#than a tool on his workbench

[charmspoint]

The original thing I'm brewing rn is like: Do you wish your romance novel was written by an aromantic asexual who views love as something to strap on a vivisection table? Do you wish your romance novel included themes of identity formation and crisis, of emerging self-governing and the fear and the thrill of it, o being built wrong through none of your own fault and having to adjust that wrongness into a functioning human identity, of the first experience of ever being loved after a long existence of blind worship, of love as a transformative power, as a corruptive power? Do you wish the guy was the sub?

[seat-safety-switch]

When we were kids, we didn't have access to cool power tools. Every summer, when the soapbox derby race was coming, we'd break into my neighbour's garage while he was at work. Then, we'd use his drill press, lathe, table saw, all the fun tools. Over the course of a week, a race car was produced, which is more than the workshop ever made during the rest of the year.

Sure, we could have asked him if we could have borrowed his tools, but no doubt he would want to be there to supervise. And then he'd want to help. We'd never get done while we were busy indulging the suburb-tinged fantasies of someone who didn't take wood shop and chose instead to idly worship at the altar of Television Presents: The Fantasy of Bob Vila in adulthood.

One year, Old Man Garrett got a security system. Probably this was because Ted (fucking Ted) didn't clean up the sawdust that one time like we asked him to. The old man must have seen the footprint, and realized that he did not wear size-seven Nikes. Child thieves, casing his precious table saw! Now, our humble breaking-and-entering had become significantly more difficult than "reach a coat hanger under the door and pull the emergency release."

With the help of some of the high-school kids who were taking electronics class, we managed to defeat the security system. We did so using an ancient Japanese technique known as "distract Old Man Garrett while he's setting it, and then cut the wires to the panel." I think it loses something in translation, but you get the gist of it. That year's car was especially sweet.

In adulthood, I got drunk and bragged to some work buddies about our little scam. They responded in abject horror, because I was still occupying the weird hump in the middle of a normal distribution of "acceptable crimes." It was terrifying to them to see one of their own, one of the suburbanites, speak openly about largely-harmless property crimes. What if we had been hurt, they shrieked. Around the water cooler, I would become a pariah, unless I could make amends.

I did hunt down Old Man Garrett after that, still feeling the sting of rejection. He was still on the property, and he still had a beautiful collection of immaculate cabinet-making tools in the garage. I rang his doorbell and, when he answered, I told him the whole story. He laughed.

"I knew it was you dumb shits from the beginning," he bragged. "Fucking Ted -"

"Fucking Ted," I echoed, unconsciously.

"Fucking Ted left his library book on building race cars behind on the workbench that first year. You didn't let him drive, did you?"

I shook my head. "We ran the car into him if the hockey-stick brakes ever failed."

We had a good laugh about the whole thing that evening, and I returned to work with my soul cleansed. It's just a pity Ted didn't know how bad he actually was at crime, before he tried to knock over that liquor store and all.

[k9wa]

𑣲 RILE HIM UP ! ft BOOTHILL.

⠀ — your least favourite cyborg is brought back to you a mangled mess.

⠀ OR

⠀ — being boothill’s mechanic when you lowkey can’t stand each other.

⚠︎ sweet sweet tension, a little suggestive towards the end, gn reader (no referring pronouns), can they fuck already, this was ib by his lightcone, wc 1.9k

boothill's eyes flickered to life, emitting a faint glow of red as his systems began to reboot.

a pair of familiar red pupils met yours, two crosshairs fading into sight as boothill regained his sight and— to your dismay— consciousness.

as the cyborg regained his motion he attempted a step forward, only to realise he didn’t have the feet or legs to do so. the only thing keeping him powered on were some metal claws screwed into his back and a few loose cables connecting to your terminals.

“sugar plum,” boothill's scruffy voice cut through the silence. “do y'care to explain where my legs might’a run off to?”

you actually cocked an eyebrow. how the hell were you supposed to know? boothill was brought back to you in a mess of scraps and wiring— the damn hunk of metal was lucky you made him as blast proof as possible and he was left salvageable. 

“care to tell me how the hell you got this roughed up?”

you asked in turn, crouching down to look at the detached and ruined internals of boothill's torso where the stand-in wires were connected. you ran a finger carefully along the edge of his shredded metallic stomach.

