheer you up with more) > For SURE replaced your underwear with the dumbest merchandise you've ever seen once. I'm fully convinced. At least put it in with the rest. I can't imagine he wouldn't find some corny ass Deadpool thong and beg you to try it on. No one is sure if he just finds it funny or actually thinks it's cool.
Logan > Much more sensible when it comes to making you food. Knows how to make a good home cooked meal, some recipes he gained along the way like some grandma with a box of old stained recipe sheets > Makes tea for sure. Gruff as hell but, when he's really needed, he shows up with a hot cup. Tries to make himself all tough, like if it's been a long week. "Chamomile. Helps you calm down, or some shit." > He has pride. He might act like he's constantly annoyed by the two of you, but god forbid he seems like a bad boyfriend. Ever. > "I can hold my own bags?" "Fucking give them to me." > Like aggressively gentlemanly. Has the spirit just not the vocab > Lets Wade know if he thinks he's doing a terrible job as a boyfriend. Don't get me wrong, they love each other. They're each other's boyfriends too. But sometimes Logan feels like a glorified coach. > Wade will be particularly annoying one day, you had a LONG ass shift, and he's attention starved. You're clearly not having it, when Wade's draping himself over your shoulder while you're cooking and Jesus Christ this guy is heavy. You barely have time to react when Logan is throwing him over his shoulder lumberjack style. "Get the hell off" (He's already off, thanks to Logan) > Wade convinced him to wear a cop outfit once as a joke because of how he acts on dates and the such ('policing' wade and his behavior), but, ended up being too into it. Both of them. While still a little embarrassed, Logan could fit the role and Wade couldn't fit in his pants anymore. > Definitely tries to get you to the gym with him, however hard that is > If you like going: He just kinda tries to join you, almost lost puppy esque. If you don't, he's nearly bribing you to come along with him. I feel like he's the type to just have a little home gym though. Doesn't strike me as a public workout guy. I wouldn't know. > I'm unsure how to word this- I think he's a demanding cuddler. You are NOT in charge. He's holding you like a teddy bear, not as in like hugging- like you're his stuffy or something. You're almost unsure it counts so much as cuddling, so much as him just holding you. Does that make sense? You're near rag dolling when he cuddles with you because he just refuses to let someone else have control while cuddling, not as an insecurity thing that's just how he likes to cuddle > He will let you have control on occasion if it's clearly been a hard day. You may hold him if someone was a jerk to you today (Wade doesn't count. "you chose to let him live here instead of sleeping outside." "Hey!") > Don't try and excuse it with "I have to make breakfast" he'll just get up still holding you. Like the stubborn ass he and Wade always are. He's awkwardly holding you under your armpits (hugging you like a kid in the hallway holds their stuffy) as if that's supposed to be the optimal way to cook. Still has that gruff look the whole time btw ♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡
Hope you guys enjoyed, as always! I live to fill the heart and soothe the soul. Let me know if you guys want a part two- I may be able to crank some more out. Have a good day/night, and a great life!!
#fanfic#fanfiction#fan fiction#fiction#fan fic#comfort#help#fic writing#wolverine x reader#deadpool and wolverine#logan wolverine#wolverpool#poolverine#deadpool x y/n#deadpool 3#deadpool x you#deadpool movie#deadpool x reader#wade wilson#logan howlett#mcu deadpool#mcu wolverine
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hot and sour soup is so fucking amazing. just the perfect base to throw whatever's on hand in and so filling and so easy to put 3+ proteins in without feeling overwhelmed just ougughghghghghghhhh
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A relaxing evening
pairing: lee felix x afab!reader
genre: smut, fluff, roommates to lovers
word count: 3.2k
warnings: soft dom lix, big dick lix, sensual massage, clit play, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, one light spank, not proofread (lmk if i missed something)
a/n: after spending a month writing a literal 70k+ book for hyunjin i hit a bit of a writer's block and who better to get me out of it than my very own muse, lee felix😏
~ Masterlist
To say you've had a horrible day was an understatement.
You've had the worst day that actually stretched and turned into the worst week.
Your boss was on your neck constantly, there was so much work to do which made you stay at the company working overtime and coming home late.
To make matters worse, everyone was angry and annoyed, so the conflict at work grew into a displeasing feeling that had you desperate for any kind of relief, even just a free afternoon to nap.
Felix, your roommate and friend, noticed how you came home later than usually and more drained day after day, the dark circles under your eyes getting progressively darker as the week came to an end.
Finally, Friday came around and you were barely standing on your feet when you walked into the apartment.
Felix is sitting on the couch, probably playing some games before sleep as you shuck off your shoes.
"Hi, sugar plum."- he snickers when he hears you groaning behind him, his head falling backwards to catch a glimpse of you.
"Please, don't start. I'm not in the mood."- you say tiredly.
Usually you throw disgustingly cute nicknames back and forth at each other but your brain was short-circuiting so bad that even thinking of a nickname for your friend was hard.
Felix exhales, pouting as he gets up and makes his way to you, helping you take off your blazer.
"I'll heat up some dinner."- he says and you nod, not even bothering to answer because the last ounce of strength you have is focused on standing upright.
You follow him to the kitchen to drink some water, and Felix looks at your tired frame, feeling sad that you're so down, instead of being your usual self, the one that jokes around and yaps away with him until the early morning.
"Why don't you sit down?"- he guides you to the chair and you sit wordlessly.
"My whole body hurts."- is what you say after a few moments of silence, as Felix waits for the dinner to warm up, his eyes trained outside the window.
"And my mind too."- you add as he looks at you and you notice the sympathetic smile he gives you.
"Well..."- Felix starts as he takes the food out on a plate. "I could prepare you a nice warm bath."
"You would do that?"- you ask, in your tired state you feel emotional and tears prick at your eyes.
"Of course I would."- he smiles, the sweet expression on his face as he brings you dinner makes you feel a little bit healed already.
"You're an angel, Lixie."- you smile as he squeezes your shoulder.
"I don't know about that."- he chuckles shyly, his freckled cheeks becoming rosy instantly.
You shake your head with a fond smile as he makes his way to the bathroom while you finally have a normal warm meal after the lunch you ate at work.
Hunger takes you over and you finish eating quickly, just in time for Felix to come back.
"Oh, you're done already?"- he asks.
"Don't judge me."- you say and he chuckles.
"No, I'm not judging, just wondering if you're still hungry. I could make you something else?"
"No, no don't worry, Lix. I'm ready for that relaxing bath."- you smile and he nods, biting on his lip.
"Um, can I suggest something?"- he asks as you stand up and you tilt your head at him.
"What is it?"- you ask curiously.
"You know I have some knowledge about massaging. I could help you relieve your stress with a full body massage." - Felix says and your eyes widen. "I mean if you're comfortable with it. You don't have to... ugh forget it."- he seems embarassed suddenly and you chuckle.
"A free full body massage? Sign me up."- you smirk.
"Who said it was free?"- he smirks back at you.
"Oh, so you're gonna charge me for your services, hm?"- you joke and he laughs.
"No, of course not. I'm just joking."- he says. "Go enjoy the bath I prepared, before it gets cold."- he adds and you make your way to the bathroom.
As soon as you walk in, you gasp, Felix has really made an effort.
He put your favorite bath bomb with bubbles into the water, lit your favorite scented candle and even adjusted the lighting to be less attacking on your tired eyes.
You strip in no time, throwing all your clothes inside the hamper and getting into the bath as quickly as you could.
The water is still warm and it feels wonderful to submerge your weary body into the relaxing feeling.
You close your eyes, leaning your head back on a towel as you feel the relaxation slowly taking you over, traveling through your limbs and making you feel weightless.
The warm and cozy atmosphere that Felix created have you almost falling asleep in the bath as your body slips a little and you sit up with a start, your eyes snapping open.
"Y/n? You okay?"- you hear Felix on the other side of the door.
"Yeah, I'm fine, I'll be out soon."
"Okay, I prepared everything for the massage."- he says and you giggle to yourself.
You don't feel too nervous being practically naked in front of Felix as you have known him for a long time and since you've been roommates you have seen each other naked on accident a few times.
He even gave you a few shoulder and back massages when you were in pain from sitting at your desk for too long but he never suggested a full body one.
Curious about it and ready to relax completely, you shower and dry off quickly, putting a bathrobe on and leaving to your room.
"Lix?"- you peek inside and see that he has fluffed up your bed, lit another scented candle and a few normal ones just to add to the atmosphere, and prepared some massage oils.
"Damn, you went all out."- you chuckle.
"I wanna make you feel better."- he smiles sweetly, making your heart flutter a little as you make your way towards the bed.
The two of you stand awkwardly for a few moments before both of you chuckle.
"I should undress, right?"- you smile and Felix nods quickly before turning his back to you and covering his eyes for a good measure.
"Tell me when you're ready to start."- his voice is muffled behind his palms and you giggle as you take the robe off.
You lay down on your stomach, pulling a towel that Felix prepared over your backside and private parts, getting comfy on the soft bed.
"I'm ready."- you say when you find a nice position, your forehead pressed against the end of the pillow so you can breathe, your arms on either sides of you, aligning with your body.
Felix bites on his lip as his eyes roam on your body shamelessly.
"Lix?"- you say and he snaps out of his thoughts.
"Yes, let me grab some lavender oil. It's good for relaxing."- he announces and you mutter, ready to just enjoy having his skilful hands on you.
Felix kneels next to you, as you feel the bed dip and hear him opening the little bottle of oil.
Some light music is playing in the background and you exhale a hundred worries as soon as his fingers press on your shoulders.
"Mm Lixie."- you moan instantly, making his gut stir but he shakes it off, wanting to focus only on your well-being.
His thumbs circle your flesh slowly, going up to the sides of your neck and down the top of your shoulders before pressing back to the original spot, circling it and taking off the stiffness you feel from spending long hours at your desk.
Little moans of relaxation keep coming out of your mouth and Felix's sweatpants get tighter, as your body visibly relaxes.
Working his way down your back, he keeps adding oil and finding the most painful spots skilfully and relieving you of your pain, as if it was his actual career.
"God, Lixie, you're so good."- you whimper, smushing your face into the pillow for a moment.
"I know."- Felix smirks, making you chuckle.
And he does know. He knows exactly which pressure points are located where so when his fingers press into your lower back, just a bit above your ass, you feel a wave wash over you.
"Oh."- you exclaim a little but Felix never acknowledges it, smirking behind you as he gently massages your lower back.
You start feeling a bit hot, aroused even as he continues his ministrations, fingertips barely dipping to the swell of your ass.
Your breathing is slow and deep, your body completely relaxed as you left yourself in Felix's precious hands.
Felix shuffles a little, you hear more oil being opened before you feel his hands on your foot.
"Good?"- he checks in on you and you whimper as he presses and continues bringing you relaxing touches.
"Perfect."- you half-whisper, your mind floaty, all the stress from the week forgotten, no thoughts, just Felix.
Felix, with his soft hands and deep voice, his pretty smile and adorable freckles.
Wait.
Why are you thinking of him like that?
You don't know why, and you don't care as his hands slide above your ankle, he presses four fingers on your skin as if he's measuring something on the inner side before he finds a pressure point and starts working on it.
As soon as his finger finds that spot, you shiver, feeling yourself getting aroused the more he keeps circling that spot.
You would feel embarassed but you're so relaxed that you couldn't care less, your body melting even further into the bed, your arms coming up on either sides of your head as you gently fist the sheets beneath you.
Felix smirks, massaging the point harder, making your arousal drip between your folds, your cunt clenching around nothing.
He notices your slight squirming and that lets him know he's got you right where he wanted you.
He lets go for now, hands sliding up to massage your tired muscles.
At this point, you're aroused, wishing he would touch you where you need him the most and you want to press your legs together but you don't want him to notice that.
Felix already knows, after all, his touches were purposeful and he has wanted you for so long, wanted to be the one to make you feel good.
"Lix."- his nickname almost sounds like a whimper as he runs his hands on the back of your thighs.
"You okay?"- he asks, his fingertips dipping between your legs, touching your inner thighs as he gently starts massaging the flesh.
This is the last straw, your slick is now gushing out and you start feeling embarassed, wondering if he can see it or smell it.
"I-I'm fine."- you whimper as he keeps massaging your thighs.
"You sure?"- he asks, hands sliding up, close to your core and you lean into his touch as you grip the sheets.
"N-no."- you whimper.
"What's wrong?"- Felix smirks, fingertips brushing your asscheeks.
"I- um... I'm horny."- you turn your head sideways to look at him and he hovers over you.
"I know. You're kinda obvious."- he says and you whine.
"You did this on purpose."- you say as he runs his hands on your lower back and waist, making you shiver constantly as you feel ten times more sensitive than usually.
"Would you hate me if I did?"- he bites on his lip, his eyes big and pleading.
"No."- you whisper.
"You want me to continue?"- he asks and you nod.
"Please."
"How about a special massage?"- his voice is low as he slowly removes the towel. "Do I have your permission, angel?"
"Yeah."- you say, legs spreading slightly as you lift up your middle just a bit so he can touch you properly.
Felix groans at you presenting your wetness to him, your forehead buried in the pillow again as you anticipate his touches.
His hands are on your ass, as he gropes and massages them before his fingertips dip between your legs, sliding through your wet folds.
"L-Lixie."- you whimper as he touches you teasingly, fingers gently rubbing around your pussy and towards your other hole, down to your inner thighs again.
You push back into him and he gently grabs your hip.
"Don't move, my honey bee."- he says and you snort.
"Alright, pumpkin pie."- you retort.
"Let me do all the work, you just relax."- he says, fingers sliding through your dripping folds repeatedly, making you clench around nothing constantly, before he finally presses into your clit.
"Mm."- you moan when he starts sliding the pads of his fingers up and down your clit, swollen with arousal and coated in your slick.
You moan quietly as Felix keeps massaging your sensitive clit slowly, up and down, left and right and then circling it and gently pinching it, occasionally dipping his fingertips into your cunt to gather more of your arousal.
You've never had anyone touch you this gently, it was usually a guy just flicking your clit fast when you're about to cum and while that does feel nice, this was a different kind of nice.
You felt tortured in a good way, like Felix was constantly dangling your orgasm in front of your eyes but never letting you get to it.
So much arousal kept gushing out of your pussy that for a moment you thought you were cumming as he kept pressing his fingers into your clit, playing your body expertly, like he's done this many times before.
"Lix- I wanna cum."- you whimper.
"I know love, but be patient. Just a bit more, I promise it's gonna feel amazing."- he coos at you, fingers working your nub faster and with more pressure.
You push back into him again and he grabs your hip as he starts flicking your swollen clit fast.
"Lixie, ah!"- you whine loudly, your slick coating his hand.
"I need you inside me!"- you add, holding onto the sheets.
"Mhm, later. I know you can cum just from this."- he says, as you keep jolting and whining.
You can't believe it's happening but your orgasm hits you like a wave, as you spill onto his hand, moaning loudly as he keeps massaging your sensitive nub.
"Oh fuck!"- you whimper when he slides his fingers to your folds.
"Interested in a deeper massage?"- his voice is low and dark as he leans down to your ear, making goosebumps rise on your skin.
"Mm, please Lixie."- you moan.
He slowly pushes two of his fingers into your sopping cunt, taking him in greedily as you were so relaxed and ready to receive.
Felix adjusts his position between your legs and it doesn't take him long to find your gummy spot.
"Lix!"- you groan when he starts gently fucking into it.
"Feels good?"- he asks, his lips brushing your ear as he scissors you open.
"Heavenly."- you moan out as he fucks you slowly, effectively massaging your walls, making your pussy clench on his fingers constantly, begging for more.
"Just relax."- he says as you keep pushing back on his hand, slowly fucking yourself on his fingers.
"I said relax."- he chuckles, lightly smacking your ass.
You gasp, calming down immediately, surprised by his commanding tone and actions.
You never thought your shy Felix would be handling you like this as you present yourself to him, to use you freely as he wants.
But all he actually wants is to bring you pleasure like you've never felt before, making sure to ruin every man for you so you only belong to him.
Eventually he speeds up, his fingers perfectly hitting your sweet spot and driving you insane, as you drip around him, the wet sounds are so loud that it makes you feel even more aroused.
Felix leans down and unexpectedly starts kissing and gently biting the flesh on your ass as he holds your hip and ruts his fingers fast into you.
"Ah, ah, Lix- Lixie, ah! Felix!"- you moan desperately as you tremble, squirting a fountain as he keeps on fucking into you, prolonging your orgasm as much as he can, teeth sinking into your flesh as you squirm under him.
"Oh..."- you're speechles when he pulls out, you can't feel your legs and your ears are ringing.
"You with me, angel?"- Felix hovers above you as he caresses your head gently.
"That was the best orgasm ever."- you exhale.
"Told you I wanna make you feel better."- he smirks, hearing you praise him boosts his ego and makes his cock twitch and throb painfully inside his tight boxers.
"Is there more?"- you chuckle making him laugh and he gently turns you to lay on your back.
"If you want, I can offer more special massages."- he smirks as his eyes roam all over your body, his hands squeezing your thighs and massaging them gently.
You look down to see his dick straining in his pants.
He follows your eyes and looks down too, just as you hook your fingers in his pants.
"I want your cock, Lixie."- you say as you slowly slide his pants down.
"You do?"- he looks a bit surprised and you giggle.
"Mhm."- you say as you finally free him.
"Oh."- you gasp. "You're a grower."- you add with a smirk.
"Oh shut up."- he looks embarassed suddenly and you start giggling again.
"Come here and kiss me first."- you say and his eyes soften as he leans down to kiss you sloppily, your tongues crashing against each other, his heavy cock pressed against you.
"So pretty."- you bit on his lip as your hands wrap around his length.
"What, my cock?"- he chuckles.
"Mhm. Want it so bad."- you whimper, and Felix groans lowly.
"You can have it, angel. Anything you need."- he says as he slowly pushes inside you.
"Mm. More."- your legs wrap around him, making him hit deeper as he keeps pushing his length inside you until he fills you up to the brim.
"Feeling relaxed?"- he asks, his hand coming up to brush your hair behind your ear and gently touch your face.
"Mhm, I have no thoughts at all."- you give him a smile and he chuckles quietly.
"Then, let's keep it that way."- he says as he slowly starts sliding his cock against your walls.
Felix keeps working hard to make you satisified and relaxed, to get you into a state of pure bliss, even if it means putting his own pleasure at the back shelf as he makes you cum on his cock over and over again.
He fucks you until you're shaking and crying, gripping at his biceps and clawing at his back, whimpering how sensitive you are, your pussy sloppy and shaped to fit his cock, which is when he finally lets go, cumming inside you hard, filling you up with his hot cum.
And when you fall asleep in his arms, a small blissful smile on your face, Felix knows he has accomplished his mission.
And he will do it again in a heartbeat, anything to make you feel better.
✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger
#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids#stray kids smut#lee felix x reader#lee felix smut#skz fluff#skz smut#lee felix#lee felix x y/n#felix x reader#felix smut#skz felix smut#lee felix scenarios#lee felix imagines#lee felix fluff#lee felix x you#skz felix fluff#lee felix hard thoughts#lee felix hard hours
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hearts aligned
description: you and your roommate spencer reid have always been there for each other. one night he comes back from work and you two discover a different side to your dynamic.
pairing: roomate!spencer reid x fem!reader
contains: fluff!! mutual pining, typical criminal minds violence, reader is described as having shoulder length hair
song rec: fallen star by the nbhd- "you're in my dna, i can't keep away no matter how hard i try"
w.c: 2.7k
an: *sob* i love him.
it was a mundane tuesday evening, the kind that bled into the fabric of the week seamlessly. the apartment was quiet, the only sound the hum of the refrigerator echoing through the hallway. the soft glow of the living room lamp cast a warm, buttery light, a stark contrast to the deepening shadows outside the window. you sat cross-legged on the couch, your nose buried in a well-worn paperback, the plot weaving in and out of your consciousness like a gentle stream.
the sound of the lock turning brought your head up with a jolt, the bookmark slipping from your fingers to land silently on the carpet. spencer reid, your roommate, stepped inside, his eyes weary but a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. his gaze swept the room before settling on you, the surprise in his eyes unmistakable. "you're still up," he murmured, his voice a gentle rumble that seemed to shake the very air.
you closed the book with a soft thud and gave him a warm smile. "yeah, i had some trouble sleeping," you admitted, your voice a little hoarse from the quiet of the night. "do you want some tea?" you offered, already pushing to your feet. his nod was all the encouragement you needed as you padded into the kitchen, the cold tiles a stark contrast to the warmth of the living room. while the water heated, you listened to the soft thud of his shoes against the floor as he moved towards his room, the jingle of his keys a familiar lullaby.
but when you turned with the steaming mug in hand, you found him hovering in the doorway, watching you. "you know, i can do that," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "i don't mind, really." his voice was gentle, a hint of concern lacing his words.
you paused, the ceramic warm against your palms, and studied him for a moment. his tie was askew, his shirt wrinkled from a long day's work, and his hair, normally a neat cap of chocolate waves, was disheveled. "you've had a long day," you said, your voice firm but kind. "just sit." you gestured to the stool at the kitchen island, the one that faced the stove where you were already setting out ingredients for a simple meal. "i'll make us something light."
he hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "alright," he conceded, his shoulders slumping slightly as he took a seat. the fabric of his pants whispered against the leather of the stool as he settled in, his eyes never leaving you as you moved with an easy grace around the kitchen. you could feel the weight of his gaze, a warm presence that made your cheeks flush, and your heart stutter in your chest.
you filled a pan with oil, the faint sizzle as it heated up a comforting sound. "so, how was work today?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual despite the sudden thrum of anticipation that had taken root in your veins.
spencer took a sip of his tea, his eyes thoughtful. "it was… interesting," he said, his gaze drifting over the steaming liquid. "but i'd rather not talk about that right now," he added, his voice a low murmur. "do you mind if we talk about something else?"
you nodded, setting aside the knife you were using to chop vegetables. "of course," you said, wiping your hands on a dishtowel. "what do you want to talk about?"
spencer leaned against the counter, his expression pensive. "tell me about your day," he said, his eyes searching yours. "i feel like i never get to hear about it."
you felt a flutter in your stomach. "it was…normal," you said, the words feeling almost rehearsed. "work, errands, the usual."
spencer's gaze remained steady, a hint of curiosity lighting his eyes. "anything exciting happen?"
you couldn't help but chuckle at his persistence. "well, if you consider accidentally matching my socks with my shirt 'exciting,' then yes, it was quite the thriller," you said with a wry smile.
his eyes lit up with amusement, the corners of his mouth twitching. "i see," he said, his voice teasing. "that does sound like a tale for the ages."
you rolled your eyes playfully, the tension in the room easing a notch. "it was definitely a fashion statement," you quipped, tossing a chopped carrot into the pan. the sizzle filled the air, the scent of garlic and onions mingling with the warmth of the kitchen.
spencer set his tea aside, leaning closer. "i'm sure it was," he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "but really, anything interesting happen?"
you met his gaze, a sudden realization dawning. "you know what, spencer?" you said, your voice earnest. "right now, this moment, is the most interesting thing that's happened to me all day." his eyes widened slightly, and you could see the wheels turning in his head. "just being here, with you, talking about nothing in particular… it's nice."
his cheeks colored slightly, and he ducked his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "it is," he agreed, his voice barely above a whisper. "i don't get to do this very often."
you cocked your head to the side, studying him. "what do you mean?"
he shrugged, his eyes darting to the floor. "i spend so much time working, or reading, or… just in my own head," he admitted. "i don't get to just sit and talk with people. not like this."