“guess i didn't make you as smart as i thought. time for a newer model, maybe?”

boothill's eyes flickered down to his missing lower half, then to your hand that was more or less caressing him. it was amazing how much annoyance they could show in all their artificial glory.

“look who’s talkin.” the cowboy grumbled, pointy fangs poking out in an irritated grin. 

“how ‘bout, ‘gee, boothill! i’m real glad y’ain’t get blown to smithereens beyond repair!’” 

“it would've been less work for me if whoever blew you up finished the job.”

you sighed as you stood up, putting a hand lazily on your hip.

“how’d it happen?”

boothill bit back another argument with a gruff chuckle.

“some real cutie-pies i was huntin’ down had a lil’ more firepower than i expected. guess they didn’t appreciate me spoilin’ their party.”

boothill visibly cringed as his insult was substituted with some cutesy nickname mid explanation.

“and can you fix my beautiful synesthesia beacon already? this thing is drivin’ me up the wall.”

the request fell on deaf ears as your fingers typed something on your laptop, likely another string of code.

“you’re more concerned about your censor than how long it’s gonna take me to put your legs back on…” you sighed to yourself, still leaned over your workbench, eyes focused on your screen.

“i'm not touching it right now. you’re lucky i’m even letting you stay sentient after this.”

boothill snorted at the remark, brows furrowing in a steady grimace.

“well, ‘scuse me for wantin’ to speak freely–  i’m a grown man!” his pointy teeth shone as they peeked out again in a grin.

“y’know what? just leave yer lil’ tools and all the pieces there— i’ll get my legs back on myself. don’t need no charity work from the likes’a you.” he laughed. “heck, may even give myself a new pecker while i'm at it!”

the mechanic had half a mind to listen, sit back and watch boothill struggle to reassemble himself just to prove a point and simultaneously bask in his embarrassment when the former realised it wasn’t possible.

(not that he would’ve admitted defeat– you would have begrudgingly stepped in and helped before he inevitably messed up his wiring more.)

you stepped back over to boothill, hands moving to hold his cheeks so you could tilt his face side to side to check for any more damage.

“cool it, cowboy.” your eyes squinted in focus as they looked at boothill's, lightly tugging up on his eyelid to check for scratches or cracks.

“i'll get you back up and running, just lose the attitude already.”

boothill's eyes narrowed as he felt your touch on his face. the temperature difference of warm fingers on his cold, mechanical body stirring an oddity where his gut should have been. though he tried to ignore it, the sensation was there, clear as day against all his artificial nerve endings. 

“real easy for you to say,” he huffed, avoiding your eyes as he was examined like a broken toy. “let’s see how peachy you are when yer all strung up and legless, love muffin.”

that censor really was gonna drive him insane.

“just get it over with.'' boothill muttered in annoyance. “and try not t’fuss anythin’ up.”

it took quite some time, as expected, for you to successfully reattach boothill’s legs and fix his mangled midsection. when you were finally finished, you tugged out any leftover wires that connected boothill to your terminals and pushed back in your wheelie chair to beckon the cowboy forward. you pushed your glasses up to your forehead, some hair getting swept out of your eyes with them.

“feel fine?”

boothill rolled his ankles and bent his knees, giving his legs a good stretch to test their mobility.

“mighty fine,” he responded, satisfied to feel they were weighted and moved the same as before. “though i can’t say i’m lovin’ the breeze up my backside.” 

boothill glanced down at himself, steel body completely bare and lacking any of his signature clothing. 

“got my pants lyin’ around anywhere, sugar plum?”

you pointed to another table in the room, where boothills clothes— (or rather the new ones you had to go and get—) were neatly folded, his hat placed on top of them. 

boothill went to get himself dressed, hoisting up his bell bottomed pants and sliding on his jacket. he stole a glance in your direction every so often, resisting the childish urge to roll his eyes at the mere sight of you.

the artificial man hit a small bump in the road as he went to zip his jacket (could you really call it that with how little it covered?) up—  his fingers weren’t responding as well as they should have been. he could open and close his fist, but lacked the precision to pinch and hold the zipper.

“hey, honeybun,'' boothill called over to you with a furrowed brow. “didn’t i tell you not to go fudgin’ anythin’ up?”

you, in all your overtired glory groaned, turning around in your chair and waving boothill back over.

“what are you talking about?” 

“my cute lil’ fingers ain’t workin’ that’s what i’m talkin’ ‘bout!”

boothill's footsteps were clunky and loud as he stomped his way back over to his mechanic.

you reached for his hand, an uncharacteristic gentleness in your touch as you examined five mechanical fingers.

“make a fist,”

boothill obeyed, curling his fingers into his palm.

“open it,”

he obeyed again, letting them open and relax.

“hold up two fingers,”

boothill tried, but his fingers got stuck halfway into the motion, locking at the joints.

“son of a bitch.” you sighed, turning for one of your tools. “sit back down.”

boothill grumbled and went to hoist himself back onto the workbench.

“least one o’us can say it…” 

“do you want me to fix you or not?”

“i'm sittin’ ain’t i??”

you pulled boothill's shirt off his left shoulder and popped open a tiny panel on the curve of his neck, sliding your glasses back on to the bridge of your nose. with a lean forward you began carefully looking at a few thin wires that filled the space.

boothill tapped his fingers against the tabletop while you worked, that same oddity as before settling in his now repaired gut. he rarely got messed up enough for you and him to spend this much time together, or for you to have to really be in such close proximity.

it’s not uncomfortable, but the feeling is by no means familiar. it’s actually a little embarrassing– a galaxy ranger, a space cyborg and expert hunter, feeling almost flustered at some close contact like some kind of shy little girl.

“something the matter?”

boothill nearly jumped as you spoke up quietly to check on him, voice quiet and so close to his ear he had to refrain from leaning both closer and away.

“nah, everything’s just dandy.” boothill’s voice followed yours– quieter and a little softer as a result of the closeness.

“you’re sure?” you looked up from the small mess of wires, eyes glancing up at your cyborg over the rim of your glasses. “might as well fix anything else that’s bugging you while i’m here.”

boothill would have swallowed if he had the need to lubricate his throat. he shook his head, turning to look somewhere— anywhere else.

yours lingered on him, albeit briefly, observing the clench of his jaw and the way he tried to shift in his seat without being disruptive to your work. he didn’t see the little smirk tug at your lips as you refocused on the task at hand.

boothill’s cybernetic limbs felt almost human in their sensitivity, sending faux shivers up a spine he didn’t even have. the mechanics fingers running down his forearm are doing him no favours as they move to hold his hand again.

“close your fist…open it…two fingers up…”

each command was obeyed, ten gunmetal fingers finally holding up a little peace sign.

“that should be it, come see me if they start acting up again.”

you stood up, tentatively reaching out to fix boothill’s jacket and begin to zip it for him.

boothill didn’t protest the act, but it was…confusing, to say the least.

“reckon i’ll just start seein’ those auto bots again,” he leaned back on his palms as your fingers fixed his collar, straightening it out.  “much as i love our lil’ visits.”

you only hummed, smoothing out a few wrinkles and neatly tucking his scarf into it’s neckline, as he liked. “you could,” you mused, hooking your finger lightly into his collar and giving a gentle tug forward. “they don’t take as good care of you as i do, though.”

this time boothill caught the little smirk on your lips, clear as day and enough to make him question if short circuiting was possible.

you’re doing it on purpose, he knows. the careful touches to his hands and body against the sensors you put there, quiet voice leaving him with a frisson you made it possible for him to have.

boothill returned the smirk, albeit a little wobbly.

“you tryin’a rile me up, sugar plum?” 

he entertained you with a lean forward, two white crosshairs looking right at you while he considered if a hand on your waist was too forward or the perfect cornering move. 

“just like watching you squirm.”

you were gone as quickly as you’d arrived, finger unhooked and going to pick up his hat.

“but say i was,” you didn’t bother with a glance over as you made sure the brim was straight and unharmed. “i hardly have to try.” 

boothill hopped down from the table, following your path and offering a scruffy chuckle when you reached up to place it on his head.

“yeah? and what makes y’say that?” his hand found a place on his hip.

you didn’t respond— not verbally, anyway. a quick flick of your eyes downwards was all he received. 

so he followed, looking down as well, to the very appendage he had insisted you give him over and over again pushing against his trousers. 

his own dream, now his downfall. 

boothill pushed passed you, pushing his hat further down onto his head while he stomped away. the profanities that left his lips filled the air— or rather their replacements. something something i love you blah blah peach cobbler something cutie-pie or meow!