you felt a warmth spread through you, a sense of connection that was more profound than any conversation you'd had with him before. "i'm always here, you know," you said softly, the words slipping out before you could second guess them. "if you ever need someone to talk to, or just to sit with."
his eyes snapped back up to yours, the surprise in them clear. "i know," he said, his voice a little gruff. "i just… i don't want to burden you."
you set the spatula down, moving closer to him. "you're not a burden, spencer," you said, your voice firm. "you're my roommate. and if you ever need anything, i'm here."
his eyes searched yours, the depth of his gaze sending a shiver down your spine. "i know," he repeated, his voice softer this time. "it's just… i don't want to take advantage."
you reached out, placing a hand on his forearm. "you could never take advantage," you assured him, your thumb stroking a gentle circle against his skin. "we're friends, we're supposed to be here for each other."
spencer's eyes dropped to where your hand rested, the warmth of your touch seeping into his bones. "i know that," he murmured. "but i also know that you have your own life, your own things to deal with."
you gave his arm a gentle squeeze before retreating to the stove, the comforting dance of cooking resuming as if the moment had never happened. "and you're part of my life," you said, your back to him. "so, what's one more thing?"
spencer watched you for a moment, his eyes tracing the curve of your back, the way your hair fell in soft waves down to your shoulders. he took a deep breath, the scent of the simmering food filling his nostrils. "what's your favorite memory?" he asked, his voice a little rough.
you glanced over your shoulder, a smile playing on your lips. "just one?" you teased, turning back to the stove. "that's a tough one." you stirred the contents of the pan, the spices releasing a symphony of aromas into the air. "but if i had to pick, it would be the first time we moved in together."
spencer's eyes lit up, the memory obviously a good one. "that was… chaotic," he said with a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the edges. "but also… nice."
you nodded, your smile growing. "i remember being so nervous," you said, the words bringing a warm rush of nostalgia. "i didn't know what to expect, moving in with someone i'd only met only once before."
spencer's gaze grew distant, his mind traveling back to that fateful day. "i was the same," he admitted. "i had this whole speech prepared about how we should respect each other's space and keep things clean, but when i saw you, it all just… disappeared."
you turned to face him, your eyes wide with surprise. "really?"
he nodded, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. "i know it sounds ridiculous, but you just… you made me feel comfortable. like i could be myself around you."
you felt your heart swell at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. "i felt the same way," you admitted, your voice a little shaky. "i remember walking in and seeing all these boxes, and thinking 'what have i gotten myself into?'" you laughed, the sound a little too loud in the quiet kitchen. "but then you looked up from your book, and you just… you were so genuine, so welcoming."
spencer's smile grew, his eyes a soft brown in the muted light. "i've never regretted that decision," he said, his voice earnest. "you make this place feel like home."
you blinked, the sudden weight of his words settling in your stomach. "i'm… i'm happy to hear that," you said, your voice a little breathless.
spencer pushed himself off the stool, the sound of it scraping against the tile floor breaking the silence. he took a step closer to you, the warmth of his body radiating like a small sun. "i mean it," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "you're the best roommate i could ever ask for."
you swallowed hard, the heat of the stove behind you seemingly nothing compared to the warmth in front of you. "thank you," you whispered, your hand still clutching the spatula. "you're pretty great too."
his smile grew, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "yeah?" he asked, his voice hopeful.
you nodded, feeling your heart race. "yes," you said, turning back to the stove to give yourself a moment to compose. "you're always there when i need you, and you put up with my terrible cooking."
spencer chuckled, moving closer to peer into the pan. "i wouldn't say it's terrible," he said, his eyes twinkling. "just… adventurous."
you shot him a playful glare, but couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up. "adventurous, huh?" you said, shaking your head. "i'll take that as a compliment."
spencer stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently take the spatula from your grip. "i'll help," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. the air between you felt charged, the tension thick and palpable. your heart was racing, each beat echoing in your ears like the tick of a clock counting down to something you hadn't quite anticipated.
you let him take over, watching as his long, slender fingers deftly stirred the sizzling mixture. "i've been meaning to tell you something," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "i know we've been roommates for a while now, but… i've started to realize that i might like you a little more than just a friend."
you froze, the heat from the stove forgotten. your eyes searched his, looking for any sign of uncertainty or jest, but all you found was sincerity. "spencer," you began, but he held up a hand to stop you.
"i know it's weird," he said, his voice rushing out like a river that had been dammed for too long. "and i know we're friends, and roommates, but… i can't ignore it anymore."
you stared at him, your thoughts racing faster than the cars on the street outside. "spencer," you breathed, his name a question, a declaration, a plea all rolled into one. your hand hovered in the space between you, unsure of where to land.
his eyes searched yours, the warmth of his hand as he took the spatula a silent promise. "i know," he continued, his voice a little shaky. "but i can't help it. every time i come home and you're here, waiting for me, it's like… it's like coming home to a piece of sunshine."
you felt your heart stutter in your chest, the words resonating deep within you. "spencer," you whispered, the name a prayer on your lips. "i… i feel the same way." the words hung in the air, a soft confession that seemed to illuminate the kitchen with a gentle glow.
his eyes searched yours, a hopeful spark lighting them up. "you do?" he asked, his voice tentative, as if he was afraid to believe.
you nodded, your own heart racing. "yes," you said, your voice clear and firm. "i've liked you for a while now. i just didn't know how to tell you." the admission felt like a weight lifting off your chest, leaving you feeling lighter than air.
spencer's smile grew, a genuine, boyish grin that made your heart flutter. "really?" he asked, his voice filled with wonder.
you nodded, your cheeks flushing a soft pink. "yes," you whispered, your eyes never leaving his. "i just didn't want to mess things up."
spencer set the spatula down, the clatter against the pan a jolting sound in the quiet kitchen. "you could never mess things up," he said, his voice a soft promise. "not with me."
you took a step closer, the warmth of his body drawing you in like a magnet. "are you sure?" you asked, your voice a little shaky.
he nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "i've never been more sure of anything in my life," he said, his voice a low murmur. "you make me feel… alive, in a way i haven't felt in a long time."
you felt your breath catch in your throat, the confession so raw and honest that it was like a punch to the gut. "spencer," you whispered, reaching out to touch his cheek. your fingertips traced the line of his jaw, feeling the rough stubble beneath your fingertips.
his eyes searched yours, the question in them unspoken but clear. "what are we going to do?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine.
you took a deep breath, the scent of the food on the stove forgotten. "i don't know," you admitted, your voice a little shaky. "i just know that i don't want to ignore this anymore."
spencer reached up, his hand covering yours on his cheek. "neither do i," he murmured, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. "i don't want to pretend it's not there."
you stepped closer, your hand sliding down to cup his face fully. "then let's not," you said, your voice a little tremulous. "let's see where this goes."
his eyes searched yours for a moment before he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours tentatively. it was a gentle touch, a question that hung in the air between you, waiting for an answer. you responded with a sigh, your arms wrapping around his neck as you deepened the kiss. his hands found your waist, pulling you closer, the warmth of his body a comforting embrace that seemed to fit you perfectly.
the world outside the kitchen faded away, the only sounds the faint crackle of the stove and the thud of your hearts beating in sync. the kiss grew more urgent, more passionate, as if you were both trying to make up for lost time. your hands tangled in his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingers like silk.
you two broke apart, breathless, your eyes searching each other's for any sign of doubt or regret. but all you saw was a reflection of your own feelings - a wild, unbridled hope that seemed to set the room alight. spencer's chest rose and fell in time with yours, his eyes dark with want.
"i've wanted to do that for so long," he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper that sent shivers down your spine.
you nodded, your eyes searching his. "i know," you said, your voice just as soft. "me too."
his thumb traced the curve of your lower lip, his gaze never leaving yours. "are we… are we okay?" he asked, his voice a little unsteady.
you nodded, your heart racing. "yes," you breathed, the word a soft promise. "we're more than okay."
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Hi there! I'm crazy about your stories about Feyd!! Truly brillant!! I've sren your accettino requests...wanted to know if you could a Feyd x reader where they are married and she let him keep the harpies. One day, while Feyd is in a council, reader gets attacked or someone tries to have his way with her and she's saved by the harpies, who kills the man and than take her to their room to care for her, and when Feyd arrives he reward them or something....you choose the endind.
Thankss
Protecting His
Feyd-Rautha x reader
Warnings/Notes: I made it a little bit different, so I hope that's ok. Mention of attempted assault, but it is not detailed. Goes with my His series, but you don't have to read it before reading this. I know this could've been smutty, but idk, the inspiration just didn't take it that route.
Words: 1360
Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list
“I apologize, my Lady,” the harpy says as she dabs alcohol along the fresh slash on your forehead. “It’ll only be a minute more.”
Your chuckle is a weak breath of air. “You saved me. The last thing you need to do is apologize,” you tell her.
She briefly pauses her work before continuing. “Our Lord na-Baron will not understand,” she says.
She’s probably right. Red will be blinding his vision. It’s enough that a guest in your home—an invited guest, a welcomed guest—tried to take advantage of you in a moment when you showed him kindness, but a plethora of additional factors will only heighten your husband’s fury: the fact that you allowed yourself to be alone with another man, even though that was against your intention; the fact that that man touched you and tried to do more; the fact that you’re bleeding because of it; and the fact that Feyd wasn’t the one to protect you, and in his place, one of the harpies was forced to step in. As if they weren’t in enough trouble already.
He’s been deciding what to do with them for days now, trying to figure out if they have enough use elsewhere to be worth keeping alive, but he’s been coming up short, and you know their fates at the hands of your husband are unlikely to be forgiving.
They’d been so good for so long, so well-trained after they tried to take a bite out of you—literally—as you slept by Feyd’s side almost a year ago to the day. That act of disobedience cost them each a finger, but from learning their lesson, they eventually became trustworthy enough for Feyd to assign them as your handmaids. And they maintained the position until the unfortunate incident of one of them losing control.
She tried to take a nibble out of your flesh, and worse, in a moment when you were holding your newborn son. When Feyd learned of this, he lost his mind. Though the harpy acted alone, Feyd banished the three to the other side of the fortress and took the hand of the harpy who tried to have you for her next meal—this harpy.
You stare at the stump, a bandage replacing where pale, delicate fingers used to be. She’s lost enough. It’s not right that she suffer a lash to the neck simply for being within range of you. It’s not right that Feyd’s rage will have him do the same to the other two.
“I’ll make him understand,” you promise her as she covers the cut with a strip of tape, and as if on cue, your husband practically blows the door down with the force of a hurricane.
His eyes land on you and soften with worry at your injured state. They reharden as they find the harpy at your side. “What did she do!” he snaps.
You quickly rise to your feet, ignoring the dizziness that slightly blurs your vision, and place yourself between him and the harpy. “She saved me.”
He rushes toward her, but with your hands pressing into his chest, you keep him at bay. “She tried to harm you not a week ago!”
“And now she saved me.”
Feyd sucks in a breath through his nose, his shoulders rising and falling, his chest puffing and deflating. His eyes fall to your face. His brow knits as his hands cup your cheeks. He presses a long kiss to your lips, then says, “Are you ok?”
“Yes,” you say. “He would’ve done more if she hadn’t been there.”
“I gave explicit orders—”
“I know,” you intercept. “But would you rather a dead wife?”
It’s a blow. Not a wise one, considering he almost lost you during the birth of your son, but it’s reality. You could’ve died tonight. The man that wanted to hurt you wouldn’t have kept you alive to name him after the fact, whether you’re the na-Baron’s wife or not. He’s much too high-ranking, and without your voice there to reveal his lies, he could’ve pinned the crime on anyone.
Feyd’s hands drop from your face, and during your husband's brief placation, you glance over your shoulder at the harpy. “It’s best you go back to your cell now. A guard will escort you.”
She bows her head. “Yes, my Lady,” she says before she treads lightly around you and your husband to the door.
Only once she’s gone and Feyd has settled into his seat at the foot of the bed do you say, “Don’t kill her.”
His head snaps up. “You will not tell me what to do.”
“I’m asking.”
“Why?”
You snort. “Isn’t it obvious?”
Feyd crosses his arms over his chest. “Are you teasing me at a time like this? Your life–” His eyelids pinch and he shakes his head. “You could’ve–”
With a sigh, you move to sit beside him on the mattress. “I’m fine,” you tell him. “But you cannot punish her for saving your wife. It’s not right.”
He pauses in his contemplation before he says, “What was she even doing on this side of the fortress?”
“She said she wanted to apologize to me and that you wouldn’t permit it, so she snuck over,” you answer. “You could’ve at least let her do that much.”
“I couldn’t risk it,” he lightly snaps. “I couldn’t risk you and the baby.”
When your hand lands on his forearm, he takes your fingers between his. “And they don’t have to be around us ever again if that’s what you want, but please reconsider hurting them further. They were always kind to me and–”
“Except when they tried to steal you from me to eat,” he reminds you.
“Yes, well, they were more kind than uncontrollably hungry.”
Feyd stares at you long and hard. His thumb rubs back and forth over yours. “You’re serious.”
You give a single decisive nod. “I am.”
—
When Feyd unlocks the cell door and steps inside, two of the harpies skitter across the floor to Feyd’s feet. They paw at the ankles of his pants. One’s head nuzzles the toe of his boot. He pays them little attention, his eyes on the hunt for the one tucked in the corner against the stone wall. She shies away from the blazing ray of his glare.
“My Lord, we are very sorry for what our sister did,” the first harpy says—the eldest, the tallest of the three. It is most fascinating to see her so low. She tightens her fingers into the pants fabric, but Feyd kicks her off, and her entire body jolts back like a creature freshly injured.
“So very sorry,” the second, who has backed away alongside her sister, mimics.
“Please spare–”
“Hush, I’m not in the mood,” Feyd scolds.
“Y-You will kill us?”
Feyd finally tears his stare from the huddled harpy to the ones by his feet. “You can pray to the kindness of my wife that I will not be,” he says. “You,” he juts his head back to the other. “You get a reward that I expect you to share with your sisters.”
Her head lifts from where it was resting atop her knees. Her dark eyes widen a touch.
“A reward?” one of the others says.
“For us?”
Feyd gives a curt nod to the guard behind him, and a moment later, the man who attempted to take you against your will is tossed into the room. Already battered and bruised, he remains face down on the cobblestone flooring. A groan escapes through his lips, but that and the slightly pinkish hue of his skin from whatever blood remains in his veins is all there is as proof of life.
“A meal,” Feyd says. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
The three glance at the body and then back up at Feyd. He doesn’t say another word as he turns on his heel and signals his guard to relock the cage. He doesn’t look back as the screams begin to echo through the dank halls. He has better things to do, like tending to his wife. It’s been a long day, after all, and she could use the comfort.
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You're a racewinner (Lando Norris)
The one where Lando won his first Formula One race
Note: english is not my first language. That race took years out of my life and all of the tears out of me, but I couldn't not do something for this moment ✨️
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Cw: alludes to smut at the end, curse words
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3
"Baby, can you come here and help me, please?", Lando called from the hotel bathroom, "I can't place this quite right".
Getting the plaster from your boyfriend's fingers, you fiddled with it a little before holding Lando's jaw so he could face you properly, "stay still,", you whispered, applying the sterile material on his nose cut with a tender touch.
"Thank you, lovie", Lando mumbled once you peeled both hands away from his face, pecking your lips, "couldn't help myself when I have your beautiful face so close to mine", he snickered.
Shaking your head at his capacity of turning you into mush, you pecked his nose gently, "are you going to play padel the whole afternoon?", you wondered.
"I'm not sure, I think so - we have dinner reservations downstairs though, Will, Mark and Oscar said they'd join us as well", he offered.
"Okay", you nodded, grabbing your laptop so you could get on with work at the desk in your room.
"Do you have a lot of work to do today, angel?", he asked, kissing your naked shoulder as he looked at the screen. For his life, he couldn't understand half of what you had written in there, let alone actually do any of the smart tasks you had in there.
"It's not too bad - it's the administrative boring stuff that I actually enjoy doing", you admitted. There wasn't much to it, and while your colleagues found it boring, you found comfort on the sequential and system like steps.
"I'm going then - call me if you need anything, okay?", he kissed the top of your head, "I love you".
"I love you too, Lan - enjoy yourself!", you kissed him back before he grabbed his things and left the room.
It certainly wasn't something you did for every race, but whenever it did, you'd fly in earlier with Lando and work remotely whenever he had his own duties and activities.
After King's Day, you and Lando flew over to Miami, the sunshine greeting you to contrast with the gloomy days you had back home. Warm weather always made you feel happier and you welcomed the golden hues on your skin after spending the first two days basking in eachother's presence by the pool and walks along the beach.
By the time Lando came back, he was met with you putting your laptop back into your backpack, "all done for today, beautiful?".
"Yes - for the week actually! There was a meeting that was cancelled and the other was pushed for next week, so I went ahead with the rest and it's all done!", you smiled, "I was about to shower when you texted saying that you were on your way back".
"You were waiting for me? Such a good girl", Lando whispered on your ear after wrapping his arms around your towell covered body, "let's go then", he pulled you with him.
After a shower filled with soft touches that were a thin line away from teasing, you both got ready for dinner, meeting the rest of the group at the restaurant.
"Are you ready for tomorrow?", Mark asked Lando once you were already enjoying your meal.
"What's tomorrow?", you questioned.
"I'm going the yoga class with Hilton - actually, you can come to that now that you don't have the meeting anymore", your boyfriend suggested, "you're a good... yoga practising person".
"That one on the beach? Am I allowed to go?", you asked. You wouldn't mind having a muscle stretching session.
"I'm sure they can put a mat down for you", Mark offered, "I'll text them about it".
"Lando will just get distracted by you and fall on his face - at least you can add to that plaster", Oscar joked before taking a sip of his water and earning himself a kick in the shin from your boyfriend.
.
"My girlfriend is actually quite good - I asked her to teach me some of this stuff because i didn't want to be too bad at it", Lando admitted, winking at you while he dusted the sand off of his fingers.
So far, the class was one of the funniest videos you've ever watched Lando record. He was really taking on the job and the part seriously, answering Alli with all of the lines you had told him about yesterday. Since you were sitting further at the back, you could giggle freely at his antics, stealing quick looks from eachother every chance you could.
"Look at this excellent form!", Alli complimented as she watched the rest of the class.
"She's talking about me, not you guys - me!", Lando chirped in as he stretched his arms up.
"Now this one is really good to stretch your hips", Ali added as she moved into a different position.
"Work on this one, lovie!", Lando shouted at you, "but be careful, okay?", he ensured as he looked to see if you were doing it well.
"I'm good, Lan, thank you!", you giggled, shaking your head before changing your feet position on the mat.
"Are you afraid of the sand?", Alli asked.
"I don't like the sand, no", Lando snickered, swatting the grains away from his hands, "Y/N will tell you all about it since she's always making fun of me because of it - she's lucky she's cute otherwise I might get mad", he argued half jokingly.
As the crew tidied the area, Lando crept up behind you, hugging your waist and pulling you to his chest, "did you like it, love?".
"It was nice, yes - my back and hips feel better actually", you smiled, resting your hands on top of his around your tummy.
"That's good", he placed a soft kiss on your neck, "how about we go and take advantage of that then?", he whispered.
"Lan, we're outside and we were doing yoga!", you scolded softly despite the goosebumps erupting on your skin. The warm Miami air didn't have anything to do with that reaction, so Lando knew you were just as bad as he was.
"We'll go to our room, of course - you look so good in these leggings and this top", he turned you around to face his chest, his hands grabbing a handful of your hips and butt, "I can tell you want it too", he smirked.
Playing coy, you fiddled with the string of his hoodie. How he was wearing it under this sun and warmth, you had no idea, but it would be a plus to touch and admire his body underneath it.
"You don't need to do anything else?", you asked. Despite your desire, you would never do anything that go between his work duties.
"No, I'm free for the rest of the day", he smiled.
As soon as you got the okay to leave and call it a day, Lando was a man on a mission to spoil you and let you lose yourselves in eachother.
.
Media day was usually the quietest day, but given the media and celebrity attention the paddock got for this Grand Prix, it was quite packed and action filled.
"Hello handsome", you greeted Lando once he came to meet you in the lounge for some lunch.
"I'm tired and I haven't done any racing yet", he muttered, "the social media team made me film this video which I think you'll like", he said, getting his phone from his pocket and showing it to you.
"Aren't we full of ourselves, hm? It's a video of your handsome face", you pointed out teasingly, kissing his cheek before watching it again.
"Are you saying you don't like it? If you didn't like it, you wouldn't have watched it again and again", Lando tickled, ending up having to hold your back so you wouldn't fall to the ground.
"You look very handsome, baby", you agreed with him, catching your breath as you sat on his lap.
"We also met Jimmy Butler and the team brought one of the trophies out - it was so cool, look!", he showed you on his phone, flickering through his gallery.
.
The first sprint qualifying session gave the team a 1-2, followed by Lando's pole position for the second session was applauded by everyone in the garage, "I'm not sure how it's going to be with the compound change though, but everyone else is also changing so we'll see", Mark observed.
The car seemed to skid away slightly, the grip level from the new tire not allowing Lando a smooth turn as you watched his on-board for the third and last qualifying session.
"I'm happy with everything, just not one thing", you heard Lando say in the post qualifying interviews.
You didn't get to see him before he went to the media pen, so you couldn't whisper sweet words to him before he went out there. Not that he would listen to them too much anyway. If there was something you learned over the years is that you should let him come to you, no matter how much you wanted to hold him in your arms.
He was always too hard on himself and it was no different after this qualifying. You waited around for him, chatting with some of the team members while you did so to pass the time.
"Lando!", you waved, calling him so he could notice you.
"I need to go to my driver's room", he offered his hand out for you to hold and follow him.
Once you were inside, you wrapped your arms around Lando's neck, kissing his neck multiple times and rubbing his back.
"I can't believe I did that? Not even a rookie would've done that shitshow, it's like I forgot how to drive", Lando muttered, shaking his head.
"Everyone struggled with the grip Lando, they were either eating up their tires or squiding away", you reasoned with him, "I don't think any of the guys thought they had a good lap".
"Mine surely wasn't", Lando scoffed.
"Hey, look at me", you said sternly, cupping his face in your hands to make sure he wasn't looking elsewhere.
You had to let him come to you, but that didn't mean you couldn't give him a piece of your mind first.
"You have been with this team since you were a kid, Lando, and everyone inside this hospitality is rooting for you, bad day or good day, everyone has your back, and as well as you don't win on your own, you don't lose or get a bad result on your own. Everyone out there is supporting you and no one thinks you're a failure or a bad driver", you stated.
You knew what was going on inside his head, Lando reasoned with himself - there was no point in lying to you or saying that he wasn't feeling like that when you could practically read him like a book.
"You're only as good as your last race, Y/N that's how this sport works", Lando offered.
"Then let's make this one count - the weekend has barely begun", you rubbed his cheek.
"I have to go to debrief", Lando mumbled, looking down before he pressed a kiss on your forehead.
"I love you, thank you", he whispered, squeezing your wrists before kissing them too.
"I love you too, all of you and everything that you do", you winked before he left his driver's room.
As soon as all of his duties were taken care of, you went back to the hotel, deciding to stay in for the night after a long shower.
"Come here so I can play with your hair and magically pull away all of those bad thoughts going on inside there", you smiled, finally sitting down on the bed.
Lando didn't want to seem needy or clingy, but every time you reached for the body moisturiser to scoop some of it out and rub it on your skin, he felt himself deflate a little, having to wait a little more to be able to touch you.