“remind me t’settle for them lovely auto bots next time!”

he opened the door with a firm kick of his boot, stomping out with a scowl. 

as if he wouldn’t be back. you took better care of him, after all.

⠀ 𑣲 MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

[rainrot4me]

Just Relax

Summary: You’re stressed. Jack knows how to fix that.

Characters: Eyeless Jack x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: First time, stress relief, using orgasms as a way to relieve stress, teaching, inexperience, virgin, cunnilingus, blowjob, bad blowjob, grinding, tip fucking, vaginal, kinda creampie, Jack's a gentle giant, service top, claws, mentions of blood, mentions of gunshots, bullet wounds (not smut related), injury

Words: 5.8k

Being the only other medically intelligent resident in the mansion intensified your job.

Slender partnered you with Jack, the tall brooding organ-eating demon that spent most of his time either in his medical lab in the basement or face-deep in someone’s intestines. It was charming, really. 

Your jobs were to patch up the proxies and keep them running, their missions being insanely more dangerous than the average creep and constantly landing them on Jack’s workbench. You were tasked with helping the demon: holding wounds closed, getting his supplies, or even rounding some innocent bystander up for his dinner. You were always on the move, always completing some requests. And it was seriously taking a toll. 

You were becoming restless, your body always aching and your mind never quiet from the constant stress you faced. You tried to hide it, but as the bags under your eyes grew from the lack of good sleep, it became harder to put on a good face. Especially around the demon who ordered your every move. 

So when Jack occasionally got restless and left you in his lab to go hunt, you usually would spend the time tidying up or catching a quick nap. But when a bloodied Tim stumbled down the basement steps and through the door, heaving from exhaustion, you panicked. 

The tall brunette stumbled into your arms, coughing loudly as you tugged him to the medical table and laid him down, his jacket dark with blood and dirt. He had been shot, twice in the gut, it looked like. You grit your teeth, tugging his jacket and shirt off as you carefully watch his face, his eyes already beginning to flutter shut. Shit. Where the hell was Jack?! It wasn’t that you didn’t know what to do, it was just that Jack was more familiar with these things. You were just an assistant. But you had no choice, curse the demon and his greedy tongue. 

You pulled the medical tray towards you, the metal pan littered with different tools you were familiar with. You grabbed a cloth, dousing it with sterile alcohol and wiping Tim’s gut, forcing his chest down as he hissed against the sting. You had to be quick, there was no telling how long the poor guy was hauling himself here and bleeding out quickly. After cleaning his skin, more blood gushed, but you were finally able to tell where the entrance holes were. “Just hold on.” You grit, grabbing the long tweezers from the tray and focusing, pressing your arm against Tim’s chest as you slowly sink the cold prongs into the wound. The large man cried out, fists clenching the soft padding of the table as you prodded for the bullet, pushing deeper until you felt an abnormality lodged deep into his skin. You were way too shaky for this, your unsteady hands likely to tear his wound further as you pinched the small bullet and unlodged it from his gut. You needed Jack, now.

And like a god-sent, you heard loud boots stomping down the wooden stairs, a tall figure emerging through the open door as you dropped the bloody bullet onto the tray. “[Y/N]? What’s all this blood- oh shit.” Jack’s monotone voice muffled behind his mask, his head instantly snapping to you as you turned to him, panicked and hands covered in Tim’s blood. 

The demon was quick, grabbing the tweezers from your hand and pressing over the bleeding man, doing a much better job of retrieving the second bullet as you slid to his side, offering your help as always. He popped the tiny metal onto the tray, quickly grabbing disinfectant and eyeing you as he returned to the bloody scene, trying his best not to apologize right now.

-

Before you knew it Tim was back upstairs asleep in his bed, his torso wrapped in clean bandages and veins full of liquid painkillers. The procedure went by quickly after Jack arrived, making quick work of getting the man cleaned up after his latest mission. You sat at Jack’s desk, face hidden in your hands as you finally caught your breath, fingers still stained with his blood. The demon leaned awkwardly against the edge of the table, mask long discarded on the now clean table now that you were in the privacy of each other. Jack had stopped using his mask around you long ago when he realized you would be together every day, pushing past his instincts and accepting your presence wholeheartedly. He appreciated the help more than you knew. 