Crawling to your hold, your boyfriend rested his head on your chest as his arms circled your waist, feeling your fingers do as you had told him.
"Do you think tomorrow will be better?", he muttered.
"I don't know for sure, but I hope so", you answered honestly, "you deserve a good result tomorrow, you deserve all the good things, love", you added.
"I don't deserve you", he mumbled, looking up at you.
"You do, Lando", you kissed his forehead.
"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me", he stated, "whether I deserve you or not is another ballgame, but I hope you never leave me".
"It's not on my plans, no", you chuckled despite the seriousness of your words, "do you know what is though? Sleep, because tomorrow you have a big day", you kissed his lips, "go to sleep, baby".
"I love you, baby - sweet dreams", Lando whispered.
"They always are when you're here with me", you murmured.
.
"Fucking hell", you groaned, "is he staying out?", you wondered outloud.
The team radio with the veredict came in quickly, deciding that the risk they would be getting into by continuing the race and potentially worsening whatever damage the car had was not worth the points that would be up for grabs. Like so, they would retire the car, so Lando jumped out of the car and crossed the track.
"He shouldn't have done that", you muttered, noticing the other people around you looking at you curiously. Most of them were paddock guests who you had never seen before, so you excused yourself as politely as you could, waiting for Lando to come back from the pitwall and into the garage.
He exchanged a few words with the team before he approached you.
"I'm sorry it didn't go the way you wanted - do you want me to fight anyone?", you tried to get a smile out of him.
"Sometimes these things happen, there was nothing I could do", he kissed your forehead, "they're bringing the car back but it seems to have not been that bad - I was worried about the suspension damage but it doesn't look too bad from what they can see on the computer", he offered, "I need to go to the media pen, lovie".
"Go go, I'll be here if you need anything", you smiled, feeling him squeeze your hand in his before he found the team member he was supposed to go with.
A couple of hours later, race qualifying rolled around and despite P5 still being a good position, you could see that Lando was struggling a little bit and he would surely blame himself on his lack of skills.
"Is he coming straight here or the media pen?", Ria asked you.
"I'm not sure", you mumbled, looking around to check for any signs of where your boyfriend would be headed.
When Lando came back to the garage, you were the first person he looked for.
"Hello hello", he said, squeezing your hand once more before greeting the rest of the group.
"That was not bad, P5 means a lot is up for grabs still", you tried, not really sensing the mood he was in which was unusual for you.
"It felt better yesterday, we still have to check about the changes we made and decided what to keep and what to undo", Lando offered without a prominent emotion on his tone.
"I'll be here when you're back", you told him.
"I still have the debrief and I'm staying as long as I can", he stated, "you can go to the hotel if you want to".
"I'll wait here", you kissed his cheek before letting him go.
His mood wasn't the greatest, but it wasn't the worst you had ever seen it, so you had to make do for now. Getting your book from your bag, you went up to find yourself a spot in the lounge since Ria told you they would be going back to the hotel.
"Are you ready to go?", Lando announced his presence a couple of hours later, stepping closer to you with his backpack on his back already.
"Yes", you said, putting the book back and getting up, "What is that?", you wondered as you pointed to the envelope on his hand.
"A fine for crossing the track - twenty-five thousand euros because I got out on my own, and it's that little if I don't do anything else again", he shook his head, "do you want to have dinner out or in the room?".
"Whichever way you prefer, handsome", you replied earnestly.
"Are you doing it because you feel pity for me? Is that why you're that quiet and following my lead to whatever I say?", he mused, letting his insecurities get the best of him, "because I told you, it happens and I'm fine".
"It could never be out of pity when it is, always, out of love, Lando", you smiled, pecking his lips and heading to the car so you could make your way back to the hotel.
.
Lando woke up earlier than he expected considering how tired he had been, sensing your even breathing pattern next to him. His mind filled with strategies, outcomes and potential situations that could arise, so he definitely wasn't sleeping until nightime.
"Good morning", you surprised him as he didn't think you were awake yet, your eyes greeting him as he turned around to face you.
"Good morning, lovie", he smiled, getting your hand from under the pillow and kissing your knuckles, "you're awake already?".
"Couldn't sleep anymore - you?", you mused.
"Same - means we can have some morning snuggles", Lando offered as he pulled you closer to him.
"Do you want to talk about the race?", you mumbled after you kissed his lips.
"You know me too well, don't you?", he chuckled, kissing you again while he traced patterns on your waist.
"We've been dating for nearly seven years - it would be a little weird if I didn't", you pursed your lips jokingly.
"I don't know, I keep thinking about all the things that can go wrong and what I can do in that situation - P5 isn't bad but I'm not sure I can extract all of it", he sighed.
"You're too hard on yourself", you mused, "there hasn't been a challenge that you didn't want to face, you never backed down from it and it's not something you're going to start doing now, baby", you stated.
"Do you think I have it?", he mused. He wasn't sure what it meant, but right now he didn't know anything.
"Of course you do, it will come to you, my love", you tried to build his confidence up, "you're such an amazing, skilled driver, you climbed up the ladder on your merit, and your team is backing you up. With some work there, that podium can be yours, Lando".
"I don't know", he tsked still.
"Well, I do know, so you'll have to trust me", you moved under the sheets, supporting your torso on your hands so you could hover over Lando, "this one is for when you'll start doubting yourself", you kissed above his left eyebrow, "this one is in case you need a little push", you kissed his right eyebrow, "this here is for good luck", you kissed his forehead, "this one here is because you are the best driver out there", you kissed his nose, "this one is for how much you deserve to be on that podium", you kissed his cheek, letting your eyelashes tickle him, "This is for the amazing person that you are", you kissed his jaw, "And this one is for how much I love you and how proud I am of you", you landed a kiss on his lips, letting yours melt into his to show you just how much you meant all those words.
Lando felt loved unconditionally. There were no better words to describe what he felt. No matter what he delivered on track, you were always there for him. To congratulate him when things went well and to comfort him when he needed. It didn't matter if he was P1 or P20, your love and affection was a constant in his life.
"I never want to know what life is like without you by my side", Lando cupped your cheek, rubbing the skin.
"I'm not going anywhere", you promised.
You stayed in bed until the alarm rang, then getting ready to go to the track. Lando kissed your temple before he went to the debrief meeting, leaving you to grab a cool drink to deal with the Miami heat.
"I love you, be safe out there", you smiled, kissing over his left eyebrow.
"I could do with a little more luck", he admitted, blood rushing to his cheeks as you stood on your tippy toes to kiss his forehead like you had that morning in bed.
Lando continued getting ready while you occupied your spot on the garage, giving him a little wave before he went to the grid.
"He seems hopeful today", Mark nudged your shoulder as he sat next to you, "I don't suppose you have something to do with it", he smirked.
"What do you mean?", you wondered.
"Yesterday he wasn't exactly cheerful, but he walked into the debrief saying that today was a day full of opportunities", he clarified.
"Just helped him see the other side of the coin", you blushed at his assumption.
The race got off to a bumpy start, making you hiss as soon as you watched the cars get through unharmed, "that was a close call", you muttered.
Just as Lando had set the fastest lap, you watched Max go outside of the track slightly and hit the cone and later giving Oscar first place since he needed to pit, "the car pace looks good, doesn't it?", Jon told you.
"Oscar is coming to the pit and Max is right behind Lando", you muttered as you heard your boyfriend's radio and watched the mechanics get ready with the new tires for Oscar.
By lap thirty, still under the safety car, Lando was the one to pit and you couldn't help but do the math, "He's going to come out at the front, isn't he?", you looked at Jon and Mark, wanting to check your calculations right.
"Yes, look at him go", Jon pointed to the screen.
From then on, your heart beat as fast as it ever had, your eyes focusing on the gap between Lando and Max as your leg bounced up and down.
"Y/N, you should take it easy", Jon said, "you're going to work yourself up and it won't be good", he noticed. The way your eyes watched the race combined with the heat, your innate lack of water intake and the way your blood pressure seemed to be going, his worry was genuine.
"Mas just said on his radio that he's struggling with his car", Mark said as he placed a hand on your shoulder.
"Don't jinx it, don't jinx it", you whispered as you looked at everyone else around you.
Everyone shared the nerves you felt, everyone held on to see what was happening while keeping an eye on Oscar's brilliant drive after all that came his way.
"Should have dated an accountant", you mumbled before getting up, pacing around the small area once you made sure you weren't annoying people too much and not blocking anyone's view, "my heart wouldn't be like this", you took a deep breath as the last five laps warning came on the screen.
"Love how Oscar is the one with the fastest lap all the way down there - it's such a shame, he deserved more", you pointed out in an attempt of distracting yourself.
"Three laps!", someone yelled.
As you saw the rush to the checkered flag and your boyfriend's car be the first one to cross it, the garage and pitwall erupted in celebration.
"HE WON! HE WON! LANDO WON!", you yelled, crying into your hands after the initial shock wore off, Mark and Jon hugging you as they celebrated, "this is amazing? Aren't you amazed?", you yelled.
Lando's screams and laughs filled your ears as you listened closely to your boyfriend's first reactions after crossing the finish line on his first win, the pout being replaced with a massive grin even though you were still crying happy tears, "we did it, Will! We did it!", he boasted.
Once you were allowed, you joined the rest of the team and ran to Parc Fermé, stopping by Natalie once she spotted you for a quick hug.
"Will! Will! Will!", you called your boyfriend's race engineer once the team kindly let you go to the front, "Congratulations!", you hugged him, "I'm so happy!!", you squealed as he laughed.
Your phone rang with a FaceTime call coming from Max, "Hiiiii!", you beamed.
"Are you at the front?", he asked, "he did it, Y/N, he fucking did it! I'm going to add Adam here, just let me go here...", he tapped his screen until you noticed a new square forming on your phone.
"Hiii!", Adam and Cisca accepted the call quickly, "Y/N! Where are you now?", Cisca asked.
"I'm at the front here, slightly on the side!", you yelled as you showed them the number four car park in front of the number one plaque, "Look at him!", you squealed.
Lando was quick to get out safely, celebrating his first position and getting weighed in before taking his helmet off, leaving it on the ground and diving into the team who congratulated him enthusiastically.
"He's so happy and he has his big smile that makes his eyes crinkly!", you cheered as you stood next to Mark, making sure you didn't get shoved or pushed around too much.
"She and Lando are so cute, ugh, I can't deal with it", Pietra groaned.
"He's very lucky to have you, Y/N", Adam agreed before you saw Flo and Cisca.
"Lando No wins no more, hey? Y/N, have you seen him? He must be so ecstatic!", Flo offered.
"Stop it - I just passed by Natalie on my way here and she recalled the first time I watched a race from the garage when I was nineteen! Nineteen, might as well have been a baby! And I cried a little more, nearly choked because I had to run here and my breathing was ragged", you muttered, "I think the guys are putting him back down", you mused.
"Dude! Broken Rib time!", Zak yells once Lando was back on the floor, hugging your boyfriend before Andrea did the same.
"Now make room for the missus - she also gets to hug him all in one piece", the italian engineer encouraged while he helped you with the barrier.
Seeing Lando was enough to get your eyes to water again, not caring about hitting your phone on his back once he pulled you into his arms, nuzzling his face on your neck.
"I'm so proud of you, baby, you drove brilliantly out there", you let out, kissing his skin before cupping his face with both hands once Zak took your phone away from you, "you're a race winner, Lan, you're incredible and I love you so so so much", you told him before smashing your lips on his.
"Did the microphone pick that up?", Zak asked everyone on FaceTime after waving at them.
"It did - they're the cutest, I told you! I'm team Lando-Y/N until the end of time", Flo chuckled as she watched you and Lando look at eachother as if there was no one else around.
"I love you, babygirl", your boyfriend gave you a big smile, "this is for the team, for my family, my friends and for you! I love you, Y/N Y/L/N!", he said as he walked back with the FIA staff member that was guiding him to the cool down room.
Getting your phone back, the mechanics let you stand at the front with Will who gave you your phone back, "I'm back, the crybaby is back", you stated, wiping your cheeks.
"Mum is no better, Y/N, don't worry about that", Flo joked as you watched Cisca crying too.
"You and Lando are so cute, ugh, I can't deal with it", Pietra groaned.
"Stop it - I just passed by Natalie on my way here and she recalled the first time I watched a race from the garage when I was nineteen! Nineteen, might as well have been a baby! And I cried a little more, nearly choked because I had to run here and my breathing was ragged", you muttered.
At the podium celebrations, you grabbed a good spot to watch your boyfriend finally go on the highest step, accepting a hug from everyone who came to offer their congratulation on your boyfriend's achievement.
"You do know we are watching on TV, right?", Max wondered as you waited for the call for Lando to step on the podium.
"Of course I know - I'd feel bad for you if you were actually paying attention to what I've pointing the camera at -, I just need your company because I think I've cried all the tears I have in me and if you're not here with me, even if figuratively, I might fall apart again and that won't be good", you reasoned as you switched the camer around to show your face again.
Hearing the anthem and watching Lando raise his face up to the sun added magic to the serene moment until they sprayed the champagne between them, Lando saving some from his bottle to try and get the rest of the team too.
After all the media content was take care of, you and Lando headed back to the hotel ao you could get ready for dinner.
"You have a really big smile on your face, Y/N", Lando pointed out as you showered together.
"Look who's saying it", you blushed, grabbing his jaw so you could kiss him, "I'm so happy and so proud of you Lando, it doesn't fit inside my heart or my body what I'm feeling right now".
"I can't believe it still", he mused as his hands found themselves on your naked waist, "thank you for being here - today and every day you're with me", he joined your foreheads.
Dinner was lovely and you left to the party straight after, meeting up with Max once you were inside and in the reserved area. You danced all night along attached to your boyfriend who didn't seem to want to let you go, teeth nipping at the skin on your neck.
"Do you want another one, baby?", Lando asked and you shook your head no, kissing his lips.
"I'm good, Lan", you smiled, twirling him and kissing his lips.
"You two could stop fawning over eachtoher, you know? Y/N didn't rest until the whole paddock was informed of your win, as if they hadn't watched it happen and now this?", he chuckled playfully, "you two make me sick!".
"Can't help it if I'm proud of Lando!", you stuck your tongue out at him.
When you left the club to go back to the hotel, Lando walked with you on his arms with your back to his chest, allowing you to walk on your legs still but his rush setting the pace you were doing it with.
"Lando!", you squealed as you balanced yourself, holding on to his arms like your life depended on them "we're are we going?".
"I'm taking you to our room, put the no disturb sign outside and have my way with you in any way you allow me to", he smirked
"Our flight leaves in a couple of hours", you reasoned, a big smile on your face mirroring your boyfriend's.
"Then I'm going to take advantage of those hours we have left - I can't wait until we get home and what I want to do with you is not mile high club appropriate", he winked, "I'm a race winner, babygirl, and the celebrations are just getting started", your boyfriend said, tapping your butt once again.
#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris fic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fluff#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 x you
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Two's A Crowd
College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader
MDNI 18+
(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)
Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.
Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing
Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added
Author's Note: Yay!! New multi-chapter fic in honor of 800 followers!!
I'm a sucker for tropes and mean Leon is one I can't keep out of my head. If you're not good at math then this is the fic for you! (also don't mind me slipping some Sky lore in here...)
Cross-posted onto AO3
Chapter 1
Growing up, college had always been a big dream of yours, leaving you fantasizing day in and out about all the possibilities that would open up, along with actually getting to live through the renowned “college experience”.
In reality, college was a lot harder than you were expecting. Your parents had told you to jump right into it after high school, fearing taking a gap year would ruin your good streak. The stress was starting to get to you and it was only a semester into your freshman year. All the tests, projects, and general studying really wore down on your mental health, not to mention you were failing the one math class you had.
You couldn’t tell your parents, no, they’d probably have a heart attack, especially since that math class was a prerequisite to another class that you needed to take. They were already worried enough that you hadn’t picked a major yet, so who knows how they’d take the news that you were failing right off the bat.
It was hard enough that you were feeling homesick. This was the first time you’d ever been this far away from home, studying at a university when you would’ve been perfectly content going to a community college closer to home. Your roommate was nice, but the two of you weren’t growing any closer than mere acquaintances, so it always felt awkward to just exist in your own dorm room.
Your eating habits worsened with the lack of any real food within five miles of campus. Sure there were a couple fast food chains on the campus itself, but they closed incredibly early. By the time you finished studying, which was around six in the evening, it had already closed. Not to mention that when they were open, the lines were comically long. University food was out of the question after you got violently ill from their “chicken nuggets”, so you were left with the little money your parents provided once a week to order takeout or make quick trips to the store to buy a frozen meal. Only one, since the mini fridge in your dorm was almost always occupied by your roommates stuff.
Everything was so exhausting and you were way out of your comfort zone having to use the community bathrooms for all your hygienic routines. Walking in always made you feel like you were interrupting a meeting in the president’s oval office with how many nasty looks you were given when all you were trying to do was brush your teeth.
The first thing you saw whenever you opened up Canvas was a massive F staring you down from the little box that comprised the majority of your math assignments and tests, making you feel less than worthless. This one semester alone helped you understand why so many people dropped out, this was hard.
By now you’d already gone to your math professor multiple times asking for redos or extra credit work. He was probably sick of seeing you since you showed up after almost every single assignment’s grades were submitted.
“Heeeyyy, Mr. Lebovic..” You said after knocking your knuckle against his open door to grab his attention. “Listen, about that last quiz, I-”
He cut you off with a wave of his hand before gesturing towards one of the chairs sitting in front of his desk. You hurried to sit down, watching nervously as he slowly pulled his eyes off his computer and onto you. “I get it, you don’t need to explain yourself.” His relaxed tone and faint smile was enough to ease your nerves a bit, letting your shoulders slump with a sigh. “You’ve been trying really hard, I can easily recognize that.”
You nodded eagerly, licking your dry lips as you opened your mouth to speak, only to be cut off again. “I’ve been looking into studying options that might help you. Resources are scarce for this material, but I think I finally have a tutor to help you out.”
A wave of relief washed over you at the mention of tutor. Maybe you wouldn’t have to face the wrath of your parent’s disappointment after all! “Oh.. o-okay…” you stuttered, eyebrows furrowing as you silently beckoned him to continue.
“I teach another math class, it’s higher level, but I have a student in there that’s just taken up tutoring the material you’re learning.” Your professor seemed just as happy as you were about the opportunity. “His name is Leon Kennedy, he’s got one of the study rooms in the library from three to five in the afternoon on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”
It took you a second to process everything Mr. Lebovic was telling you before you scrambled to pull out a sticky note and a pen to write all the information down on. You heard the older man chuckle softly, looking over at him when he held out a small piece of paper to you. “I wrote it down already for you, don’t worry.” You wished you could’ve thanked him tenfold, but his office hours were closed for the day now, so you said a quick goodbye and hurried back to your dorm, holding onto the piece of paper like a lifeline.
Contrary to what your math professor thinks, you knew the name “Leon Kennedy”. You had a couple friends that you hung out with occasionally out in the grass in front of the science building and they’d brought him up before. The few vague bits of info that you’d heard weren’t flattering, painting this Leon in quite a bad light; the stereotypical jock in a frat flying by on a full-ride scholarship. However, he was your saving grace now and you needed to develop more of an unbiased opinion of him if he was going to help you raise your grade from an F.
“Yeesh, sorry I’m not better at math or I would’ve helped you.” One of your friends, Sky, spoke up as they read the piece of paper your professor gave you yesterday from over your shoulder. “Even if you were better at math, I still wouldn’t trust you.” Ella, your other friend, laughed out.
“Ha ha, yeah, Sky failed math four times. Big whoop.” Sky waved their hands dramatically before walking over to sit down next to Ella in the dead grass. “Seriously though, you’re better off taking a failing grade and dealing with your parents. Kennedy is the devil incarnate.”
“The devil incarnate sounds easier to put up with than my parents, so I’ll take my chances..” You grumbled, taking a seat on a medium-sized rock close to the pair. “Maybe he’s turning a new leaf? Deciding to tutor?”
Sky crossed her arms and rolled her eyes which made Ella elbow them in the side before giving you a sympathetic smile. “Maybe so, but please just be careful. I don’t want you having to put up with some jackass that has an ego bigger than Texas.”
You nodded with a slight frown, moving your foot side to side lazily to push the grass blades around. You didn’t even think to consider the repercussions of studying with some random junior. “I’m sure it’ll be alright. Besides, just tell Sky and I if he’s giving you any trouble. I know damn well no man likes to put up with two women yelling in his face.” Sky nodded and pointed to Ella for added dramatics. “Yeah, and I bite. My top six teeth are porcelain so that shit hurts. Trust me.”
Your friends never failed to make you laugh, a slight resolve in a pool full of worries, you suppose. “Don’t worry, you guys’ll be the first to know if Leon is mean.”
“Good. Now, when’re you gonna go see the guy?” Sky rested their arms on their knees before looking up at you. “Uh.. in a couple hours I guess. I already made the appointment.” Your response seemed to surprise both of your friends, giving them a confused look in response to their shocked ones. “Is that.. Is that not a good time?”
“No no, just.. I thought you would’ve maybe taken a little longer to go and see him.” Ella shrugged, reaching a hand up to scratch behind their neck. “Proud of you, taking the initiative like that.” She then looked at her phone before pulling herself off the ground with a small groan. “I got class in a couple minutes. Good luck with the frat boy.”
She patted your shoulder as she walked off towards the larger building on campus, leaving you and Sky alone for the rest of the time. Part of you wished both of your friends could walk you to the library when the time came, but having Sky was enough. “So.. Leon’s bad bad?” You needed a bit more clarification on the guy you were going to spend one-on-one time with, something to calm you down after running through countless scenarios in your head.
“He’s not all bad, 'least I don't think. I’ve exchanged a few ‘hello’s’ and ‘excuse me’s’ with him here and there since we apparently frequent the same building.” Sky scooted over to the rock you were sitting on, placing the back of their head on your legs. A couple brown leaves blew over from a nearby tree which they grabbed and crunched with their hand. “I haven’t personally experienced any bad happenings around him, but he is part of a pretty notoriously rowdy frat, so you have to promise me that you’ll only study with him on campus and never go to that frat house or any frat house in general, alright?”
Sky pointed up at you, poking the underside of your chin which made you laugh again and swat their hand away. “As much as I rave about wanting to have the stereotypical college experience, going to a frat house was never part of my daydreaming.”
“Good. Keep it that way.” They switched their fingers to give you a quick thumbs up before letting their arm flop down into their lap, eyes closing with a sigh. “Anyways, besides all that, wanna go get some food? I don’t have another class today and you’ve got about an hour and a half to spare, so actually you have no choice. Get up.”
You stood up with a shake of your head once Sky pushed off of your legs who stood up as well with a small stretch. “Don’t burn me at the stake, but I kinda want grocery store sushi. I’m feeling lucky.”
“Please don’t.” You sighed, pocketing the piece of paper before beginning to follow behind Sky as they started to walk across the grass.
After the two of you shared a sandwich from some random shop not too far off campus, Sky walked with you up to the library, stopping just before the front desk. They agreed to not wander in with you under the condition that you’ll go to their dorm straight after to discuss details.
To say you were nervous was an understatement. Most of what you heard about this guy meant he was bad news, though you really didn’t have much of a choice when it came to seeing him. Like your math professor said, there weren’t a lot of options when it came to studying the material you were learning. Sure you had the internet and other students in the class, but you preferred the idea of a tutor since you’d already exhausted yourself trying to follow along with various youtube videos. You needed the in-person teaching, it just stuck better in your head that way.
Slowly starting to walk, you made your way over to the study rooms lining the back of the library. The rooms seemed pretty private with the only window being on the door, which had glass nearly top to bottom. Thankfully the rooms were numbered and Leon had texted you which room to go to when you made the appointment with him, you had no idea what he looked like and you didn’t want to look like a creep eyeballing people through the door until you hopefully found the right person.
Standing off to the side, you could see the number you were looking for sitting above the door, taking a brief moment to collect yourself and hype yourself up to talk to someone who didn’t have the greatest reputation. Set aside everything you’ve heard and just hope for the best..
You took in a deep breath as you strode over to the door, glancing inside through the window before knocking to let him know you were there. The table was angled off more to the left so you didn’t immediately see him until he leaned over the table to see who had knocked. Confidence left you as soon as you made eye contact with Leon due to the groan you could hear through the door. It took you a couple seconds, but you eventually managed to get your body to work with you, hand turning the handle to let yourself in.
“-the last thing I need..” You caught the end of his little rant to himself as you opened the door. The saying “fake it ‘till you make it” is harder than it sounds since your entire body decided to betray you, deciding that shrinking in was the best move. Quietly, you shuffled over to sit across from him at the table, placing your backpack in your lap in some weird way to provide comfort in this situation.
“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Leon grumbled, sitting far back in the tilted chair as his feet lifted the front end of the chair slightly. His arms were crossed and he was giving you probably the nastiest look you’ve ever seen, next to your parents, of course. All you did was sit there giving him a blank stare. It was obvious what he’d said, yet the sheer forwardness of that snide comment had you more than confused. “What?-”
“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Apparently he felt the need to repeat himself with some added bite, barely letting you get a word in. “No one ever shows up to these shitty tutor- whatever the fucks.”
Wow. Okay. “Uh..” You didn’t even know what to say to that. It completely caught you off guard. You’d run through countless ways this interaction would go in your head, but this wasn’t one of those ways. The two of you sat in a very tense silence with Leon just glaring at you from across the table, continuing to rock back and forth in the chair.
Without uncrossing his arms, Leon lifted a hand and waved it around slightly while shaking his head. “Are you actually still gonna sit here orrr…?” The sound of his voice finally snapped you out of shock, causing you to shoot your gaze down to your backpack, fumbling with its partially broken zipper. “I-.. Mr. Lebovic recommended you..?”
You pulled out a few of your failed assignments from your bag before setting them down on the table with shaky hands, keeping your eyes glued to the papers to avoid that burning stare the man in front of you has. “I need-.. I need help..?”
“Do you?” Leon let the chair fall forward, his sarcastic tone starting to make your whole body tremble. “You don’t sound like you do.” He snatched one of your assignments from the table and held it up, pursing his lips as he studied the various red marks made on it closely. You chose to not respond to that, letting your hands rest on top of your backpack so you had something to squeeze.
He turned the page around, the sound of the paper wobbling the only thing you could hear right after the sound of the central heat blowing through the vent in the room. Suddenly, Leon started chuckling to himself, shaking his head incredulously as he flipped the paper back and forth a couple times before letting it fall back to the table. “This is terrible!” His laugh grew louder as he tilted his body to the side to pull out his phone, taking a picture of the assignments you’d put on the table.
How on earth were you supposed to react to that other than just sitting quietly? He was actually making fun of you right to your face. Hell, he might as well point and laugh if he’s going to be this brasen.
The most you could muster up was a quiet yet high-pitched “... huh?” in response to him. This whole ordeal was spiraling a little too fast for you to keep up with. You were expecting to put up with some grown man with a bratty attitude or even just a very uninterested, not all there jock with how Leon’s been described to you, not blatant bullying.
“Huh?” He mocked, taking one last look at his phone while loudly sucking on his teeth before pocketing it again. “Anyways, this is actually sad. How are you managing to fuck simple math up like this?” He roughly grabbed all the papers on the table and stacked them before partially tossing them back at you, some slipping onto the floor. “You’re too far gone, even I can’t fix that.”
You let out a gasp when the papers were tossed at your face, scrambling to catch some of them. Pushing the chair back, you leaned over to grab the few that fell on the floor, desperately holding back tears. “Please, you don’t understand.” You pleaded, voice cracking as you tried your best not to start crying in front of him. “I-I need to pass this class. I’m passing everything else, I just can’t keep up with this one!” You were speed-talking to try and argue your case, sitting back up with the small pile of papers that you struggled to stack properly.
Leon started rocking back in his chair again, arms back across his chest as he watched you with squinted eyes. The corners of his lips soon turned up into a smirk, taking in your sorry state before rolling his eyes with a dramatic groan. “Alright, alright, stop whining, jesus..” He cleared his throat, letting his head fall over the back of the chair. “I’ll help you only because I feel bad for you.” It’s not like he was going to admit that he was being forced to be a tutor, no one needs leverage over him like that
You couldn’t help but give a small smile despite his implication. It was a start. “And I’m not gonna do it today, either.” Well, the sooner the better, but still, it’s a start.
He then stood up from the chair, fixing his jacket with a sigh. “If you show up even a minute late on Friday, I’m not helping” and before you even had a chance to reply, he walked out of the room, the door shutting with a slam which made you flinch. Luckily, you were a very punctual person when it came to this kind of stuff. This was important, so if you had to show up early, so be it. You hurriedly shoved your assignments back into your backpack, not even fully zipping it up before rushing out of the study room, back through the library, and to the dorms.
“He said that?!” Sky yelled, quickly wiping their hand over their mouth to quiet themself once you shushed them. “I don’t really feel comfortable with you going to another ‘study session’ with that guy if he’s just gonna bully you.”
“I wouldn’t call it bullying-”
“He was bullying you.”
“OKAY! So what if he was?!” You fell back onto Sky’s bed with a sigh, arms splayed out with your legs dangling off the side. “I can handle it. As long as I get my grade up, who cares?”
Sky sat down next to you on their bed, giving you a sad look as you sat yourself up with your elbows. “I care. So does Ella. You shouldn’t put up with that just for a grade. I’m sure if you explain to your professor and-”
“And what? Tell him that I’m a grown woman getting bullied over something I should know by now?” You sat yourself up fully now, leaning forward to place your elbows on your thighs as your head rested in your hands. “It’s only until finals are over and we’re already halfway through October. Maybe I won’t even need that much time, maybe I’m just missing one simple… math move and it’ll get the gears in my brain moving again.”
You tilted your head to the side to look at Sky, head now resting only in your right hand as you took in their annoyed look. “Trust me. I can handle this.”
“If you say so.” They ran their fingers through her hair before looking away from you, directing their attention forward to stare off at nothing. “Just remember that I bite and I’m not afraid to use my fake chompers on that no good-”
“I don’t wanna think about escalations right now, but thank you.” You chuckled, playfully nudging Sky with your free hand before moving it back to hold your head up with the other. Though you were trying to convince Sky on this, you were mostly just trying to convince yourself that you could handle this. Handle Leon and his.. alluring charm..
Only until finals, maybe even sooner.
#college au my beloved#resident evil#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x you#leon scott kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy smut#leon s kennedy smut#re4#leon kennedy fic#leon kennedy fanfic#leon scott kennedy#leon s kennedy x fem!reader#leon s kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x reader smut#leon kennedy x y/n#bully leon#college AU#leon scott kennedy x fem reader#leon scott kennedy x you#multi chap fic#multichapter
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Telling slashers you like 'hot old men'
I am an old man lover and enjoyer for life. I love hot old men I hope I become one when I'm older. So what better way then to make a post appreciating all of the hot old men I'm in love with. I know some of these men aren't like super old but it's still kind of old ok? We're talking an age range from 30's-50's. Also this was buried in my drafts since like April.
Includes: Doomhead, Mark Hoffman, Peter Strahm, Hannibal Lecter, and Bo Sinclair
Warnings: None I can think of
Doomhead
He honestly thought you said something else when you first said it. You two were watching a movie together and you made a comment on how you love "hot old men".
When he asks you to repeat yourself and you confirm that you said you love hot old men he laughs. He knows he's an older man but you saying that is really funny to him.
"Are you calling me an old man, sugar?" He asks you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. After you clarify you don't mean it in a negative way he just keeps laughing quietly.
He'll bring this up from time to time when he sees fit. He honestly might play up the 'old man' act just to tease you about it even more. But he's not too offended that you said it.
Mark Hoffman
You and Hoffman are coworkers and you've been dropping hints to him about your attraction to him. Today you were working with Hoffman, looking over some tapes when the discussion of how long you've been in the force came up.
When Hoffman mentioned when he graduated from the police academy and made a comment about how he's old you smiled and said, "Good thing I love old men."
He laughed it off at first then got a little defensive about how he's "not that old". You explained to him that you never meant it to be rude, you just meant to say that you find older men attractive.
He just nodded his head and went back to watching the tape over. But over the next few days he kept thinking about what you said. It's the most outwardly flirty you've been with him before. When he next sees you he asks you out and you accept.
Peter Strahm
You're on a date with him after being introduced to each other by a mutual friend. He took you somewhere nice and he's driving you home. You both feel a strong connection.
He mentions how long he's been working in the FBI and makes a comment about how you must think he's so old. But when you chuckle and tell him "Don't worry, I love old men." He chuckles too.
Peter isn't too much older than you but he still finds your comment funny. He asks you why and when you talk about how older men are more mature, provide stability, and they're just hot, he smiles and puts a hand on your thigh.
He thinks about your comment for awhile after the date. The comment and how well the date went leads him to asking you out again, which you of course say yes to.
Hannibal Lecter
You met Hannibal at an opera and he found you very attractive. He invited you over for dinner later in the week and you accepted. He made sure to make an impressive meal for you, which isn't hard for him to do.
You two start talking over dinner and Hannibal talks about his career as a surgeon then as a psychiatrist. He makes a comment about how you must think he's very old and you reply with, "I don't mind at all. I love old men."
He chuckles and says he's not that old. You tell him you know that but you start talking about how you love a man who looks more mature and has his life well put together.
The dinner goes well and he invites you over again later in the month. But he can't stop thinking about your comment. He knows he's an older man but he doesn't think he's that old. But the comment doesn't get to him too much because you like him anyway.
Bo Sinclair
You're sitting with Bo in his garage while he's working on a car. You're reading an old magazine when you start to giggle. He asks you what's so funny and you talk about how hot this model is.
When you show him the model Bo talks about how he looks pretty old to which you reply with "I love old men." Bo sets down his tool and looks at you.
"Are you saying I'm old, darlin'?" He asks you. You think for a moment before you tell him no. Bo is in his early 30's and you don't really consider that old.
You have to explain to him that by "old men" you mean men in their 40's and above. Bo will tease you about this constantly. Any time you two see an older man, either it being in a movie or a victim he asks you if he's your type.
#doomhead x reader#mark hoffman x you#mark hoffman x reader#peter strahm x reader#peter strahm x you#hannibal x reader#hannibal lecter x you#hannibal lecter x reader#bo sinclair x you#bo sinclair x reader#bo sinclair x y/n#slasher x y/n#slasher x reader#slasher fanfiction
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don't cry over spilt milk
joel miller x f!reader
rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: joel is not happy to find out that you slept with someone else. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] fwb!joel, major jealousy, possessiveness, reader is kinda mean and clueless, mean!joel, some unrequited feelings, smut, unprotected p in v sex, oral [f!recieving], spitting.... word count: 4.8k series masterlist | masterlist this is part three of my fwb!joel series. you can find the other parts here: one, two, four.
The community dining hall was full of people. Groups of families and friends huddled on long tables, eating dinner together. The summer heat was killing you; thick, humid air suffocating your skin, making it feel like your thin singlet was melting onto your back. And being inside the dining hall did nothing to stem the early evening warmth, so you sat and basked in the stale sticky air while you ate, trying to ignore the way sweat made the skin of your thighs stick to the chair beneath you.
“And I can head shot those fuckers from a mile out,” Tommy was saying, his fork hovering in mid-air between his plate and his mouth. “I stand up on the hill and I spot ‘em, wandering around Alpine Crest Community, and I just take ‘em out. Ain’t nothin’ to it.”
You rolled your eyes, fork pushing the remaining food around your plate. “Give it a rest Tommy, save some humility for the rest of us.”
“It ain’t about bein’ humble,” he grinned at you. “It’s about knowin’ your way around a sniper – and I know it best.”
“Oh shut up, Miller,” someone further down the table threw a dirty napkin at him, and he caught it, gripping it to his chest and chuckling in mock indignancy. “Some of us are trying to eat our dinner in peace, without having to hear any of your stories.”
“Ask Ellie,” he continued around a full mouth this time. “She saw it. I let her have a shot at it too; kid’s not half bad.”
You gave him a bemused look, “And how did Joel react to you letting Ellie use the sniper?”
“Our little secret,” he winked at you.
Fairly often the group of you would commune in the hall and share a meal together, catching up on work and family and settlement gossip. It was a nice way to connect with the community, and you would damn sure rather eat dinner with friends in the hall than alone in your house.
“Hey,” Tommy called out suddenly, the rise in volume startling you. Turning in your chair, you followed his gaze to see that Joel had walked into the hall and was making a beeline toward your table. “How was patrol?”
Joel settled beside the table, standing directly behind your chair. “Good,” he said blankly. “Uneventful.” He looked down to you, and you smiled up at him, holding out your fist as a greeting.
He didn’t return the sentiment, staring blankly at your hand in the air until you shook it at him. “You’re supposed to give me a fist bump, Joel. It’s how friends greet each other.”
Your friends tittered around the table, none of you picking up on Joel’s bad mood quite yet. “You joining us for dinner?” one of them asked him.
“Not tonight,” he shook his head, still staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “I need to talk to you,” he said.
“Sure,” you blinked, scraping the last of your food onto your fork and shovelling it into your mouth ungracefully. “You good?”
“Sure,” he replied vaguely, glancing at Tommy for a split-second. “Come outside.” Before you could respond, he had turned and was making his way out of the hall.
You let out a low whistle and rose from your chair, glancing at Tommy. He was watching you closely, a slight ridge formed in between his eyebrows. You cringed and looked away quickly, muttering a goodbye to the table before heading outside. After what happened a few weeks prior, things with Tommy were always awkward when it came to you and Joel being alone. Although he’d never brought it up or asked any questions, for which you were eternally grateful, you knew he had to be curious, and his mind would’ve been whirring at a hundred miles a minute trying to figure out the situation going on between you and his brother. You just thanked your lucky stars he didn’t have the guts to ask you about it outright.
When you stepped outside the doors the summer air smacked you in the face all over again and you grimaced, spotting Joel marching away from the hall and jogging to catch up to him.
“What’s going on?” you followed him, speaking to his back as he walked ahead of you, leading the pair of you down the street. “Joel?”
He spun suddenly; feet planted in the dirt as he stared you down. His expression was unreadable, but you could see in his posture that something was brewing deep inside of him. He was tense; hands fisted tightly by his sides, jaw locked.
“Lloyd Peterson, huh?”
“What?” your face twisted in confusion. “What about Lloyd Peterson?”
“Overheard him on patrol today,” he said gruffly. “Was telling Davis he fucked you last week.”
An uneasy feeling rolled through your stomach. “Christ,” you huffed. “What an ass.”
“He’s lyin’ then?” Joel raised an eyebrow.
“Oh,” you paused, rocking back on your heels. “I mean, no; he’s not lying. Just didn’t think he was the type to shout it from the rooftops.”
As you spoke, you didn’t immediately notice how poorly Joel was reacting, but soon enough you were locked into a staring match with him, realising just how badly he was reacting to the information.
He was silent. For a moment, you weren’t even sure if his chest was rising and falling. The summer breeze whistled between you two, playing with his dark curls. But his face was stony. Lips sealed shut and dark eyebrows drawn tight in the middle of his forehead as he glowered at you.
You opened your mouth to speak again, but he cut you off in an instant, his cold words slicing through the tense air. “You fuckin’ many other guys?”
Eyebrows raised high, you shook your head no slowly.
“Just Peterson then.”
“It was one time Joel, it’s hardly a regular thing.”
“Why didn’t you come to me?”
Your stomach dropped. With those words you saw past the stormy expression on his face, the way his fingernails dug crescent moons into the palms of his hands, and understood the insecurity hidden underneath it all. The jealousy. Your heartrate kicked up a notch as you wondered where the fuck this was coming from. Sure, you and Joel fucked around and spat possessive nonsense at each other while you fucked, but this seemed bizarre. You’d been close friends for years, and had been fucking casually for months. So why was he suddenly acting like you had betrayed him?
“What do you mean?” you questioned him slowly.
“Thought we had fun together,” his tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth. “Didn’t realise I wasn’t doin’ it for you anymore.”
“Joel, this has nothing to do with you,” you huffed.
“The hell it doesn’t,” he barked, and you flinched, looking around quickly to see how many people were within earshot of the conversation. You were standing in the middle of the street for fuck’s sake.
“Shut up,” you hissed. “You’re making a fucking scene.”
Joel took two quick steps forward until your chests were close to touching, staring down at you with an intensity that almost made you shudder. “Tell me why you fucked him.”
For a split second, you despised him for the guilt you felt. Heat soared across your cheeks, and your palms were damp with perspiration. He was glaring, dark eyes holding your gaze and making it almost impossible to look away. So you allowed your guilt to shift to anger.
“What the fuck is it to you?” you whispered viciously, painfully aware of a woman walking past. “Jesus Christ, Joel. Last I checked, you and I are friends. Just because we get our rocks off together doesn’t mean I owe you anything, least of all an explanation for fucking someone else.”
“Oh, fuck you,” he spat, words laced with venom. “I’ve never once asked you for anything. Not for anything other than what we’ve been doin’, never pushed you for more. And I thought we had a good thing goin’; thought we had an understanding. We rely on each other, we trust each other. Didn’t think you’d go off and fuck someone else while I was out on patrol one day.”
The implication behind his words made your chest tighten. The insinuation that if he had his way, you two would be more. You pushed the thought out of your mind to deal with later.
“It just happened!” you said, throwing your hands up in exasperation. You placed them on his chest and pushed him back a step, eager to have some space between you. “It was in the heat of the moment, he made a move, and it happened, okay? It’s not like I waited for you to leave the fucking gates and then I beat down his door.”
He was breathing heavily, and you could see the cogs turning rapidly in his head as he soaked in your words. You spoke again before he could. “You’re telling me you don’t fuck anyone else?”
Joel’s face twisted into an ugly snarl, and his silence was all the response you needed. And really, you shouldn’t have been surprised. If he was so scorned by the idea of you and Peterson, he obviously wasn’t fucking other people.
“What do you want me to say?” you asked, voice softer. “I’m sorry, okay? You’re my friend, and I care about you Joel, I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“I don’t want an apology,” he scowled.
“Then what do you want?”
“I want you to tell me,” his voice lowered, and he stepped closer, leaning down to breath his next words into your ear. “Tell me how he fucked you.”
Your breath hitched in your throat, mouth drying instantly. “What?” you mumbled in shock.
“You heard me,” he whispered, so close that his minty breath tickled across your face. “How did he fuck you?”
“Joel,” you shook your head, trying to ignore the sudden pulsing at the apex of your thighs. “This is ridicu-“
“Did you let him taste you?” he growled. “He put his tongue inside you?”
“N-no,” you stuttered out, wetting your lips desperately. “No, he didn’t.”
“Shame,” Joel chuckled mirthlessly. “He’s missin’ out.”
You prayed he didn’t notice the way your nipples had hardened through the thin material of your shirt.
“So what then?” he prompted. “Tell me.”
“Are you being serious?” your cheeks blazed. “I blew him, we fucked. What do you want me to say?” His eyes darkened considerably at the mention of another man’s cock in your mouth, and you willed yourself to hold strong and not back down. God he was intimidating when he wanted to be.
“How did he fuck you?”
“He was on top,” you grunted, feeling like a student getting scolded by their teacher.
Joel hummed in response, his eyes raking over your features, before flitting down and taking in the sight of your body. Your hands were shaking with frustration, but your legs were pressed tightly together were you stood, thighs tensed in anticipation.
“Let’s go,” is all he said, before turning and marching in the direction of his house. You followed him wordlessly on shaky legs.
The house was empty and quiet when you got there.
He held the front door open for you, and once you were inside he slammed it, sliding the lock into place. You jumped slightly at the loud noise, a nervous wreck as you anticipated what was about to happen.
“Upstairs,” he muttered, leading you up and into his bedroom.
As soon as you reached the room, Joel was on you, pressing you against the closed door. Large hands kneaded your flesh, his grip tight enough to leave bruises. His kiss was rough, all wet tongue and lips and teeth bumping against teeth, as he pushed himself desperately close to you. You gasped into his mouth, whimpering as his teeth bit down on your lower lip, enjoying the sharp sting as he pulled back and stretched it out before letting go. He gripped the hem of your singlet and ripped it over your head, bearing your chest to him.
Without a moment’s hesitation, he sponged kisses down your neck, across your collarbones, before wrapping his lips around one of your aching nipples. You sighed in relief, gripping his hair tightly as he sucked and licked at the tight bud, his teeth lightly grazing it occasionally. His left hand drifted up your sternum to pinch the other one, rolling it between his thumb and index finger, and groaning into your chest at the pathetic sounds that drifted from your mouth.
Over the sounds of your own panting, you heard the sound of a zipper being undone, and looked down to find him pulling himself out of his jeans. He was already hard, the tip red and weeping precum as he began to stroke himself slowly, never stopping the movements of his mouth on you.
“Joel,” you panted, pushing his face away from your chest. “I want to taste you.”
He grunted, eyes never leaving your face as the muscles in his right arm tensed with every tug on his cock. “Take your clothes off and get on the bed.”
Considering the heat, you were happy to do as he asked, sighing in relief as you peeled your sticky clothes from your body and settled yourself in the middle of his large bed, sitting balanced on your heels, waiting for him to join you. He pushed his jeans down his legs slowly, tearing his shirt over his head until he was just as naked as you were. Your mouth salivated as you stared at him, eyes constantly drifting between his face and where he fisted his cock, desperate to feel the weight of him on your tongue.
“You want my cock in your pretty mouth, baby?” he asked lowly, and you nodded quickly, mentally begging him to get on the bed. Joel stared at you for a moment, contemplating, before a mean grin split across his face. “Well, we don’t always get what we want, do we, sunshine?” You faltered, frowning at him as he reached out and pressed on your shoulder, pushing you down so you laid on the bed.
Joel got onto the bed and rested on his knees, gazing down at you. “Spread your legs. Go on, show me that pretty pussy.”
Splaying yourself open on the bed, you basked in the feeling of his eyes raking over you, taking in every inch of skin on display, every detail of your body. His eyes worshipped you, and your heart panged in your chest as you recognised the look in his expression. It was awe.
“Look at that,” he leered. “You’re fuckin’ soaked. Dripping wet and I’ve hardly even touched you yet. Who’s that for?”
“For you,” you breathed.
“That’s right. Because it’s mine, ain’t that right?” It wasn’t abnormal for him to talk like this when you were fucking, but in that moment the words felt heavier. They held more gravity, a more honest yearning in them than usual.
And yet you nodded. “Yours, Joel.”
Upon hearing your words he leant down to press his chest on the bed, and his lips were dragging along your inner thigh, coming dangerously close to where you wanted his mouth the most, but not quite going there yet.
“Unlike that fuckin’ boy,” he snapped. “I’m gonna enjoy takin’ my time with you. Not gonna waste an opportunity to get my mouth on this beautiful cunt.”