“I’m sorry…” He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he watched you, palms rubbing your tired eyes as you looked up, but not at him. “It’s fine.” You wanted to accept his apology, but your angry sleep-deprived brain wouldn’t let you, a snarky response being all that you could offer. Jack could hear your irritation, cringing to himself as crossed his arms, looking down to the floor. “Like, seriously. That was completely me. I sho-” 

“I said it’s fine, Jack.” You cut him off, huffing as you pushed off the desk and began picking up random trash around the lab. You refused to look at him as you tried to occupy yourself, begging your angry tongue not to attack him further. But Jack, being himself, pushed further, begging for your forgiveness. “But it’s not. I mean, how can I make it up to you?” He pushed, circling in front of you and reaching for your shoulders, the demon easily towering over you as you strained your neck to look up at him. “You can’t, okay?” You snarled, pushing off of him and tossing random syringe packets into the trash, slipping away from him. You were fuming, unreasonably, but you couldn’t help it as you breathed quickly, face growing hot. You were becoming overstimulated, your hair pressing too close against your neck, this room suddenly becoming way too cramped, and your head just hurting, begging for you to just lay down. 

Jack crossed his arms, sitting back against the medical table as he watched you stomp around, his knee tapping worriedly. “But-” Just hearing his voice was beginning to make you mad, his need to apologize becoming so whiney in your mind. “Listen, Jack. I don’t fuckin’ need your sorry, okay? What I need is to be left alone. I’m stressed out of my mind, alright?” You snapped, shoulders tense and hands flinging with every word. Jack just watched quietly, his dark sockets staring blankly at your red face. He knew you were stressed, how could he not? But he also knew this was the result of days of suppressing that stress, refusing to acknowledge just how overwhelmed you were until you got to this point, your words moving faster than your mind could stop. He didn’t take it to heart, it was all emotional and he knew that. But what he did do was push further, despite your anger. 

“Then why don’t you rest? Like, take the day off or just take a minute. I don’t know, have a shot or something.” You leaned back against Jack’s desk, rubbing your face as you groaned, your head pounding. “You don’t think I’ve tried? Can’t catch a wink of sleep because my mind won’t just stop. I’ve been on a high drive all week.” You whined, tears pricking your eyes as the demon watched you, brows knitting as you wiped your eyelids. He thought quietly, sockets studying you annoyingly as you wiped your hair from your face, irritation growing when he wouldn’t look away.

“Have you tried masturbating?” For a second, you really couldn’t tell if your ears were working right, convinced you were still in shock as you glared at him. What the fuck kind of question was that? Thinking he was joking, you laughed dryly, rolling your eyes. “Very funny, Jack.” But he wasn’t laughing, his face dead serious as he arched a brow expectantly. That’s when your face grew hot, cheeks growing a darker tint until you forced yourself to look away, avoiding his piercing gaze. You screwed your eyes shut, embarrassed. You hadn’t, but you felt like he had already come to that conclusion as he pushed off of the table, stepping closer to you and making your breath hitch. He tilted his head, arms crossed tightly as he strained the answer out of you.

“No, okay? I don’t have time for that shit. And besides, I wouldn’t even know how.” Such trivial things had never crossed your list of wants when you were working under Slender. You had more important things to worry about like completing missions or saving someone’s life. Touching yourself hadn’t really crossed your mind. 

Jack scoffed, his hands uncurling to rest against his hips. “What? You mean like, you don’t know how to jerk off?” It was embarrassing when the demon said it out loud, your eyes screwing shut and cheeks hot before him. But he only stepped closer, his tall stature suffocating you. You shook your head, refusing to look up. “Why would I need to? I’m not some dog in heat.” 

That one struck harder than you meant for it to. You were all too familiar with Jack’s seasonal heat cycles, his demon instincts overriding his thoughts a couple of times a year and driving him to seclusion for a week or so. Those were the times you hated the most when he wasn’t around, wasn’t there to guide you during a procedure or appreciate your efforts. So when you looked up at him, fearful that he was going to go off on you for your careless insult, you were surprised to see his face so calm. 