Your chest heaved at his words, and you were about to make a snarky comment but then his mouth was on you and all thoughts left your brain. He pressed deep, longing kisses into your folds, his tongue swiping between them in broad strokes, moaning as he tasted you for the first time in over a week. Strong hands gripped your thighs and held them apart as he devoured you, his tongue dipping into your entrance before moving up to lathe slow circles around your aching clit.
Your head was buried in the pillows, hips shifting restlessly and pushing against his grip, trying to grind yourself up against face, desperate for more friction. But he held you down, refusing to speed up his movements.
“Fuck,” you moaned lowly, reaching down to grip his shoulder, digging your fingernails into his skin to show him how good it felt. Joel groaned into you in response, dragging his tongue along the entirety of you, ending it with a sharp flick across your bundle of nerves. You gasped, twitching underneath him.
He hooked a finger inside you, the tip pressing deliciously into the spongy spot on the roof of your walls. You whined desperately, longing for release as he painstakingly lapped and sucked and kissed your sopping core. One hand gripped his shoulder, and the other clawed frantically at the bedsheets, searching for leverage, for something to bear yourself against as he built up your orgasm.
“Feels so good,” you gasped, torso writhing against the bed. “I need more, please, Joel.”
Without warning, he pressed a second finger inside you, and then a third, stretching you out while his tongue flicked against your clit. A broken cry spilled out of your mouth, your stomach tensing painfully tight as he pressed into you. Liquid heat began to spread through your abdomen and thighs, and you longed to wrap your legs around his head, press him in closer, have him gasping for breath against you. But his grip tightened, forcing you to stay splayed on the bed.
“Not yet,” he murmured against you.
“I’m so close,” you mewled.
“Not yet,” he repeated, pulling back to stare down at where his fingers worked you so perfectly, pushing against your walls, stretching you out for him. He leaned down and spat onto your pussy, and you clenched painfully tight around his fingers, mouth ajar at the feeling. And then his mouth was back on you, strong tongue flicking back and forth over your clit savagely, and you moaned his name desperately, begging him to let you come. Finally, you couldn’t take it any longer, and heat flooded your body, your own heartbeat rushing in your ears, body twitching and writhing beneath him as he removed his fingers from you and pressed his tongue into your entrance, sucking and licking up every drop of your release. Your eyes were shut tight, and your mouth hung open in elation, breathy moans of praise slipping from between your lips.
As you came down from your high, he pressed soft kisses against you, giving gentle kitten licks against your clit as you twitched into the bed, away from the pressure on your overstimulated nerves. Finally, his mouth dragged away, and he pressed kisses all the way up your sternum before his lips were against yours. His face was wet from your slick, and it smeared across your cheeks, but you didn’t mind, kissing him eagerly, tongue delving into his mouth to taste yourself.
For a few moments, the pair of you simply laid there, legs tangled together and kissing messily, sighing into each other’s mouths. But it was like a switch flipped suddenly, and Joel pushed himself off you, his walls flying back up. The frown descended back over his face, and you sighed in frustration, wishing he would just forgive you.
Reaching out, you trailed your fingers over his abdomen, touch featherlight, and enjoyed seeing the way goosebumps rippled across his olive toned skin. He shuddered, the muscles underneath his skin tightening as your fingers lowered, trailing through the curls at his base before gripping his thick length. He grunted at the feeling, hips pushing forward slightly. You stroked him lazily, swiping your thumb across his tip and collecting some of his precum before lifting it to your mouth and tasting him. You hummed, tongue swirling around your finger.
“Enough,” he said quietly, manoeuvring himself to rest between your open thighs. His cock bobbed against his stomach, smearing a light sheen across his skin in its wake. Your core ached, clenching around nothing. You were so wet you could feel it dripping out of you, soaking the sheets underneath where you laid.
Joel gripped his cock and leaned forward, dragging the tip through your folds, covering himself in your slick. You moaned in unison at the sensation.
He tapped himself roughly against your clit once, twice, three times until you were trembling, teeth gnawing at your bottom lip, eyes screaming please just fuck me.
He nudged the head of his cock against your entrance and pushed forward ever so slightly, looking down to watch his tip push inside of you. The slight obtrusion made you hold your breath, impatiently waiting for him to take you. He gripped the backs of your knees and wrapped your legs around his waist, where you locked your ankles to hold him against you. The only sound in the room was of your erratic breaths, mingling together in the air. You made eye contact with him and offered a small, encouraging smile. Without wasting another second, he pressed forward, your walls welcoming him until he was so deep inside, bottoming out as his hipbones collided with your thighs.
A choked gasp escaped you. The weight of him inside of you was so heavy, his thick length filling you up to the point where you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you.
“Always so fuckin’,” Joel groaned, hips pulling back a fraction before he pressed back into you. “Tight for me. Squeeze me so good, s’like you were made for me.”
“You’re so big,” you panted. “Feels so fucking good, Joel.”
He began to move with slow thrusts, pressing into you deeper, harder, with every shift of his hips. You threw your head back into the pillows, eyes squeezed shut as your body sang from his touch. His hand disappeared from your leg and gripped your face, thumb pressing into one side of your cheek while his fingers dug into the other.
“Look at me,” he ordered, and your eyes flew open as he squeezed your face, lips parting wider. “I want to see those eyes while I fuck you.”
“Okay,” you acquiesced, tone laced with apology for daring to look away for even a second. His thumb hooked into your open mouth, and he leaned forward so his lips were almost touching yours. But Joel didn’t kiss you. Instead, he spat right into your mouth, and you moaned deeply, swallowing it down. He pressed his thumb against your lips and you opened up for him again, so he could work it into your mouth, pushing down onto your tongue as he fucked you painfully slow. You closed your mouth around the digit, lathing your tongue over it and coating it in a mix of your saliva and his. He groaned in response, his hips jutting forward in a sudden harsh thrust. Dragging his hand from your face, he gripped your thighs again, grinding down into you and making you whimper at the friction as his coarse hair rubbed against your clit. You looked down at where you were connected, watching him rub himself against you.
“Was it like this?” he asked quietly. Your eyes snapped back to his.
“What?” you mumbled, mind hazy with desire.
When Joel spoke again, your entire body stilled. “You said he was on top?”
You hesitated before nodding, your heart palpitating in your chest.
“Was it like this?” he repeated the question, his movements pausing.
“Sort of,” you muttered shyly. It felt silly, to be shy in front of him when he had his cock inside you and you were both fully naked, but nonetheless, you were.
“Tell me,” he said those damn words again.
“He,” you gulped in a breath of air, forcing yourself to speak. “He pushed my legs up, so I had my-“
Joel’s movement interrupted you, as he pushed your thighs down to press against your chest, your ankles resting on the top of his shoulders. “Like this?”
“Yes,” you gasped, trembling at the new angle. “He said it would be deeper; said it would feel better.”
“And did it?” he spoke through gritted teeth, jaw clenched tightly as he watched your face. “Did it feel good when he fucked you like this?”
Your face blazed, and in an effort to take back some control, you grinned up at him slyly. “It felt fucking great.”
He pulled out almost completely before slamming his length back into you, and you moaned brokenly, face twisting at the sharp pain that shot through you. There was no denying that Joel was the biggest you’d ever experienced; your walls stretched sharply around him every time, always needing a moment to adjust. But he was relentless, fucking into you roughly, hands gripping your ankles to keep your legs up. The heat in the room had tripled from your joint exertion, and your skin felt tight, beads of sweat rolling off your forehead and into your hair.
“Fuck,” you cried loudly.
“You like this?” he growled. “You like me fuckin’ you the way he did?”
“Joel,” you sobbed, tears of pleasure leaking from the corners of your eyes.
“You wish it were him instead of me?” he asked, pressing a sloppy kiss to your shin, and you frowned, mouth twisting into a grimace.
“No,” you babbled. “No, Joel, he could never fuck me like this, so deep, you’re so big, fill me up so perfectly. No one could fuck me like you.”
“That’s right,” he grunted, pounding into you mercilessly. “This pussy is mine. No one else could get you like this; so desperate, begging me to make you come. You’re fuckin’ mine.”
“I’m yours,” you cried out, that all too familiar heat igniting in your stomach like a match had been lit. “I’m gonna come Joel, don’t stop, please don’t.”
“Come for me, baby.” Sweat was rolling down his neck, and you gazed up at him through bleary eyes, chest heaving with deep breaths as you felt yourself rest precariously on the edge of your orgasm. “Wanna feel you grip me, I’ve been missin’ it. Show me how good I make you feel, c’mon now.”
His voice was ultimately what pushed you over the edge. That rasping, Southern drawl that you loved hearing mutter filth into your ear. You pulsed around him, an animalistic cry tearing from your throat as he fucked you through your high. You could vaguely hear him rattling off a mix of curses and your name as he bucked into you, and then you felt him paint your insides with his spend. Joel rocked you both through your highs, fingers kneading the flesh of your thighs as he worked himself inside of you, a mix of both of your cum squeezing around his cock and dripping down onto the bedsheets.
When all was said and done he pulled out slowly, watching you closely as you winced at the loss of his weight inside you. Wordlessly, he disappeared into the bathroom before returning with a wet cloth, and used it to clean you up. He settled heavily on the bed beside you, lying flat on his back and cracking his knuckles loudly.
“I’m fuckin’ spent,” he drawled, scratching his beard. You rolled onto your side so you could stare at him, and murmured a quiet agreement. He stared up at the roof, and you frowned, frustrated to feel tears welling up in your eyes.
“Joel,” you whispered. He must’ve heard your voice break, because he turned on his side so you were facing each other straight on. His face was calm, wrinkles smoothed out, jaw relaxed. “I’m sorry I hurt you.” His eyes darted across your face, noting the unshed tears on your waterline, dangerously close to spilling. With a quiet sigh, he reached up and rested his palm on your face, thumb stroking the soft skin underneath your eye.
“Don’t cry,” he said softly, tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“If you don’t want me to fuck anyone else, I won’t,” you said, voice wobbling. “I’m plenty satisfied with you, I shouldn’t have made you feel otherwise.”
“Okay,” is all he said. “It’s okay, sunshine.” The familiar nickname made your chest ache.
“Joel,” you whispered his name, gazing forlornly at him. “You’re my best friend, you know that right?”
Joel stared, silently absorbing your words. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, and you shut your eyes, leaning into him.
“Stay for a while,” he whispered against your skin. “Don’t want you to go yet.”
The words he spoke earlier rang through your mind. I’ve never once asked you for anything. Not for anything other than what we’ve been doin’, never pushed you for more.
“Okay,” you nodded, laying an arm over his side. “Just for a little while.”
final part
#joel miller#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller angst#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#the last of us#tlou#my writing#cat's outta the bag#don't cry over spilt milk
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How the therapists react to your "worst" symptoms - Headcanons
SFW || TW: mentions of self harm, mention of suicidal ideation, therapy sessions, very brief mention of (unlabeled) disordered eating, mention of psychosis & violent thoughts.
A/N: this was written by someone who has been in therapy for many years and has personal experience with these types of symptoms. this is not meant to romanticize any mental illness or symptoms of it. this is purely self indulgent fluff. just because your experience might be different doesn't make these experiences any less valid. if you don't like this simply do not read it, block if you must, and move on.
Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow)
He is the most objective and detached of the lot. Therefore he never seems to have much of a reaction no matter what you do or say to him. He really has seen it all before. This does help you feel less anxious as time goes on, knowing he won't ever judge you or ascribe any kind of morality to your actions.
"If it causes you distress or harm, then we should work towards eliminating it altogether." is his typical response to your concerns about your own coping mechanisms. "You do not owe anyone kindness, just remember to restrain yourself from causing harm whenever possible."
He is the only one to have no discernible reaction to your self harm scars/burns. One day, he noticed an especially fresh one and offered to disinfect and bandage the wound for you. He always gives you space to bring things up at your own pace, when you feel comfortable doing so.
"Not all of us have the capacity to be so gentle, and that's alright." he says about your outbursts. "I'm not known for being the warmest, but that doesn't make me any less skilled at my work, or any less worthy of respect. If you do not hold my lack of socially acceptable agreeableness against me, then you should not hold it against yourself."
Bonus: when you finally have the courage to mention the substance usage he remains as cool and detached as ever. "I am glad you were honest with me so we can monitor for any interactions with your medications. Know that I won't judge you for moderate usage, after all, do we not professionally refer to medications as drugs? It isn't ideal, but it is a way of self medicating. All I ask is that you be fully honest with me about your usage so I can better take care of you."
Hannibal Lecter (NBC)
He is surprisingly gentle and very soft spoken, although you were intimidated by him at first and the opulence of his office. He usually greets you with a warm smile and asks how your week went and if you've eaten yet today. He teaches you to enjoy food again, describing it as an art, and asking you to be mindful and present when enjoying a meal. Listen to your body, what it tells you about the ingredients, the quality of the meal, and the hands that made it.
He always asks you what you want to do, making sure to actively include you in your own treatment plan. He thoroughly explains treatment options, medications and their possible side effects, and has you weigh your options. This allows you to really analyze your own reactions and act accordingly when you are alone.
"Now, you do understand I am required to recommend inpatient treatment if you are feeling actively suicidal." he says, when you come in on an extra bad day. "However, I want to trust you and give you the option of what to do from here. If you think it will do you more harm than good, let me know, but you have to be honest."
One day you get the courage to ask why there is a first aid kit on his desk, though you already assume why. He simply looks at you and asks "Do you need it today?" before gently tending to your recent self harm wounds. He never calls you out for it, but he does periodically ask you upfront if you've been engaging in self injurious behaviors. If you respond yes, he asks to tend to your wounds, and if you say no, he celebrates with you. "Good. I'm proud of you for holding yourself back."
Bonus: when you land in the hospital, Hannibal makes sure to go visit you while your therapy slot is on hold. He never calls attention to the circumstances that lead you here, and focuses solely on your recovery and how he can't wait to have you back in the office soon.
Harleen Quinzel (Harley Quinn)
It doesn't take long for her to shed her professional demeanor. She makes you feel like you're talking to a close friend, yet manages to never fully lose the "doctor" in her. She offers you fidget toys as a way to ease the tension of talking about such vulnerable and heavy subjects.
She makes everything into a little game or a challenge to motivate you changing habits. Every time you manage to avoid indulging in negative coping mechanisms, she rewards you with a little heart shaped chocolate at the end of the session. On bad days, she simply encourages you to try again and she gifts you a cute bandaid at the end of the session to signify your healing from a bad day (sometimes, the bandaids come in handy for self harm wounds).
"Being childish can be a good thing!" she tells you. "Its important to have a little whimsy in your life. Just because you grew up doesn't mean you have to... ya know, grow up." She encourages you to try and add a little joy to your daily life. You start taking fuzzy tipped pens to work and keeping plushies at home for comfort. Surprisingly, it does help.
Every now and again she asks for your advice or assistance on minor things, such as which dress she should wear for a date, or what show to watch next. Sure, you are technically paying for her time, but this fact alone doesn't entirely relieve you of the feeling that you are burdensome. Whenever that feeling creeps back up, she reminds you of all the times you helped her make decisions until you admit your usefulness with a smile.
Bonus: "Hearing voices or other noises doesn't make you evil." is her reply when she learns of your psychotic symptoms. "Everyone is susceptible to experiencing psychosis. Hell, I've felt it when I was losing sleep in med school. It doesn't make you a bad person."
Hannibal Lecter (Silence of the Lambs)
You are intimidated by him at first, but his hypnotic voice grows on you. He always sounds so self assured, but never assertive. He has an almost paternal quality to him, making you feel simultaneously comfortable and protected.
He always listens to you intently, you never feel ignored by him. Hannibal is the only one that makes you feel seen and you tell him as much. "Oh everyone sees you my dear, you can be assured of that, but not everyone has the courage to acknowledge you. Keep this in mind for the next time you should feel the urge to do something drastic for attention."
You were worried you would eventually do something to turn him away, as you had to so many therapists before him. However, he simply scoffs at the idea that you could ever do anything that could possibly frighten him or upset him.
When you finally have the courage to tell him about the violent intrusive thoughts he remains as calm as ever. "In the past, we humans had to hunt to survive. We also had to protect ourselves and our kin. As time goes on, that propensity for violence remains, even if our survival is no longer dependent on it."
Bonus: You come clean to him about getting into a fight with someone, being entirely overtaken by rage and paranoia. You call yourself a monster and cry. "I have worked with serial killers, family annihilators, rapists the worst that the world has to offer. I know monsters. You are not one. You wanna know why?" You nod yes. "Because my dear, you have remorse and regret for your actions, they do not. Besides, you would not be sitting here with me if you did not want the anger to control you."
AO3 || Guidelines || Request || Ko-Fi
#divider by animatedglittergraphics n more#that is halston sage that i put as harley quinn because no offense but i do not acknowledge margot harley#also we have yet to see how gaga's harley is & anyway i keep the todd phillipps stuff separately#hannibal x reader#hannibal x you#hannibal x gn reader#scarecrow x reader#scarecrow x you#jonathan crane x you#jonathan crane x reader#jonathan crane x gn reader#scarecrow x gn reader#harley quinn x reader#harley quinn x you#no use of y/n#dc scarecrow#cillian murphy scarecrow#mads mikkelsen characters#the silence of the lambs#anthony hopkins hannibal#mads mikkelsen hannibal#nbc hannibal#reader insert#hannibal headcanons#scarecrow headcanons#harley quinn headcanons#reader headcanons#therapy fic#hurt/comfort
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More DAD!Harry pleasssseee like baby boy pouting because he wants to be treated like a big boy and Harry can't help but kiss his chubby cheeks????
PLEASNJENJRF I love dadrry so much
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"What is the frown for, peanut?" Harry's voice echoed in the kitchen as he saw his son sitting with his arms crossed in his booster seat. The tv show themed plate and cup set sat in front of him, Y/N having served lunch to them both and excusing herself to grab her own. "Do you not want this?"
It was his favorite. Grilled cheese that Y/N had cut into smaller squares, goldfish crackers, cut up grapes and strawberries neatly arranged on the plate and apple juice in his cup. He couldn't quite see anything wrong with it, but he had been reminded that toddlers changed their minds about their likes all the time.
"It's baby." He whispered, looking at the printed cup. Paw Patrol characters decorated the sides of the sippy cup. "Don't want to be baby. I want to be a big boy." His eyes looked up at Harry's, the color strikingly similar to his own as his brows furrowed.
"What demean, mate?" he looked at the food. "Nothin' too baby about it. Looks like a great meal that mumma made for us. Don't you like Paw Patrol?" the man reached out to brush some of the curls from his son's face, heart clenching a bit. He was the perfect mix of his younger self and his wife. He was growing up much to fast for Harry's liking. It felt like just the other day that he had been in the baby sling while Harry did the dishes, trying to keep him asleep by singing as to not disturb an exhausted Y/N who had just fallen asleep on the couch.
"It's baby." He looked down, kicking his feet. The light up shoes activated as they hit against the side of the table, feeling a little shy with his father's attention. "Want a big cup like you. Please?" His little voice tugged at his heartstrings, the earnest want in his tone making him purse his lips.
"Well... we can, but I have to say, I may steal the cup for myself." He sighed, looking at it in faux longing. "I've always wanted a cup like that. It's too cool for me though. Besides, it makes sure there's no spills. Y'don't want to get all sticky with the juice if it spills over, right?" He rubbed over his little cheek, watching as he visibly worked through what his daddy had said. It was a wonder to observe, seeing someone so new to life have such obvious emotions and though processes on his face.
"You like the cup?" He peeped. "It's cool?" his hands tugged at the bottom of his shirt as he looked at the cup Harry had taken in his hand. Seeing his father show interest meant it must be cool.
"I do. It's the coolest, and besides.. Mumma looked for ages for this cup for you." He smiled. "Why don't you use It for a while and we can get you a big cup in a few weeks, okay? I may steal the cup if you don't want to use it."
"No, Daddy! It's mine!" giggles left his now bright eyes. "You ca borrow it but.. it's cool. You said so. " The chubby hands reached for the cup which the man handed over, feigning hesitation.
"Okay, my lovely. But you better watch your back. I may come and take it."
#jarofstyles#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles smut#harry writing#harry styles imagine#harry drabble#harry styles blurb#dad!harry#dadrry#dad harry styles#dad harry#parent Harry#Harry blurb#Harry blurbs#Harry styles fluff#harry styles fic#Harry styles au#Harry styles blurbs
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Longing
Summary: Bucky is feeling down, and you're the only one who can bring him back to himself. Warnings: smut (18+, minors don't interact), fingering. Notes: Let me know if you'd like me to write any specific scenarios or stories :) reblogs and comments are appreciated!
Major John Bucky Egan was devastated. The news of Buck not returning from his last mission spread quickly at the base camp. You saw people try to talk to him and cheer him up in their own way, but Bucky was drenched in alcohol most of the time and with huge dark bags under his eyes. You decided it was your turn to try and bring his hopes up. Couldn't hurt.
You knocked on his door, calling out his name from the outside.
Bucky lifted his head from where he sat at the table, looking up at you with slightly bleary eyes. He cleared his throat as he pulled himself together, trying to sober up in mere seconds. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice gruff. You peered inside his room.
You knew he would brush you off if you asked if he was okay. Instead, you made him believe you needed him. "Do you mind if I come in and stay with you for a little? I can't sleep."
Bucky paused for a moment, seeming just tired enough to fall for your trick. He shifted slightly in his seat, nodding slowly as he sat up. "Yeah. Yeah, come here." he pointed to his bed. "Sit with me."
"Thanks." you spoke as you closed the door behind you and sat next to him.
Bucky watched wordlessly as you sat down next to him, leaning forward and resing his elbows on his knees. He was quiet for a moment before he spoke. "You said you couldn't sleep?" he questioned, tilting his head slightly so he could look at you.
You nodded. "Yeah... I had coffee, more than one cup."
He chuckled lightly, running a hand through his messy hair. "Yeah, that'll do it to ya. Caffeine's a cruel mistress like that."
"Well, I wanted some. So I had it."
"And now you have to suffer the consequences." he mused along, taking a few moments to look you over. "You look tired." he pointed out, as if it wasn't obvious.
"Thanks." you chuckled.
Bucky smirked ever so slightly, rolling his eyes. "You know what I mean. You look exhausted. When was the last time you got a full night of sleep?"
You looked at him for a second before answering. "It's been a while, actually. The infirmary's been a complete chaos lately."
His expression softened, a flicker of concern in his eyes. "When's the last time you clocked off?" he asked, a hint of protective tone in his voice.
You looked at him for a while. "It's been a couple of weeks, but it's alright, we're short on staff! And it's not like I haven't done it before!"
That answer didn't seem to appease Bucky at all. His lips pressed into a firm, unamused line and he fixe you with a stern look. "Bullshit. It's not alright. You're runnin' yourself into the ground. How many hours did you work this week?" he inquried.
"I'm not exactly counting."
Bucky sighed in frustration, shaking his head. "Of course you're not." He paused for a moment, studying you. You could almost see the gears turning as he thought about what to say next. "When's the last time you ate?" he finally questioned.
"C'mon John, I'm eating alright." you insisted.
The Major shot you a doubtful look, his expression serious. "I'm being serious. You look like you haven't had a proper meal in weeks. When's the last time you ate a full meal?"
"Maybe you can eat lunch with me tomorrow."
"I'm not asking that." he said with a sigh, his voice just barely above a whisper. "I want to know when the last time you ate a full goddamn meal was. Tell me the truth."
You looked at the door. "Yesterday, I think."
Bucky raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical of your response. "Yesterday?" he repeated. "You think?"
"Bucky, I'm alright. I'm just really tired."