“Yeah, you need to jerk off.” He smiled, a little teasing in his voice as you scowled. “Listen, orgasms are good for relieving stress. So, if you’re going to keep working, you either need to learn how, or let me help you.” His words felt like a joke, but his face was so sincere you had to readjust, your stomach tightening with butterflies. He couldn’t be serious, help you? 

But as his gray-blue claws rested on his hips, head tilted to stare at you below him, you couldn’t help but squirm. He was looming closer, his jagged smile teasing but earnest as your face became hot. This was embarrassing, letting practically your boss coerce you into letting him get you off. You wanted to say no, to fight him off and persevere by yourself. But when the flutters in your stomach turned to throbbing between your thighs, you groaned, giving up. 

“Fine. But… I don’t know what I’m doing. Like, I’ve never done anything like this before.” You mumbled, pushing off the wall and standing inches from him, straining your neck to look at his toothy grin. “It’s okay, pet. I’ll be gentle.” 

Pressing his claw behind your back, he guided you to the medical table, pushing you to the end. You panicked slightly when he scooped under your armpits and picked you up easily, setting you on the edge so you were level with his chest. You wanted to stop, the sudden closeness making you overwhelmed, but when his claws rested on your hips, you tensed. “Relax.” He cooed, leaning in to press a chaste kiss against your cheek. You were speechless.

Your friendship with Jack was close, and your mutual understanding of how difficult both of your lives were plus the forced proximity made it easier to become quick friends. But as his warm lips pressed down your jaw to your neck so comfortably, you questioned everything you thought you knew about the two of you. He was eager, but soft, nipping against your skin as you tilted your neck, gasping softly as goosebumps ran over you. He was nudged between your legs, his short hair tickling your ear as his claws gripped you tight, holding your hips down. You couldn’t help but rest your hands on his shoulders, pushing back slightly as he moved to the other side of your neck, little red spots appearing everywhere he nipped with his fangs. 

“Jack…” He smiled, letting off your neck and pecking your cheek again, leaning back to look at you. Your face was hot, cheeks dark and flustered, but he thought you looked cute. You, however, had your thoughts running a mile a minute, confused but oh so excited as his claws slipped under the hem of your shirt. Jack could smell your arousal and it made him hungry, so rarely, for something other than guts. 

“Shh, lean back.” He hummed, slipping your shirt up and off your head and making you whine. Placing your hands behind you, you leaned back, stunned when he slipped his nails into your shorts and tugged them down your thighs, purring at the sight of your panties. You couldn’t believe he was actually serious, slipping the fabric off your ankles and tossing them to the ground, hands quick to reach your hips again. You placed your hands on his chest, holding him back from attacking your neck again. “You don't have to do this. I’ll be fine.” You grit, eyes nervously flickering between his face and his crotch pressed so closely between your legs. He just smiled, rubbing your waist. “This is for you. If you’re going to keep working, I need you in good condition. Just relax, pet.” He cooed, pushing back against your chest so you lay on the padded table, feet dangling. You were practically vibrating, unsure of exactly how to lay or move so you just gripped the leather awkwardly, watching the demon run his claws over your thighs.

“I need you to talk to me. Don’t let me overwhelm you.” He said sternly, hooking under your panties and tugging them down, your legs instinctively clutching together. “Too late.” You whined, pushing your hands down to cover yourself as you breathed heavily. Jack only chuckled, gripping your wrists gently and pulling them to your sides as he kneeled. You watched him nervously, his face now even with your closed thighs as he pushed your knees apart, checking your expressions. The demon knew you needed this, knew you were excited. He just needed to show you to let go. 

Spreading your legs despite your protests, Jack scooped his arms under your thighs, tugging you closer to him until he was inches from your pretty cunt. He breathed deep, sighing at the sweet scent of your excitement that coaxed him closer. His dark sockets never moved from your panicked face, sitting up slightly as you watched his lips smile, your eyes wide. This was insane. But before another desperate attempt to get him to rethink this left your lips, one of Jack’s dark, long tongues licked a thick stripe between your folds. Your back hits the leather immediately, a shaken gasp slipping through as you tense your thighs closer. Jack’s strong arms held them apart just fine, chuckling to himself as he watched your pupils blow wide. His tongue was so warm and slick, his thick saliva running through your lips and making you shudder. “Jack-”

He was already back again, long tongue running flat up your cunt and flicking on your clit. Your gasp was ragged, fingernails digging into the padding underneath as you craned your neck to see the demon. Jack was staring at you, the corners of his open mouth twitched up to a smile as he flicked the tip of his tongue against your already twitching clit. The feeling was so unfamiliar, so odd but so heavenly. He seemed so skilled, so eager to tug the little sounds out of you as he dove deeper, your bottom lip slipping into your teeth. 