His irritation grew tenfold at this, his patience at an all-time low. "You ain't alright, you're being reckless." he retorted gruffly. "Look at you, you look like a damn zombie. 'I'm just tired' my ass."
You let the room fall silent for a few seconds. "And how are you?" you finally decided to ask.
Bucky almost froze at the question. He was a mess, even he could see that for himself. For a moment, he thought about brushing off your question. Giving the standard, generic answer. But he couldn't. He knew how he was, and you deserved the truth more than anything. "Like garbage." he finally admitted, quietly after a few moments.
"I'm worried about you Bucky." you began. "You barely come by the infirmary anymore."
He lokoed down, docusing his eyes on his hands as you spoke. "I've been busy." he mumbled half heartedly, knowing damn well it was a blatant lie.
"Too busy to visit me?" you simply asked.
Bucky internally winced at that, his heart aching. "No." he said, his voice cracking slightly from guilt. "I- I just... it's hard, y'know?"
You nodded. "I get it. I can go by just fine without your visits." you tried to win him over with humor.
It seemed to work, even just slightly. He lifted his head, looking at you with a tired hino of playful sarcasmo in his eyes. "Is that so?" he questioned, a soft smile on his face.
"Oh I'm sure of it. It's been real peaceful without you pestering me at work."
He huffed, a soft chuckled escaping his lips. "That's rich, coming from you. You're always bugging me." he pointed out, shifting in his seat to get a different angle of you.
"But that you love."
"You're making that up." Bucky denied, though his smirk didn't falter. He tried so hard to ignore the flutter in his heart he got as he looked at you - his gaze almost involuntarily flicking down for a moment to your lips.
"I don't think I am." you smiled at him.
He paused, his heart giving another flutter as he saw you smile. It'd been a while since he'd seen that smile. He chuckled softly, shaling his head and running his hand through his hair. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"
Your expression of surprise came quickly to your face. After a few seconds in silence you spoke again. "You're drunk." You chuckled at him.
Bucky let out another soft huff at that, but he didn't deny it. "Maybe a little." he admitted, that smirk on his face returning. "And what about it?"
"You're not making sense, that's what."
Bucky raised an eyebrow at that, looking at you with an amused expression. "And what about it doesn't make sense?" he asked, tilting his head slightly. "I said you drive me crase. You do."
"Bucky..." you started but he interrupted you as he got closer to you, before grabbing your hand gently.
His calloused hand wrapping around yours like it belonged there. He was quiet for a moment, looking at you with a mixture of affection and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on. He almost looked a little nervous.
"Are you okay?" you asked.
Another loaded question.
He opened his mouth to answer but stopped himself. His gaze falls from your face down to his hand holding yours. Bucky was quiet for a few more moments, his grip on your hand almost imperceptibly tighter. His tongue darted out to lick his lips, the words stuck in his throat. He took a shaky breath, lifting his gaze back up to your face. "No. " he finally said, shaking his head slightly as he did. "I'm not okay." His expression serious. "But you make it hurt a little less."
Bucky's eyes flicked back and forth, analising your features. He sighed softly, his guard completely down. "Look at me." he softly insisted, his voice barely above a whisper.
You did as he asked, first his eyes and then his lips. God, he was handsome, specially under the dim lights of his room.
"You have no idea," he said, his voice low, "how hard it was to stay away from you the past few weeks."
His hand kept around your own as he spoke. He could be so gentle if he wanted to. Bucky softly tun his thumb in small circles against the back of your hand, trying to focus on that instead of the growing urge within himself. "I missed you so damn much." he murmered, his voice just barely above a whisper.
You cut him off by closing the gap between your lips.
He let out a soft, almost involuntary sound as he returned the kiss, his free hand moving to cup your face. His hand fently tugged you closer, as if he was afraid you'd pull away.
In turn, you grabbed his uniform's shirt tight between your fingers, pulling him closer to you.
Any thoughts of restraint or resistance melted out of Bucky's brain the moment he felt you grab him. His hand moved to your waist, his grip firm as he pulled you into his lap. "God, I missed you." he mumbled against your lips.
You didn't respond, just climbed on his lap and grabbed the nape of his neck with both your hands, never breaking the kiss you two shared.
Bucky let out another soft sound as you did. His hands sliding to your hips, the feeling of your body against his nearly overwhelming. He kissed you passionately, his tongue gently running along your bottom lip as if he was pleading for more.
He broke your kiss only to kiss your neck, your head rolled back as he catched it with one of his hands.
Bucky's kisses gently yet firm, as he moved along your skin. He could hear the sound of your breath catching in yout throat, his brain nearly short-circuiting from yout little sounds of pleasure.
One of his hands found its way under your dhirt, his fingers tracing along the warm skin of your back.
His hands were rough on your back, but you didn't mind it.
Bucky's lips returned to yours, his kisses a bit more desperate now. He wanted to be closer to you, to have your body against his. One of his hands slid up your body, gently resting against your ribcage. His thumb lightly teased against the underside of your breast.
His touch sent shivers through your whole body.
He broke the kiss for a moment, his chest heaving with want. "You're so damn Beautiful." he murmured, his hand gently gripping your hip as he kept you against him.
You moaned quietly at his words, the way he was holding you down on his lap by your hips was making you dizzy.
He noticed your reaction, the soft sounds of your monas driving him wild. He used his grip on your hip to push you down to grind against him slightly, a soft smirk on his face. "You like that?" he asked, his voice gruff.
You nodded out of desperation.
Bucky let out a soft chuckle, rolling his hips against you to give you a but more friction. "You can't even speak, huh?" he taunted you lightly.
"I can speak." you managed to say quietly.
"Then try sayin' something." he mumbled against the skin of your neck, continuing to push his hips against you ever so slightly.
"Your hands." you pleaded him.
You heard his groan, his grip on your hips tightening as he took in your request. "What about my hands?" he mumbled, his lips moving down from your neck to your collarbone.
You let go of his neck to grab his right hand and position it near your core.
He could feel the heat practically radiating from you, the thought alone nearly sending him over the edge. His fingers gently traced along the edge of your pants, as if he was silently asking you for permission to continue. You gave it to him.
Bucky wasted no time. He was a man of action after all.
He pushed your pants to the Side, his fingertips ghosting along your soaked core. He let out another soft moan against your skin, the feeling of you driving him crazy. "You're so wet, darling." he mumbled as he started to rub small circles, moving slowly to work you up even more.
Your reactions, the little sounds you were making, the way you were grinding against his hand - it was almost too much for him to handle. His fingers teased at your entrance, occasionally slipping inside to drive you absolutely crazy. "I could listen to you all night." he mumbled, his voice low and rough with want.
"John" you trailed off.
Bucky lifted his head from your neck to look at you, his fingers still working at you. "Yeah?" he breathed out, doing his damned bect to keep some control of himself.
"I need you."
Bucky practically groaned at the sound of your voice, the want in your tone nearly making his head spin with a primal need to bury himself inside you. "Say it again." he told you breathlessly, adding a second finger inside you.
You only managed to moan louder.
"God you sound perfect." his lips just below your car. "I need you so bad it hurts."
"Please" you whined quietly.
"You don't ever have to ask me please." his voice sincere.
He lifted his head to look at you, his breathing ragged. His fingers curling slightly on their own, making you let out another delicious sound.
"Make me come." the words come out of your tired mouth.
He moved his fingers faster, adding a third, knowing exactly what to do based on the sounds you were making. "I'll take care of you. "he assured you. "I'll take care of you, I promise."
And he did. In a matter of seconds, you were coming undone on top of his lap.
Bucky watched intently as you came, his fingers working you through it. He then gently removed his hand, bringin it to his mouth and licking his fingers clean with a low moan.
His free hand moved to gently brush the hair from your face, his thumb tracing your cheek as he looked at you with affection and desire.
You looked down at him after that. "What is it?"
Bucky chuckled, gently lifting your chin for you to look at him. "You look so damn beautiful when you're all flushed like this." he told you, a hino of pride in his voice as he added, "I did that."
"Yes you did." you chuckled quietly.
His smiled returned, his hand moving to cup your cheek ever so gently. He was quiet for a moment, just studying you as he tried to find the right words. "I've been a real idiot, sweetheart." he finally said, his voice soft. "I shoud've come by sooner..."
"Don't worry about that."
"I do worry. You've gotta stop lettin' me be a dumbass, you know that?"
"Me?" you chuckled. "I have nothing to do with that!"
Bucky's grip on you tightened, his expression still serious. "Bullshit." he insisted, shaking his head. "You have everything to do with that. You could set me straight if you wanted to, I'd listen to you in a heartbeat."
You smiled at him. "The I'll be wiser with my choices from now on."
John returned your smile with a smirk, his hand moving to rest against the side of your neck. "Damn right you will be." he told you, tugging you closer to him. "Gotta make up for lost time, sweetheart."
#john bucky egan#john egan x reader#john egan imagine#john egan#major john egan#major john bucky egan#callum turner major john bucky egan#bucky egan#mastersoftheair#callum turner#john bucky egan x reader#john egan fanfiction#john egan smut#mota#mota fanfic#callum turner x you#callum turner x reader#callum turner fanfiction#callum turner imagine#mota imagine#mota smut#bucky x reader#bucky x you
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The Bet
Pairing: Kix x fem!Reader / Kix x Nurse!Reader
Words: 8,981
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! coworkers to friends to lovers, some blood/wound care but it's very minor, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), a hint of a praise kink
Summary: You and Kix have been dancing around each other for months. When losing a bet finds you alone in your apartment together for the first time, sparks fly.
A/N: I honestly was not a Kix girlie before writing this, so hopefully he's not too ooc!
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“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
Kix watches you move about your small kitchen from his seat at the counter. The beer he nurses in his hand is still cool, the condensation softening the label enough for his thumb to peel, a nervous habit you notice but are too polite to mention.
You pause your stirring momentarily to throw him an exasperated look over your shoulder.
“I know.”
“I’m just saying you don’t need to do all this for me,” he says, gesturing towards the stove where a large pot bubbles, a delicious scent wafting through the air. “Pizza would’ve been fine.”
“And miss the opportunity to show off my excellent cooking?” you ask with a scoff, though it lacks any real conviction.
You turn to face him. He looks so out of place in your tiny apartment, perched on the stool that is dwarfed by his size. His shoulders hunch as if he's trying to make himself seem smaller, a feat in itself for someone so large.
You try to give him a smile that's more encouraging than teasing. “Not a chance.”
He shakes his head, returning the grin with one of his own as he looks down at his hands. The smile falls away when he sees the state of the label he had been absently peeling. He grimaces and balls up the ruined paper before throwing it at the trash can, a small ping echoing through the apartment as it lands in the center of the bin.
The corner of your mouth twitches into a smirk, and you roll your eyes playfully. Kix chuckles softly, and some of the tension dissipates from the room.
It's nice to hear him laugh after the week you've both had. You'd been near dead on your feet by the time the Resolute docked on Coruscant, but you'd promised Kix a proper home-cooked meal, and you weren't about to renege on your deal. A bet was a bet, after all.
Bets between the two of you were far from an unusual occurrence. Normally, it was simple things: what they were serving in the mess for breakfast, how many hangover remedies you'd have to administer after shore leave, or even just something as silly as who could finish their work faster. It had become so common to the point that the 501st was more than used to seeing you and Kix going back and forth, betting on just about everything.
This time was no different. You'd been arguing over a patient's chart one morning, and it had escalated until the two of you had settled on a bet. Whoever could get the most patients through their physical would win.
The only thing was that, by the time the two of you finally had the opportunity to settle the score, Kix had gotten the entire company in on it, and had somehow managed to get Rex to take his side. You had been absolutely furious at the time, but you got over it quickly when he made his request.
He could have chosen anything. He could have made you stay late or fill out paperwork for a week. He could have had you do something embarrassing.
Instead, he asked you to cook him dinner.
You don't have a lot of time outside of work, so when you do, you cook. It's your favorite hobby and one you're actually pretty good at. You take great pride in it. Cooking for Kix though? That's different.
It's not that you don't want to do it. On the contrary, you're thrilled by the opportunity. It's just that you want it to be perfect.
The apartment is quiet save for the sound of your work. You have the radio playing, the volume turned low so the music is more background noise than anything. You don't mind. You've always liked the sound of rain, and it gives you the opportunity to listen for Kix.
You'd noticed over the course of your friendship that Kix is usually quiet when he's comfortable. It had taken a while, but you learned his different silences. It was the same way he analyzed you: by the cadence of your footsteps and the tone of your voice. You'd learned to read him through those subtle indicators, and he had done the same.
Right now, he's content. There's no tension in his shoulders, and his breathing is even. You know he's watching you, his eyes tracking your movements. He looks a lot more relaxed here than he does at work, which isn't surprising. You've seen each other nearly every day since the start of the war, but you've never been able to spend time together like this. You're friends, sure, but you're also attracted to him, and you'd like to think he feels the same.
You've been dancing around each other for months, but neither one is brave enough to say something about it.
You make small talk, talking about nothing and everything while you cook. It's pleasant and comfortable and nice. You can feel his eyes on you as you work. The kitchen is small enough that he can watch you easily without having to leave his seat. You know he's enjoying the show.
“So, what are we having?” he asks.
You can hear the curiosity in his voice and grin.
When he'd made the request, he'd said he was up for anything, but you wanted it to be special. You have a plan, one that you hope he'll like.
You turn around, propping your elbows on the counter and leaning forward. He mirrors your position, and you're so close your noses almost touch.
His eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn't pull back. You tilt your head. “It’s a surprise.”
And a good one, you hoped. You weren’t sure the last time you put this much effort into a single meal, but if you were going to impress him, you wanted to do it right.
You'd started the process early this morning and had been checking and rechecking your progress throughout the day. You're making a traditional Alderaanian dish, one of your favorites, and one you're pretty confident you can pull off. You're not a chef by any stretch of the imagination, but you know your way around a kitchen and have been told by those who love you that your cooking is exceptional.
You can only hope he'll agree.
Of course, this was a man who preferred to subsist entirely on ration bars and caf, who forgot to eat unless you forced him out of the medbay, but you still found yourself hoping to wow him with your family’s recipes.
When Kix showed up at your door, you could tell that he was nervous. You were too, but you tried not to let it show. You were doing this because you liked him, not to get a reaction out of him, but the anticipation of his response was enough to make your heart flutter in your chest.
He looked more than a little disarmed at the sight of you in your civilian clothes, and the feeling was mutual. You didn't think you'd ever seen him out of armor. When you invited him inside, he pulled out a bouquet of daylilies from behind his back, sheepishly explaining that Jesse insisted he shouldn’t show up empty-handed.
The bouquet he’d given you was beautiful. You didn’t have a vase to put them in, so they were soaking in water in the largest coffee mug you could find with ‘Galaxy’s Best Nurse’ in gaudy red letters on the side. You hoped they wouldn’t wilt before you could find something better to put them in. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time anyone had bought you flowers.
Kix was sweet, sweeter than you ever anticipated from your first meeting. On your first day aboard the Resolute, when Captain Rex first introduced you as the resident nurse aboard the ship, Kix took one long look at you and promptly rolled his eyes.
“She's not gonna last a week.”
Rex had looked ready to throttle him, but you merely gave him a wry grin and told him you were more than capable of doing your job.
He was quick to apologize, though you could tell he was more than a little skeptical, and the two of you had spent the better part of that first month trying to get on the other's good side. The first time he laughed at one of your jokes, it was like the floodgates opened. After that, it was easy, and the two of you quickly fell into an easy friendship.
You came to realize being blunt was just his way, though Kix was never as short with you as he was with his brothers. Jesse said it was because he had a soft spot for you, but you were more inclined to believe he just didn’t want to create a hostile work environment.
That was months ago, and a lot has changed since.
You enjoyed Kix. His dry humor always caught you off guard, even if you were getting used to it. He seemed to enjoy making you laugh. And at the end of a long day, he was always the first to ask if you needed help cleaning up the medbay, always the first to offer to walk you back to your quarters.
You shared plenty of late nights together, sometimes going over patient files or stocking supplies. Other times you simply sat together in the quiet, enjoying each other’s company.
You grew close. It was only natural.
Still, it didn't feel natural to invite him over for a home-cooked meal. You'd never been anything but professional with each other, even in private. You'd never seen him in civvies before and had certainly never imagined that his hair, longer now than you’ve ever seen it, might curl a little in the humidity.
It wasn't fair, really, how much you enjoyed the sight of him.
You had spent the day wondering if this was the right decision. You worried you were reading too much into his request, that you were imagining the interest you thought you saw. But if nothing else, you hoped tonight would provide some insight.
You wanted this to go well.
You didn’t know how much of that was for your sake or his.
You push back from the counter, and Kix makes no move to follow. You turn back to the stove and continue working, a grin pulling at your lips. You don’t think he realizes that you can feel his gaze on you. He doesn't make any attempt to hide his staring.
The silence between you isn’t uncomfortable, but there is an undercurrent of something else, a tension you're not sure what to do with. You know that you aren't the only one feeling this way. He'd been nervous when he first arrived, and though he was more at ease now, the tension hadn't dissipated.
It's not an unwelcome feeling. If anything, it's the opposite. You enjoy knowing he's watching you, that you’re having some kind of effect on him. You enjoy having him here, alone. It's a different sort of intimacy, a different kind of closeness. You wonder if it's a step in the right direction.
You're not sure what to expect from him, but whatever it is, you're ready for it.
“How long until dinner is ready, doc? I'm starving over here." You don't have to turn to see him smile. You can hear it in his voice.
"Don't rush me," you scold, and he chuckles. "Dinner isn't ready until it's ready."
"I can't believe you're making me wait. It smells delicious."
"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," you say, and you glance over your shoulder at him. "I was worried you wouldn't."
Kix raises his eyebrows. "Worried? About what?"
You turn away. "I don't know. I thought maybe you'd be disappointed."
"Why would I be disappointed?" he asks, sounding genuinely confused.
"I don't know." You shrug. "Maybe because we haven't really hung out before, and maybe you didn't want to, and—“
"No," he says, cutting you off. "I like spending time with you. I wanted to come."
You swallow, trying to keep your expression neutral despite the sudden tightness in your chest. "Oh."
"Besides, I've been meaning to ask for a while."
"Ask me what?" you ask, looking over at him.
He gives a half-shrug, the corner of his mouth twitching. "To have dinner with you."
Your face grows warm, and your stomach does a flip. You try to focus on the food, but it's difficult when all you can think about is the man behind you.
You hadn't realized just how much you wanted him to say that until he did.
"If it helps, I can promise that you won't regret it," you say, throwing a grin over your shoulder.
He leans his chin on his palm, grinning back. "I'm sure I won't."
You set a pot of water on the stove and turn on the burner.
"What're you doing?" he asks, sounding concerned.
"Boiling water."
"For what?"
"Kebroots."
He looks confused. "Aren't we having that stuff you're making now?"
"This is the sauce for the main dish," you say, gesturing with your spoon. It's easy to forget that he's never had a proper home-cooked meal in his life, and the thought of him getting to taste this one is more than a little thrilling. "The kebroots are going in the water."
"Why?"
"Because they need to boil."
He gives you a flat look, and you roll your eyes. "Do you want to know the answer to everything, or do you want to enjoy the surprise?"
"Fine," he says, sitting back. "But don't think you can keep me from learning your secrets."
You raise your eyebrows at him. "Is that so?"
He nods, grinning.
"Well, then," you say, smiling down at the pot. "I'll have to make sure you don't."
You're not usually one to play your cards so close to the vest. It's not like you to keep secrets, but there's something fun about the intrigue, something thrilling about keeping him in the dark.
"Can I at least have a hint?" he asks, resting his elbows on the counter.
You turn and prop yourself against the stove. "No. I already told you. It's a surprise."
"Come on, doc. You can't give me something?" he wheedles, his brown eyes sparkling with mirth. "Just a little something to tide me over."
"No."
"Please?"
"Nope."
"You're no fun."
"And yet, here you are,” you say with a teasing tilt of your head.
Kix grins, then sighs.
"Fine," he says and pushes back from the counter. "If that's the case, then I'm going to need more beer."
He disappears into the fridge. You don't turn, focusing instead on the task at hand. The sauce is nearly finished, but there are still a few steps left to complete.
You hear him move to your bookshelf, fingers lightly tapping along the spines of your books. You'd been surprised when he mentioned enjoying reading, since most clones you'd met didn't bother with it, preferring instead to watch holodramas or listen to the radio. But Kix liked books, which you were sure he kept to himself for fear of teasing from his brothers. You had a sneaking suspicion he was a romantic.
He stops to pull one out, running his fingers down the spine. "The Time Machine," he reads.
"It was one of my favorites as a kid," you explain. "I'm surprised it survived the trip here."
Kix puts it back in its place. "Have you ever read any of the Corellian Civil War holonovels?"
"No.” You shake your head. “I've never been a fan of war stories."
Kix snorts. "Me neither. There's only so many ways they can tell the same story."
"There's nothing like real-life experience," you say, and you immediately regret it.
"True," Kix agrees and doesn't press the matter. You’re thankful, your heart in your throat, that you hadn’t ruined the moment entirely, but you can’t help but feel a little on edge.
The two had been working together for several months, and though it wasn't uncommon for clone troopers and nat-born people to befriend one another, there was still an underlying tension between you, one that neither of you had the guts to address.
He'd asked you for dinner because he liked you. You accepted because you liked him.
Neither was quite sure what to do next.
The tension between you had grown more pronounced, and though neither of you made any effort to stop it, the unresolved feelings were starting to affect your work. You were both professionals and did your best not to let it interfere, but it was still there, a constant reminder of what was unsaid, a potential opportunity squandered.
Still, if you were going to pursue a relationship with anyone, you were glad it was him.
You had a fondness for him, and it had grown into something deeper. It wasn't just his looks. Though he was definitely the most handsome trooper in the GAR, that was never a primary consideration for you. You’ve spent nearly every waking moment around men who looked almost exactly like him, after all. But it was the differences, the small nuances that made him stand out, that drew your eye.
With the water finally boiling, you turn back to chopping the kebroot. The vegetable is a bit tricky to handle, its tough outer skin resisting the knife's edge. You steady your hand, apply more pressure, and try again.
You’re grateful Kix seems to be distracted by your books, allowing you to focus. If he saw you struggling, he’d probably try to offer help, and you want to do this on your own.
He was right earlier, when he said you didn't need to do all this for him.
You don't.
But you want to.
He's a good man, a hard worker, and you want to show him your appreciation. He deserves someone to take care of him for once.
When you think about it, the whole thing seems silly. You're grown adults, not hormonal teenagers. You can't believe you're making such a big deal out of something so simple.
But it is a big deal, and not just because he's the first man you've found attractive in a long time. It's the fact that you've been dancing around this for months, if not longer, and now you finally have an opportunity to explore the potential between you.
You’ve been trying your best not to picture him here, but with him in the apartment, it was difficult not to imagine. You worked together. You were friends. It was easy for you to forget that, and even easier to let your imagination run wild.
You can see him in the kitchen, helping you chop vegetables, or washing dishes at the sink. You can see him on the couch, his arm draped over the back, his legs spread wide, his head tilted back in a laugh. You can see him in bed, and that's where your mind wanders to the most.
You imagine how it might feel to kiss him, to touch him, to have him touch you. You wonder if he'll be gentle or if he'll be rough. You don't have a preference. You don't care as long as it's him. You want him to hold you. You want to feel him pressed against you, his chest against yours, his mouth against your neck, his hands running up your sides, slipping underneath your shirt—
You hiss out a curse as the knife slips, nicking the fleshy part of your finger. Blood wells up, a stark contrast against the green of the ruica.
"You okay?" Kix asks.
"I'm fine," you answer quickly.
You reach blindly for the towel, wrapping the cloth around the cut, trying to apply pressure. The cut isn’t deep, but it stings like hell.
"What happened?" he asks, appearing at your side.
"Nothing. I'm fine."
"Let me see," he says, and grabs the wrist of the hand holding the towel.
"It's not bad," you say and are about to pull away, but he doesn’t let go. He guides you to the sink and holds your hand under the tepid water. His eyes flicker from the wound to your face and back again, brows furrowed in a way you know means he’s gone into medic mode.
“Kix, I’m fine,” you huff. You try to withdraw your wrist, but he holds fast.
"Stop moving. You're bleeding all over the counter."
“Sorry,” you say. You can feel your cheeks burning. You should have been more careful.
His hands are warm. The pressure feels good. You can't remember the last time someone touched you like this. You want to pull away, to spare yourself the embarrassment of being this close to him, but he doesn't seem to mind. If anything, he seems determined.
“Where’s your med kit?” he asks, eyes still fixed on your hand.
You tell him where to find it, and he firmly instructs you to keep your hand under the water before he breaks into a jog toward the bathroom.
“Sit,” Kix commands when he returns, his tone no-nonsense.
You can't help but laugh.
He shoots you a glare as he opens the kit and begins removing the supplies. "I'm serious, doc. Sit."
He's so cute when he's bossy.
"Alright," you relent, pulling out a chair and sitting down. He grabs the chair across from you and drags it closer, positioning himself directly across from you.
"Gimme your hand," he orders, and you do as you're told, holding it out for him. He gently peels the towel back and sets it aside. You don't dare look. You're too embarrassed.
“Seriously, you don’t have to,” you assure him, but he just shakes his head and dabs the blood away with a clean corner of the towel.
“Should’ve known you’d be a Code 5,” he says your code word for a difficult patient with a roll of his eyes. He's only half joking.
“It’s a cut, not a stab wound,” you reply indignantly.
Kix shakes his head and reaches for the alcohol wipe. He opens it with his teeth and begins cleaning the area around the wound.
"I know that," he says, his voice softer. “I just don’t like seeing you hurt.”
He looks away to discard the wipe, and when he meets your gaze again, his eyes are filled with warmth and something else.
You don’t know how to respond.
It's a look that speaks volumes.
His touch is gentle, his fingers brushing against your palm. It's not necessary, but he does it anyway.
“Just let me take care of you,” Kix says quietly, his gaze locked on yours. “Please. For my sake.”
“Alright.” You nod, biting your lip once he turns away to grab a bandage. The intensity in his gaze surprises you. It’s different than the look he wears when you’re in the midst of surgery, different from the easy smile he wears when you’re with the men. This is something new, something unexpected.
It feels personal.
He tears the backing off the bandage and presses it gently over the cut. You try to focus on his hands instead of his face. His fingers are rough and calloused, and you how they'd feel against your bare skin.
The thought makes your stomach flutter.
It's not a foreign feeling. You've thought about this before, more times than you care to admit, but this is the first time you've been so close. This is the first time you let him.
When he finishes, he presses a kiss to your bandaged finger. The action is quick, almost thoughtless, and it catches you off guard. Kix freezes. His lips linger for a moment too long, and his cheeks flush pink.
He pulls back. "Sorry," he mumbles, not meeting your eyes.
"It's okay," you say, smiling shyly.
You're touched by the gesture. It's sweet and considerate, and exactly the sort of thing he'd do. His cheeks are flushed. You can't tell if he's embarrassed or if it's the proximity.
Your hand folds back into your lap. You can still feel the warmth of his lips on your skin. You don't know why the kiss affects you so much. It's not the first time you've been kissed, and it certainly won't be the last, but something about his touch makes your pulse quicken.
"You're sweet," you say, trying to lighten the mood.
He grins, shaking his head. "Don't let that get around."
"My lips are sealed."
He glances down at your mouth, his grin fading. You feel a thrill rush through you, the hair on the back of your neck standing up. Your heart starts to beat faster.
"Good," he whispers, his voice low and husky.
You don't move.
You don't want to break the spell.
Kix's eyes search yours, looking for some sign of reciprocation. He's giving you a chance to tell him no, to push him away.
Instead, your hand comes up to cup his cheek. Your thumb brushes across his bottom lip. You feel the breath leave his lungs, feel him lean into your touch. His eyes are hooded, pupils blown wide.
"Kix?"
"Yeah?" he whispers.
"You should kiss me," you breathe.
Kix rises to his feet, leaning down so that his face is only inches from yours. You take in his features, his warm eyes, the way they're trained on your lips, the way he's watching your every move as if waiting for you to change your mind.
His thumb caresses your cheek, and he waits a breath more before leaning in to press his lips to yours.
You sigh into his touch, bringing your other hand up to grab the back of his head. The kiss is soft, unhurried, a slow slide of lips.
Your tongue slides across his bottom lip, and he groans, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. His hands roam over your shoulders, down your back, over your hips, his fingertips brushing the exposed skin above your waistband.
You part, and you let your forehead rest against his, both of you catching your breath. Eventually, you pull back, swallowing nervously.
"I'm sorry," you say. "I don't know why I did that."
"I do," he replies.
You look up in surprise and find him watching you. His eyes are bright, and he's smiling, a real smile, not the forced one he sometimes uses around others.
"I've wanted to do that since the day we met," he admits, his cheeks reddening slightly. "And I'm not sorry it happened."
"Really?" you ask, trying not to sound too eager.
He nods, the hand on your cheek moving to play with the ends of your hair. "You're beautiful. And smart. And you take no shit, especially from me. What’s not to like?"
You laugh and lean in to kiss him again. He returns the kiss eagerly, his hand resting on your lower back to pull you closer.
"I wasn't going to say anything," he continues between kisses. "I didn't think you would want this."
"Well, I do." You grin. "Very much."
He groans and leans in to capture your lips again, but you stop him with a finger to his lips. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue.
"The food's burning."
Kix's eyes go wide, and he rounds the counter in a flash, quickly grabbing the pot off the burner and setting it aside.
"Shit," he curses, and you can't help but laugh at the panicked expression on his face.
"Relax. I'm kidding," you say, and you follow him to wrap your arms around waist. He relaxes into your touch, his hands coming up to rest on your hips.
“Can it be reheated?” he asks, his expression hopeful.
You quirk an eyebrow. “Yeah.”
“Good.”
His hands slide up to cup either side of your face and pull you into another kiss, one you can feel all the way down to your toes. He presses you up against the counter, his body flush against yours.
You whine into his mouth at the feeling of his tongue against yours, your fingers gripping his hair to ground yourself. He tastes like beer and something else, something dark and earthy.
It's delicious, and you can't get enough.
His lips leave yours to trail across your cheek to your neck, peppering kisses along your jaw, his teeth scraping along your pulse.
"We should probably wait until after dinner to do this," you breathe, tilting your head to give him better access.
"I can't," he replies, his voice rough, his hands roaming across your body.
"Me either," you agree, and let him lift you onto the counter. Your legs wrap around his hips instinctively, your hands cupping his face as you bring him in for another kiss.
His hands are everywhere, his touch electric, and you want him to touch you everywhere, his hands and his lips, his mouth and his tongue.
Your hands slide underneath his shirt, pushing the material up until he has to withdraw to pull it off over his head. You take in the expanse of his bare torso, the way the muscles ripple under your touch, and your heart feels like it's about to beat out of your chest.
"You're gorgeous," you say, your hands coming to rest on his chest. You could feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm, his chest rising and falling with each breath.
"You are," he says. "And I've wanted this for so long."
He reaches behind you to remove your shirt, leaving you in your bra and pants. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and you want him to touch you, to make you feel good, to ease the ache that's been building inside you since the first time he smiled at you.
He dips his head to kiss you again, his hands sliding up to tangle in your hair. Your mouth opens to his, and he takes advantage, deepening the kiss and pushing his tongue against yours. He nips at your bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth, and you moan, pulling him closer.
His lips travel across your jaw, down your neck, along your collarbone. His hands find the clasp of your bra and make quick work of the latch, leaving you bare. You shiver, the cool air hitting your skin, goosebumps breaking out over your skin.
"Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispers, and he leans down to take one nipple into his mouth.
"Oh," you gasp, arching your back into him.
He sucks the sensitive bud between his lips, swirling his tongue around the peak, teasing you. He takes the other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging and twisting, sending sparks of pleasure through you.
Your head falls back, and you moan his name, your fingers holding tight to his neck, your thighs squeezing his hips.
You can feel the heat of him against you, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your center, and you grind down against him, desperate for friction.
His mouth leaves your breast, and he kisses you, his tongue tangling with yours, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. You drag him closer, your hands running over his back, exploring every inch of his warm, firm skin.
His lips trail across your cheek, and you gasp as he presses open-mouthed kisses down your neck. He pauses to suck a bruise into the sensitive skin where your neck meets your shoulder, his hands massaging your waist.
"What do you want, mesh’la?" he murmurs, his mouth trailing along your collarbone.
"You," you reply, your voice breaking into a moan when he bites down gently on your shoulder, and you can't help but buck your hips.
You can feel him grin against your skin. "You have me."
"Bed," you manage, your hands gripping at his shoulders. "Now."
Kix chuckles, his hands sliding down to cup your ass. He pulls you flush against him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he lifts you off the counter. Your legs tighten around his waist and you bury your face in his neck to muffle your gasp as he walks you down the short hallway toward your bedroom.
Kix kisses you deeply as he lays you on the bed, hovering above you for a moment before he ducks down to press a kiss to your stomach.
His lips trail lower, dipping just above the waistband of your pants. Your breath hitches at the feeling of his mouth on you, the scratch of his stubble against the sensitive skin there. The idea of what he’ll feel like between your thighs has you nodding before he’s even asked the question, his hands hovering on your waist.
Kix’s fingers hook into the waistband, slowly sliding your pants and underwear down your legs. You help him, lifting your hips so he can pull them off. Your panties stick to the slick dampening your center, and Kix lets out a barely concealed moan at the darkened patch there before tearing them away.
You expect him to discard them over your shoulder with your pants, but he shocks you by giving you a bashful smile and tucking them into his back pocket.
"Really?" you ask, trying to stifle your amusement.
"What?" He gives you a look that's almost innocent, if not for the fact that he's hovering above you, half-naked and fully aroused.
“Nothing. I just didn't expect you to want to keep them."
"Do you mind?" he asks, his expression turning serious.
"Not at all," you say, and watch with rapt attention as his expression turns devious.
"Good. I plan to treasure these," he teases, and he presses a kiss to your bare knee. You shudder at the touch, at the implication behind his words.
"Now where were we?" he murmurs, his voice husky, his eyes dark as he lowers himself to his knees on the floor in front of you.
He grabs the back of your ankles and tugs, and you let out a squeak as you're pulled until your ass is nearly hanging off the edge. It’s a precarious position that’s immediately rectified by Kix arranging your legs so they’re thrown over each of his shoulders, his face level with your exposed center.
The feeling of his breath against your cunt is almost too much to bear, your legs wanting to close instinctually, but he quickly stops you with a firm hand on either thigh.
“Hold still, beautiful,” he commands softly, his eyes fixed on your wet, swollen folds.
“Kix—“
Whatever you meant to say evaporates as soon he darts forward, tongue flattening to lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit. You nearly forget your own name when he parts your lips with one hand to give him better access, zeroing in on your clit without any direction from you.
His licks start out soft, then steadily increase in pressure until you're nearly grinding on his tongue. The scratch of his stubble against you feels as good as you imagined. He eats you out like he’s starving, with a passion you knew he possessed but never dared to dream he’d apply to you in this way.
He withdraws for a moment to take a deep breath, his eyes flicking up to yours, pupils blown wide. “More?”
You nod frantically, though you aren’t sure what you're agreeing to. Anything to keep his hands and mouth on you. “Please.”
Kix dives back in, lapping up the juices leaking from you before returning back to your clit. Zaps of pleasure jolt up your spine and turn into a burning heat when you feel something nudge your entrance. His finger slips inside with ease, stroking your walls and the fire building inside of you, your eyelids fluttering shut.
He finds the spongey part deep inside you within seconds, hooking his finger upward to press firmly and drawing a gasp from you. With his target found, he adds another finger and begins to slowly curl them, pushing his hand in and out in a rhythm that has you seeing stars.
His lips close around your clit, suddenly sucking hard, and you gasp.
Your hips jolt off the bed, thighs closing involuntarily around his head, and he groans loudly. Your eyes open abruptly, worrying you've hurt him somehow.
Instead, you find his eyes closed, brow furrowed in pleasure, and the hand he’d been using to hold you open has retreated. From your vantage point, you can only see his arm moving, and you realize with a moan that he’s languidly palming his cock in time with the thrusting of his fingers.
As if he can sense you watching, Kix opens his eyes. Though his mouth doesn’t let up in its assault on your clit, you can see the smile in his eyes as he stares back. His fingers speed up as he pulls back to speak, punching the air from your lungs and sending you falling back against the bed.
“Can you take three?”
“Ye-es.” You hiccup at the feeling of a third thick finger slowly breaching you, stuffing you fuller than you've ever been able to manage on your own. The coil in your stomach tightens with each push and pull into your wet heat. Every thrust of his fingers sends you higher and higher, your entire body writhing with the force of it.
“Look at you," he groans. "So tight and wet. Taking my fingers so well, like you were made for me."
Your hands come up to fist the sheets at your sides, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter with each word, the way he moans between your legs, the way his eyes flutter closed in bliss as he fucks you with his hand. You can feel yourself approaching your peak, your walls clenching and fluttering around his fingers.
"Are you gonna come for me?"
"Yes." You gasp, your thighs starting to shake with the strain.
"Come on," he encourages, taking your clit between his lips and sucking, his tongue flicking rapidly against you. "Let go, beautiful."
Your eyes slam shut, and your orgasm slams into you with a force unlike anything you've felt before. It rips through your body, the heat coiled inside your exploding, your walls clamping down on his fingers as you writhe. You feel yourself nearly come out of your body, tingling pleasure coursing through you in waves.
Just as you're beginning to wonder if it’ll ever stop, it begins to fade, leaving you panting and sweating as your body collapses against the bed.
“Holy shit,” you say breathlessly. Kix chuckles from the floor, and you push yourself up on your elbows to look at him after you regain control of your limbs. He’s staring back at you, a dreamy smile on his face, the entire lower half dampened with your arousal.
“How was that?” he asks.
“I think you know,” you laugh, breathless. “I thought I was about to suffocate you there for a second.”
“Worth it, trust me.” He sighs wistfully, his eyes a little unfocused. “I don't think I've ever seen anything so hot in my life."
"You're such a charmer," you tease, reaching down to run your fingers through his hair.
"Just telling the truth," he smiles, and presses a kiss to your inner thigh.
Kix helps you lower your trembling legs from his shoulders before glancing down at the hand that was just inside you. He lifts it up to his mouth, sucking his fingers and tasting your release with a thoughtful hum before he moves to stand.
“Just as I thought.”
“What?”
“I knew you’d taste incredible.”
He kisses you, tongue pushing its way inside your mouth to tangle with your own. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue, chasing after him when he pulls away to push his pants off completely.
You want to keep kissing him, keep feeling his mouth against yours, but you're distracted by the sight of his cock springing free from his small black briefs as he slides them down his strong thighs.
Your mouth drops open in disbelief.
“You’re kidding.”
Kix’s fingers, slick with his spit and the remnants of your release, circle the head of his cock. It’s half-hard from his concentrated efforts on your cunt, but it quickly springs to life under his attention. Even not fully erect, it’s by far the most impressive cock you've ever seen. Thick, a sizable length, and now curving up toward his stomach, you can’t look away.
Saliva begins to pool on your tongue at the thought of having him in your mouth, but before you can lean forward to act on your desires, he’s pushing you back on the bed.
“If I knew all you clones were packing —“
He cuts you off with a bruising kiss.
“Careful, mesh’la.” The Mando’a comes out in a growl as he crowds you against the bed, slotting himself between your legs. His hand slides up your thigh to your breast, pinching a nipple. “I’m not big on sharing.”
You let out a breathless giggle as his mouth descends to follow the path his hand has taken, sucking your other nipple into his mouth. The feeling of his mouth and teeth on your chest makes you moan, your hips bucking against his.
"Kix, please."
He kisses back up your chest and throat to press his forehead against yours. You can feel the way his fingers tremble against you as he reaches down to line himself up with your entrance, and your hand comes up to cup his cheek.
"Are you nervous?"
"Yes," he admits, eyes closing as he takes a deep breath.
"We don't have to do this," you assure him.
His eyes shoot open. "I want this more than anything."
"Okay," you smile.
He lets out a sigh, his body relaxing above you. "Sorry, it's just... I've wanted this for a long time, and I just don't want to mess it up."
"You won't." Your arms come around to wrap around his neck. "But I'll tell you if I'm not liking something."
He nods, ducking down to kiss you deeply. Your legs come up to wrap around his waist, and he groans into your mouth as the head of his cock rubs against your clit.
"Please," you whine as he begins to rock his hips. His cock glides easily through your slick folds, and his lips drop back to your neck. "Inside me, Kix."
"Maker, you're wet." His cock slips back down to your entrance, and you bite your lip as the head begins to breach you.
"That's what happens when you make a girl cum," you quips, moaning as he slowly inches inside of you. You feel every inch of him, the stretch more than you're used to but still deliciously perfect. "Oh, fuck!"
He stops, pulling back to look at you with concern. "Are you okay? Am I hurting you?"
"No! No, it's just... " you laugh breathlessly, your hand coming up to caress his cheek. "You're huge. Fuck, Kix."
He smirks, leaning down to kiss you as he continues to push inside of you. The stretch is unlike anything you've ever felt, and it's making your head spin. He feels amazing, thick and hot and throbbing inside of you.
"Fuck, you feel good," he grunts. "I wish you could see how good you look taking my cock."
Your cunt clenches around him at his words, and he groans. He buries his face in your neck, pressing kisses along your jaw, his breath coming out in hot puffs against your skin.
When he bottoms out, you both let out a shaky breath.
"Stars," you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders. "Kix, you feel amazing."
"So do you," he grits out. "You take my cock so well, mesh'la. Like you were made for me."
You moan at his words, his hips pulling back to thrust shallowly into you. You can't help the whine that escapes you, your legs tightening around his waist to pull him closer. The slow drag of his cock against your walls is almost too much, pleasure bordering on the line between pain.
"Faster," you pants, your nails scratching down his back. "Harder, Kix. I need it."
"Anything you want," he replies, his hips picking up speed.
He kisses you, tongue plunging into your mouth as he begins to snap his hips against yours. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of him filling you, the slick sounds of your cunt and his thrusts echoing throughout the room.
Kix fucks you like it's his last chance, hard and fast and rough, like he's afraid you’ll disappear at any moment, and you can barely do anything but hold on.
He changes the angle of his hips slightly, and your mouth drops open as a strangled cry is torn from your lips. His cock rubs against your sweet spot with each stroke, and his head drops to your chest as his hips slam against yours.
"Stars, mesh’la, you feel incredible," he grunts, pressing his face into your neck. His teeth sink into the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder, and you let out a strangled gasp.
"Oh, fuck. Don't stop, Kix," you pants, your voice breaking into a sob, your hand tangling in his hair to tug on it. His hips stutter for a moment before he picks up the pace, your entire body jolting with the force of each thrust. He's fucking you so hard, his cock driving into you with enough force that your entire body rocks with the force of it. "Kix, oh kriff."
He withdraws from your neck, his mouth returning to yours. He swallows your moans, hips pumping into your faster as you squeeze around him. The feeling of him stretching you is intoxicating, and you never want it to end. You wonder if it would be too much to ask him to stay inside your forever, his thick cock plugging you up so nothing could slip out. You feel him everywhere, all around you and inside you. It's overwhelming in the best possible way.
"Kix," you whimper, breaking the kiss to bury your face in his neck. Your teeth scrape along his skin, and you revel in the groan that escapes him. His hands tighten on your hips, thumbs pressing against the bones there.
"Mesh’la," he gasps. "Kriff, I'm getting close."
"Me, too."
You can feel the fire burning low in your stomach, your walls fluttering around him. You dig your heels into his ass, encouraging him to go even deeper, and you see stars when he hits the spot inside you that makes your toes curl.
"Right there, Kix!"
He changes angles so he's hitting your g-spot on every thrust, his mouth dropping back to your neck. You can feel the sweat beading on his skin, the way his muscles flex under your hands with every movement. You scratch down his back, hips jerking to meet his, and you know he must be close. His thrusts are becoming more erratic, his breathing heavier.
"Kix, I'm gonna--" you gasp, your hand cupping the back of his neck.
He buries his face in your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses on every inch of skin in his reach. The hand on your hip slides between you, and you nearly scream when he begins to circle your clit with his thumb.
"Cum for me, beautiful," he mutters, biting your earlobe.
Your orgasm comes out of nowhere, your body seizing up as you cums. White-hot pleasure courses through you, your thighs shaking around him. You can vaguely hear him whispering praise in your ear, but you can't focus on anything except the feeling of his cock still pounding into your as you ride out your high.
"So good, mesh'la. I love the way your pussy squeezes my cock. You look so pretty when you cum, you know that?” he babbles with a low groan, hips beginning to stutter. “Fuck, I'm not gonna last."
You manage to regain your bearings after a moment, your body feeling like jelly. Your limbs feel like they weigh a ton, but you're determined. You need to see him lose control, need to see him fall apart because of you. You know he's close, can feel his thrusts becoming more and more uneven.
"Cum for me, Kix," you order. You can't help the smug smirk that overtakes your features as he groans loudly. "I want to see you."
"Mesh'la," he chokes out, hips losing their rhythm as he fucks you.
"Let go, baby." You lean up to nip his jaw, the hand on the back of his neck tangling in his hair. He looks so beautiful above you, eyes screwed shut, a flush coloring his cheeks. His skin is shining with sweat, muscles flexing as he pushes himself further.
"Look at me."
His eyes flutter open, and you nearly cum again. The sight of him, eyes half-lidded and mouth hanging open, is almost enough to tip you over the edge.
"Fuck," he gasps, hips pistoning into your erratically.
"Cum for me," you repeat.
The grip on your hips is almost bruising as he buries himself inside you. His hips jerk once, twice, and then he's gone, moaning loudly as he cums. You can feel the pulsing of his cock inside you, the warm wetness flooding your cunt, and you can't help the whine that escapes you.
"Kriff," he grunts, head dropping down to rest against yours. You stay like that for a moment, both panting, the only sounds in the room the faint hum of the rain outside and your heavy breathing.
You feel boneless, completely and utterly spent. If you were to die right now, you'd die happy. Kix props himself up on his forearms, brushing your sweaty hair from your face with a grin. He presses a soft kiss to your lips, and you smile tiredly.
"Hey," you whisper.
"Hey," he replies. He ducks down to kiss you again, his smile widening. Has he always had dimples? How did you not notice those before? "How are you feeling?"
"Messy,” you laugh. You glance down at the place where your bodies are joined, feeling him twitch inside you.
"Let me take care of that," he says, gently sliding out of you. The sound he makes when he leaves your body is positively sinful, and your thighs clench at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you.
Kix brushes another kiss against your temple before standing from the bed. You watch with half-lidded eyes as he disappears into the refresher, returning a moment later with a damp washcloth. He cleans you up gently, tossing the cloth in the direction of the refresher once he's finished.