“You alright, pet?” He mumbled, tongue quick to lick a thick stripe between your folds again, pressing a soft kiss against your soaked lips and giving you a moment to breathe. His claws were kneading the softness of your thighs, his thumb rubbing against your burning skin. Were you alright? Your breathing was heavy, quick and sharp as you stared at him, cheeks hot and flushed. You were nervous, your body unsure of what it was even feeling, but you knew you needed more. More of whatever his delicious tongue was offering. 

So, you nodded, leaning back but keeping your head up, watching nervously as he kissed your inner thighs softly. He smiled again, kissing his way back down to your folds and sliding his tongue out again, spreading the lips around his warm tongue. You groaned, biting your lip as you tried to contain the noises that dared to get louder, unaware that you could even make sure vulgar sounds. Jack was back to flicking against your clit again, eyelids heavy as he relished in the way you fought yourself. You were so desperate to contain what he knew you needed to let out, so he slid deeper, his long tongue slipping against your tight entrance. 

You panicked slightly, stomach clenching when you felt him press against your hole. He didn’t move, eyes trained as you gripped the leather, your face hot and heavy. Your thighs threatened to close, Jack’s claws digging slightly to keep them apart but not pulling farther. Your clit was throbbing, aching from the loss of the demon’s tongue but alive with the new sensation. He blinked at you, reading every expression as he dared further, the tip of his thick tongue slipping inside of your cunt. At the sensation, you didn’t expect your hips to jerk, legs tensing as he pressed inside, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Jack held you close, your tight entrance accepting the warm intrusion as you clenched and throbbed. It was so unfamiliar, but so warm, so filling. 

The further his tongue pressed in the faster your hands slid down to run through his brown hair. You gripped tight, tugging lightly as his lips pressed flush against your folds, his eyelids fluttering shut as he soaked in your warmth. You tasted heavenly, your arousal thick around his tongue as he breathed deep, letting you adjust. His tongue contoured easily through your cunt, rubbing gently against your gummy walls until your hips were squirming, begging for movement. You couldn’t even explain your movements, your body taking control and guiding itself against him. But when Jack’s thick tongue eventually curled against your warmth, lapping at your ecstasy, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. 

“Jack!” It came out ragged, like you were gasping for air that was being stolen with every curl. You tugged against the demon’s hair, his groans vibrating against your cunt and making you whine louder. It was too much. The unfamiliar stretch, the warmth, and even his noises were making you lose yourself. “Ahn- Oh my… Oh my God-” You moaned loudly, your resistance thinning with every pull of his long tongue. Your body twitched against him, your hips stuttering and grinding uncontrollably. His thumb still brushed against your thigh, that one constant keeping you aware the deeper he probed his tongue. Your back arched off the table, unsure if you were trying to pull away from him or angle him deeper, but he moved with you. 

The wet schlick of his tongue tugging in and out of your tight cunt made you groan, eyes screwed shut. You were so overwhelmed, but Jack was quick to read you, quick to adjust his speed the louder you got and bring you back down to a comfortable pace. Your lightheadedness appreciated that, your cunt slick and gummy as your arousal built, his lips becoming soaked. But Jack was in heaven. You tasted so good, so unexplainably good that he couldn’t dare remove his tongue. Your arousal was so sweet, but so sour in his mouth, his groans vibrating against your cunt. But it was pooling now, building heavily. He knew you were close, so he curled harder. 

“Jack, I- Ah! I think I’m gonna- gonna cum…” You mewled, his grinding down against his mouth as you tugged his hair closer, pressing his head deeper between your thighs. You were so sweaty, so hot and overwhelmed, but you couldn’t stop. There was a thick knot in your abdomen, your arousal peaking louder. Jack grumbled, nodding his head lazily as his eyelids tightened, focused on reaching deeper and tasting more of you until your body couldn’t resist anymore.