"Come here," you murmur, reaching out for him.
He climbs into bed beside you, and you roll onto your side to press yourself against his chest, throwing your leg over his. His arms come around you immediately, holding you close as he peppers kisses on your hair. You snuggle closer, sighing happily as the warmth radiating from him cocoons around you. His hands run over every inch of available skin as if he's committing it to memory.
"I can't believe we waited so long to do that," you mumbled against his chest.
Kix laughs, the vibrations running through his chest and into yours. You're suddenly aware of how bare you both are, how you're pressed together from shoulder to toe. It should be unnerving, but it isn't. You feel safe.
"Me either. We should've been doing that this whole time."
You giggle, your hand running across his side to rest on his ribs. You can feel the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your palm. "Maybe next time you can fuck me on a med table."
He groans, the hand on your waist moving down to squeeze your ass. "That violates about ten different health codes."
"Fine. The supply closet, then."
"Mesh’la —" The words are a choked moan, and you can’t help but laugh.
"You're cute when you're flustered."
"You're a menace."
You lean up to press a kiss to his jaw, smirking. "But you like it.”
"You're right," he chuckles, leaning down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. "I do."
You hum happily, your eyes fluttering closed as his lips move slowly against yours before a rumbling sensation under your hand makes them shoot open.
"Was that your stomach?"
Kix blushes and looks away. "Maybe."
You roll your eyes fondly, pushing away from his chest. He whines, trying to pull your back against him.
“You’re hungry,” you laugh.
"I am not," he protests weakly.
You stand from the bed, grinning when his eyes immediately drop to your body. His gaze is so heated that you can't help but flush, and it only burns brighter when you bend over to pick up your pants, and he lets out a low groan.
"Mesh'la, if you keep doing that, I'll never let you leave this bed," he growls.
You bite your lip, your eyes flickering down to the sheet barely covering his growing erection. The sight is mouthwatering, and your mind fills with a thousand different ideas about what you'd like to do with him. But your stomach growls again, and you sigh, walking toward the refresher.
"Where are you going?" he pouts, propping himself up on his elbows.
"You're not the only one who's hungry." You stop at the door, giving him a mischievous smile. "And if you're a good boy, I'll make it worth the wait."
Kix is quiet for a moment before he speaks. "I can wait."
"Good boy."
His responding groan has you grinning from ear to ear as you disappear behind the door, your laughter echoing off the walls.
#clone medic kix#clone trooper kix#kix x reader#the clone wars#clone x reader#clone smut#roy writes#kix#does pizza exist in the star wars universe? too late now
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A big sigh escaped the Orc as he swept his gaze around his flat. The moon light from behind him streamed in, casting his large, hulking shadow into the hallway.
He expected an excited, sing-songy voice to welcome him home, to tell him that foods on the table and ready to eat.
The Orc flinched at the silence. He shook his head, sighing and shutting the door behind him. Why did he expect it?
It had been like this for 3 weeks.
He was confused, stunned when you told him that you thought things weren’t working. He’d begged you for a second chance, another opportunity to prove that he could do better, be better… but the look on your face, your placid expression made it clear to him:
You were done.
He endlessly searched his mind, desperate to find something that he had done wrong - had he accidentally flirted with someone? Had he said something? Done something, anything?
Turning on the front room lights and opening the freezer, the Orc sighed. Normally, the fridge would have been filled with fresh vegetables, meat and sauces, all of which you would use to cook the most delicious gourmet meals known to man.
Well, they were gourmet to your ex-Orc Boyfriend.
He smiled, sadly, remembering the dishes you made with fondness.
There was nothing better than coming home, to one of your exquisitely prepared meals after a tiring and hard day at work.
Inside the fridge now, was nothing but a microwave meal. Popping the thin plastic film, your voice scolded him for having such a poor choice for a meal.
“At least boil some rice or something!” He heard your voice in his mind.
The microwave whirred, his processed meal turning slowly.
While that was… ‘cooking’, the Orc turned to his front room and turned on the TV. He mindlessly scrolled through the channels, reality TV shows, informational and geographical programs flicked past him.
You liked watching cooking programs, that’s where you got most of your food ideas from.
He groaned as the microwave beeped at him, harsh and unfriendly. Nothing like you.
After plating, he sat in the sofa and settled on a telenovela.
The female protagonist, a gorgeous Elf woman swung her long blonde curls, pointing at the male love interest, “How can you ignore me, Ronaldo?!” She declared, tears streaming down her cheeks, mascara trailing after them. “I work tirelessly for you! Do everything! Why can’t you just show some appreciation for once?! Take me out to dinner or something?”
The Orc froze, watching the scene unfold, the Elf woman wailing as her love interest protested: “What are you talking about?! I do all the heavy lifting! I go out and earn my keep, so you can live easily, why don't you appreciate that?!”
His heart in his throat, your ex seized the remote beside him and fumbled, desperate to turn off the TV. Once the screen had blackened, the Orc sat in silence, microwave meal untouched in his lap.
And that’s when he realised… it was him. You did work hard, you stayed at home at his request and did all the house work. When you made an attempt to cuddle or to go on a date with him, he was always too tired from work to do any of that.
The faces of disappointment and sadness as you had tried to get him to show any kind of love for you… And he’d just dismissed it. Ignored how you felt in favour of himself.
He looked down at his dinner for one, vision blurring.
Big, salty tears ran down his cheeks as he realised what he had lost.
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#monster lover#orc fiction#monster romance#monster x female#orc boyfriend#orc x reader#monster x human#monster x you#orc romance#monster x reader#orc x reader angst#angst#I’m doing angst now#I need to write more variety
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Take What You Need
pairing: cassian x reader
warnings: just swearing and porn with little plot, prolly a few typos
summary: Stress wears hard on a General's body, so you offer up yours in hopes to provide some much need relief
—
He'd been working so hard.
Forgetting to eat some days and once you'd noticed, you made a point to wake up a bit earlier than normal; a whole hour before he'd stir awake to ensure he had a warm meal and a canteen full of water that you'd ordered be refilled at least twice throughout the day. Cassian always grumbled out some complaint while sleuthing his swords between large wings; hands still wiping sleep from his eyes but he always came home with it empty and a little more life in his cheeks.
"Why not just take a little vacation?" You murmur into his shoulder later than night, his fighting leathers a heap on the ground and Cassian's giant body is pliant in your touch, muscles relaxed from a hot bath and head cushioned by your thighs as your fingers rake through inky hair. "Rhysand wouldn't mind."
"I know but I have too much to do—too little time to get it done. I can't get distracted at a time like this; when Velaris and its people need their safety ensured the most."
It's another version of the same thing he'd always said when you'd ever tried to suggest such a thing but you don't fight it and no anger builds because you know how much this means to him; being able to use his skills to protect his family and his home. "I understand your responsibilities completely; I only worry about the toll they take on you." Your point is easily proven, hands grazing over bare skin and while the hard lines and strong muscle is attractive and jaw dropping, the pained groans that pass full lips makes your heart lurch from the soreness that followed. "When do you get to relax?"
"Whenever you bend over my desk and let me have my way with you."
He means it as a joke—you think. A boyish smirk on manly features, eyes closed in content as you continue your exploration, knuckles grazing the membraneous wings behind him and you'll never grow tired of the goosebumps that litter your skin at the moan that pulls from him. "Okay," You whisper, legs moving below him and he goes to complain, eyes peeling open to make some spoiled little comment about how he hadn't yet given you permission to stop your caring touches but the words never leave his brain. Not when you'd peeled off your—his shirt and tossed it somewhere behind you. "Then have your way with me."
Cassian doesn't answer right away, a little stunned by the breasts displayed perfectly in his line of sight, the dangling little belly ring you'd done yourself with a clean needle and entirely too much time alone. "You're serious?"
"Very." It comes out like a hum, a pleased smile on your face and confidence swells now that you've effectively stunned him to silence with so few words. "You work hard," You explain, eyes actually appreciating the bare skin before you. "I see it and I'm proud of you and if all I can do to help you feel a little better at the end of the day is by being your stress relief—then, I'd be happy to oblige."
He takes no longer to ponder it, rising up and taking in your bare chest like it were the first time all over again. "It's been a rough week, sweet girl." For a second, you think he tells you to fill the silence, to ease you into his fingers hooking into the waistband of your night shorts to slide them down your thighs and over the length of your legs; its dangling over one ankle when he moves on to the next, a low groan emitting when he takes in the bare cunt beneath. "So fucking good to me," Cassian praises and it's when a strong soldiers hands curl around your thighs, fingers gripping at your hips when he drags your ass over the arm of the couch. It's a strain on your back, hips jutted in the air and spine stuck in an arch but you push the mild discomfort aside at how much praise he offers for it. “You just always know exactly what I need.”
The position does little protect you from the ravenous assault of Cassian’s mouth that lowers down against your cunt; lips smacking kisses and tongue darting out to explore until your legs were searching for purchase—something to hold onto or maybe to push against to feel more of his mouth or push it off, you can’t tell but the pleasure is addicting.
Weeks and weeks of your fingers that could never quite compare to Cassian’s; digits thick and skilled when they coat themselves in your arousal and shove it back inside. Every filthy moan encourages him, positive reinforcement fueling his ego more than a million compliments on his physical appearance and he doesn’t slow down until you’re dripping between your legs and struggling for breath. “You sure you can handle it?”
“I have many times before unless something here has changed.”
He chuckles at your smart mouth, the snarky response second nature and he probably would’ve let it go if he wasn’t so high on the dominance—the way you were so quick to offer up your body to him and lay at his mercy while he fucked off the stresses of his job. His heart clenches at the huge display of trust, hands gentle after working an orgasm from you; slick fingers grazing over the soft curve under your breasts. You expect him to linger there; to stick to his usual routine and work as many hickeys onto the malleable flesh until there was no space left to mark but it doesn’t happen.
Just one kiss is pressed to the center of your chest, ears a cutely aware of the boxers dropping to the floor and the throbbing cock burning between your thighs when he smiles down at you with a look you can’t place. "Remember something for me, yeah?"
You nod, words escaping you as you try and fail to figure out that glint in hazel eyes darkened by blown pupils. He's slow about it at first; intentional in the way he teases you with the weeping head of his cock and it takes everything in you not to squirm against the bruising grip on your hips. "I love you."
Your brows furrow at the sentiment, ready to return it either way when it becomes clear why Cassian was being so sweet—so kind and eager to give you pleasure before taking his own because something curls in your stomach when you watch the way he braces himself. Certain he can hear the way you swallow thickly, you glance up at him, voice hesitant. “Cass—“
He cuts you off with a gentle shush, almost placating as he watches where the two of you begin to join and the thick stretch of his head is barely inside before he’s talking again. “You said you wanted to help, right? Help baby, be a good girl and take me.”
It’s easy to give him what he wants when you go boneless in his grasp, each excruciatingly perfect inch of his cock fucking into you like you were as insubordinate and stubborn as his recruits. If it weren’t for the unwavering grip on your hips, the sheer weight behind his thrusts alone would’ve been enough to push you clean off the couch.
It would’ve been a mercy—a reprieve from the brutal pace spurred by your words and there’s nothing you can do but take him, moans spilling and eyes squeezing shut as every single nerve ending felt like it was being electrocuted over and over and over again.
The love shows in his words even when he fucks like he hates you, cock unbelievably deep from this position and the sound of your pussy slurping up his girth is obscene. It couldn’t get any better; watching the hard lines fade to relief, nothing but unrestrained pleasure screwed up on golden skin and your eyes flutter shut when a hand slides up to your throat. “Too good to me,” His voice catches and you know he’s close but there’s something comforting about the fingers loosely gripped around your neck. “—don’t deserve you for a second.”
You’re trying to tell him that it’s not true—that he deserves more than you could ever scrounge up but the words don’t come because Cassian is and he’s spilling such sweet words out even though his fingerprints are bruised into the skin of your hips and you’re certain there’s no way you’re going to be doing much else but sleeping anytime soon. It doesn’t matter, not when his seed is so warm inside and his face finally looks calm as he watches it spill out of you. “Cass—“
“I know you’re tired baby,” The hand around your throat shifts into gentle knuckles dragging slow lines against your cheek; a sweet gesture meant to distract while his other hand stroked around a quickly growing cock. “—but I’m not quite finished yet.”
#a court of thorns and roses#acotar x reader#acotar x you#cassian#cassian acotar#18+ age range#cassian x reader#cassian smut#cassian acosf#cassian x you#cassian x reader smut#acowar#acotar#send asks#copyright
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Mr. Dutton (NSFW)
Summary: You're recently single and living in hotels so when you get talking to your long-term friend, Beth Dutton, she invites you to stay at the Dutton ranch where you suddenly become close to the man you crushed on as you grew up, John Dutton.
Word count: 2535
Reader: Female reader
Character(s): John Dutton
Warning(s): NSFW / 🔥🔥🔥 / Smut / Unprotected Sex / Age-Gap (Reader is of legal age) / Best Friends Dad / Save a horse you know the rest / Oral Sex (M & F Receiving) / Dickhead Ex-boyfriend / John is a strong man I just know it /
Support Me: Kofi
Part 2
(AN: This man, well, this series has me in a chokehold at the minute and there's a serious lack of Yellowstone fics so here you go have some daddy Dutton🥵.)
Splitting from your useless excuse of an ex was proving to be the best thing you ever did. Even if you didn't have a place to stay and a boot full of your belongings your happiness was improving already. Your long-term friend, Beth Dutton, had invited you out for dinner and when she heard of your current hotel-staying situation she invited you back to her family ranch to stay.
You declined at first, not wanting to be in the way, but when she asked you for a ride back to the ranch and made you come inside for another drink you conveniently got talking to her father about the situation and when John Dutton said you could stay who were you to refuse?
“Thank you for letting me stay Mr Dutton."
“You can call me John, darlin’. We’ve known each other long enough to keep up the formalities.”
“Told you he wouldn’t mind.” Beth smiled as she looked up from her food. Gator had prepared a meal for the three of you since Jamie was working and Kayce and his family wanted to spend some time to themselves so John let you take his youngest sons seat next to him.
“It should only be for a few weeks. Until I can sort out a place of my own, if there’s anything that needs doing please let me know. I don’t wanna be wandering around doing nothing whilst everyone else is working.”
“We could probably use some help keeping the place tidy but I’ll see if Rip needs any help too.”
“Thanks Beth.”
Later in the day Beth showed you to your room and after John insisted on helping you bring the boxes of your belongings up you got settled for the night. The room that had been given to you was large, definitely the largest room you'd ever stayed in, and as you hung your clothes up in the double-wardrobe you peered out of the window and across the ranch taking in the sights.
It had been a few years or so since you'd had the chance to come back to the Dutton ranch. Between working and dealing with your ex it became almost impossible to have any time to yourself let alone with your friends. Fortunately you remained in touch with Beth and despite you not being able to meet up like you used to you were thankful that she was understanding.
You sighed. You hadn't thought about your ex since walking out of the relationship after you found out he was cheating and you were annoyed that after a few weeks he decided to plague your mind now when you were trying to start fresh. As if on queue your phone pinged with a text from said ex and you felt the tears start to well up in your eyes as you saw the brief begging message he'd said. A gentle knock on the open bedroom door brought your attention away from your phone screen.
"You alright?" Johns soft voice filled the room as he stood cautiously in the doorway.
You sniffled a little bit and wiped the corners of your eyes before nodding. "Yeah I will be." You turn to face him. "Thank you for letting me stay John, it really means a lot to me."
"You don't need to thank me darlin', you're welcome here anytime. I'm headin' to bed but if you need anything then come and wake me alright?" He says and you nod in understanding. "Make sure you get some rest."
John turned and left the doorway, closing the door behind him he left you in peace as you continued to put your clothes away. When you finished you picked up your phone, blocked your ex and climbed under the sheets after turning the light off.
The following morning the Duttons woke before you did and made their way downstairs. Beth made herself a drink and then sat at the dining table immediately digging in to the food that Gator had put out for them. Soon after, her father followed and took his seat at the head of the table with his own drink.
“Is she still asleep?” John asks, referring to you and Beth nods. “I was thinking of getting her set up in the stables, she was always good with grooming the horses so figured that’s a good place to start.”
Beth agreed and soon they fell into silence, silence that was soon interrupted by Beths phone pinging. When she checked it a smile crossed her face and soon she was standing up and excusing herself for the rest of the morning. Shortly after Beth had left you'd woke and quickly got dressed after checking the time. It was still early morning but you didn't want to start sleeping in especially since you offered to help around the ranch.
Exiting the bedroom you made your way through the house and eventually to the dining room where you saw John sat at the table on his own. "I was wondering when you would be making an appearance." He greeted you with a smile. Gator was bringing more plates of food to the table, toast, bacon, eggs etc and you felt like you were in heaven.
"That was probably the best night sleep I've had in a while." You smiled and took the seat that you had sat in the night before. "I hope I didn't get up too late."
John laughed. "Darlin' you're up earlier than I thought you would be anyway so it's fine."
"You got any jobs for me today?"
"Actually yes, i want you to groom the horses if you're up to it, they haven't been bathed in a while and even though the men in the bunkhouse are capable they never get them looking like you did."
You happily agree and think back to all the times you spent with Johns horses, brushing their mains and fur, bathing them and just overall paying as much attention to them as possible. John always watched you from a distance since he had other things to be taking care of but when you stopped coming around he started to notice that the horses looked dirtier and never seemed to be as clean as they used to be.
Finishing off your breakfast you started the day with choosing a horse and hosing them down before washing and drying them. You brushed their fur, main and platted their tail before mucking out their stable and then moving on to the next one. By the end of the week you'd cleaned up a handful of the horses and had been introduced to the new workers like Jimmy and reacquainted with the old ones like Lloyd and Rip who you'd come to miss. You helped out where you could but when Friday night hit you were glad to have been told to rest over the weekend by John.
Your old cowboy boots had rubbed your feet raw as it had been so long since you'd last worn them. When you entered the house you kicked off your boots and carried them upstairs to your room sitting on the edge of the bed you removed your socks and frowned at the redness of your feet. As the sun set you undressed and showered before returning to the bedroom and climbing into bed. Not a minute or so after your head hit the pillow your phone pinged.
Sitting up you were curious as to who could be texting you, that was until you saw the 13 missed calls and around 50 texts from an unknown number. Your stomach dropped, it was your ex and the messages ranged from "I miss you" to "Go fuck yourself" as well as. few others thrown in here and there for good measure. You skimmed the messages quickly when another one came through "I can see that you've read my messages, fucking reply to me." and with that you blocked the number and turned off your phone.
All the work you'd done over the past few days didn't seem to have affected you anymore since you'd gone from being on the verge of falling asleep to wide awake in a matter of minutes. You tossed and turned in bed trying to fall asleep but after 2 hours had passed you gave up.
Leaving the bedroom you stepped into the surprisingly warm hallway and made your way to the staircase. Peering over the bannister you saw John who looked comfortable for once, normally any time you'd seen him he was tense but now, sat in front of the lit fire with a tumbler of Whiskey on the side table and his feet up on the coffee table he looked relaxed. “What’re you doing up?” You ask after glancing at the clock on the wall.
“I could ask you the same thing.” He replies looking up from his book as you descended the staircase.
“Can’t sleep, mind if I grab a book and join you?”
“Help yourself.” He replies and you smile. John watches from his position on the couch as you turn and head towards the bookcases. He watches you skim the leather bound books for a title that piqued your interest. Reaching up for a familiar title and raising up onto your tip-toes makes your oversized t-shirt rise up your thighs and stop just under your ass. John struggles not to choke on his drink as he drags his eyes up your thighs and catches a glimpse of your laced underwear peaking from underneath the baggy t-shirt.
After grabbing a book you quietly made yourself a drink from the bar and took a seat on the couch next to John as he topped up his glass with the opened bottle of Whiskey next to him. “Whatcha reading?” He asks with genuine curiosity. You flashed him the cover of the book and he recognised the title. “Good choice.” He smiles and you smile back.
Sitting down on the couch next to him you made sure to leave some room between the both of you. Your legs were bent at the knee and tucked up next to you and it didn’t take long until you started rubbing at the sore areas of your feet. The action didn’t go unnoticed and soon John broke the silence. “Your feet hurting you?”
“Yeah, been a while since I’ve worn my boots. Think they need breaking in again or I need a new pair.” You laugh.
“Here, let me.” He says extending his hand out to you and you knew better than to argue with him. Lifting your feet you drop them into his lap gently, the fabric of his jeans rubbing against the backs of your legs. Suddenly it took you much longer to finish a page as your mind kept wandering to Johns calloused hand rubbing your feet as he continued to read his book, stopping occasionally to take a sip of his drink.
His lap was warm, his jeans felt nice and rough and as his hand traced the bottom of your foot up to your ankle you felt the growing rigid length of his cock press against the side of your foot. Your eyes were no longer focused on the book and instead you peered over the pages to look at your best friends dad as you gently tilted your foot towards his crotch. Johns breath caught in his throat, his rough hand grabbed your ankle and he looked over to you. "Be careful darlin', I don't want you doing something you'll regret." He spoke before moving your feet off of his lap so he could stand up.
You watched as John grabbed the now empty bottle of Whiskey and passed round the back of the couch, leaving the room and entering the kitchen. Thoughts raced around your head and after deciding on what to do you opted to go with the idea that would hopefully release the pulsing between your legs. Standing from the couch you shimmied your lacy underwear down your hips and let them drop to your feet before picking them up and walking over to the book that John was reading.
You dropped the flimsy fabric on-top of the closed book, grabbed your glass and walked past John to the kitchen as he made his way back to the couch. You poured another drink and barely had time to take a sip when heavy footsteps stopped at the doorway of the kitchen. “You forget something sweetheart?” John says and you smirk. Turning to face him you see your underwear gripped in one of his calloused hands.
“I didn’t forget anything sir.” You reply. He lets out a hoarse laugh and closes the distance between the pair of you. Your back is pressed against the counter and John is pressed up against your front peering down at you with a smirk.
"You're a little tease aren't you."
"Only for you." You reply and he laughs again.
"Beth'll kill you if she finds out, hell I think she'd kill the both of us."
"We best hurry up then whilst we have an empty house."
Lifting you up onto the counter John parts your legs and kisses the inside of your thighs before devouring your cunt. One of your hands found the back of his head and you ran your fingers through his hair as he continued to lap and suck at your clit, his rough hands that were delicately rubbing your feet moments ago now roughy grabbing at your thighs to keep you steady.
Your thighs threatened to trap his face as he made you cum with his tongue and soon you were jumping down off the counter and dragging John back to the couch. Shoving him down you dropped to your knees with a crack and made quick work at unbuttoning his jeans freeing his cock from the confines of his underwear. You licked the tip before drawing it into your mouth and using your spit to soak his shaft.
His hand is resting on the back of your head as it bobbed whilst you sucked his cock. You always assumed that since John was a tall man he would have the cock to match and you were pleasantly surprised to find that it was true. When your jaw started hurting from shoving his girth between your lips you stood and straddled his thighs wasting no time in lowering yourself down on his cock.
John lifted up your t-shirt and took a nipple into his mouth roughly sucking it as you bounced on his lap, his hands moved to grip your hips as your cunt swallowed his thick cock with every rise and fall of your body. Cumming on his cock John wasn't far behind you, his laboured breathing urged you to push through the burning sensation in your thighs to bring him to his high. Pushing you roughly against his thighs John held you in place as he came, pulsing thick ropes of cum deep inside you.
"Looks like you still have it in you old man." You laugh trying to catch your breath.
"I'll show you more of what an old man can do."
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