You came hard. It was such an unfamiliar sensation, your entire body wracking and tensing itself, a sharp moan crying from your lips. You leaned forward, Jack quick to adjust and pull your hips up so he could drink up every inch of you that spilt onto his tongue nestled so deeply inside of you. You were crying out, your fingers gripping his hair so tightly you were afraid you’d rip it from his scalp, but Jack could only moan. “Fuck- Fuck!” Your thighs were shaking, the demon’s large claws gripping tighter so he could relish in the feeling of his tongue being squeezed by your throbbing cunt as you rode out your orgasm. Your breathing was loud, your cheeks hot as you panted and strained against the tongue still nestled inside. You waited for him to slip out, but he never did, his tongue still prodding against your soaked walls. 

The demon’s eyelids eventually opened, his cheeks dark as he held you close, his lips swollen against your folds. You were so stunning, every inch of your burning skin glowing under your ecstasy as he slipped another tongue out of his mouth. It slid against your folds, just as thick and long as the first one but finding a new direction as you whined loudly. He wasn’t done with you yet, he couldn’t be, not when your body called to him so desperately. So his second tongue flicked against your clit the same way he did before, pitching the tiny cries and whines out of you he loved to hear. You were quick to react, your body still sensitive but desperate to chase that high again as you jerked against his tongue, hips stuttering even harder. Jack didn’t go too fast, pressing just hard enough and just quick enough to make your arousal build up, but watching you closely to make sure he didn’t press your sensitive body too far. He was careful, diligent with his every flick and curl. You were falling apart all over again.

“Jack, I’m- I can’t again-” You whined, legs heavy on his arms as he groaned, hugging them close to his head. The demon dug his knees into the ground, his cock pressing hard against his jeans but he ignored it, focused only on you and making you spill on his tongue again. “Yesh, yu can…” He lulled against your cunt, eyelids fluttering with every slick of his tongues. You wanted to resist, wanted to fight back against him, but he had pulled every ounce of your fight out. Jack was pushing you into some headspace you had never experienced before, your mind running on fumes and ecstasy. So you just let go. 

It was no time before you were cumming again, your orgasm much quicker than the last. Jack didn’t hold your thighs apart this time, he slid his claws up your waist, letting your plush legs wrap around his head and squeeze tightly as he groaned. The demon was slowly cracking under you, his mind running rampant as he drank down more of your sweet arousal, pushing off of his knees and to his feet until your hips were completely off the table. Your shoulder blades pressed back against the padding, your loud moans echoing in his ears and making him grin. Your cunt was wrecked, sopping wet and swollen as his tongues finally slid back, tugging out of your stretched cunt and back into his mouth. You watched through heavy lids, sweat sticking to your forehead and making you feel all hot and exhausted.

But Jack was lost in your body, eyelids heavy over his sockets as he leaned over you, pressing wet kisses against your stomach and back up to your chest. You were heaving, goosebumps rushing along your warm skin as the demon reached under your back and unclipped your bra, sliding it off of your shoulders. “So pretty…” He mumbled, kissing along the skin around your nipples until you were hissing. He peered up at your red face, grinning as he slid his arms around your waist and tugged you up to his chest, pressing you close to him. “Did so good, huh? Don’t you feel better?” He cooed, rubbing your back with his nails gently, leaving goosebumps against your skin. 

You did feel better. In fact, you didn’t feel anything but good. Your mind was blank, only the cool leather under your soaked cunt making you twitch, pleasure still coursing through your muscles. Jack was nestled between your legs, chin tucked over your head as he smiled, breathing in how amazing you smelt under him. But this close, you could feel his boner pressed tightly against your thigh, the large bulge making your eyes widen. The demon had done so much for you, it was only right you do something in return. 

You slid your hand down between you, cupping his bulge and rubbing gently until Jack was groaning. You tried to unbutton his jeans, but he was quick to lean back, gripping your wrists. “There’s no need for that. You need to rest.” He grinned, pressing your hands back to your sides gently. You pouted, straining against his arms to reach back again. “You helped me. Now let me help you… Even if it won’t be very good, I can still try.” You peered up at him, eyes wide and pleading as you felt some sense of need wash over you. Jack watched you carefully, contemplating with himself before sighing and rubbing his neck. “Okay. But do not push yourself.” He warned, letting go of your wrists and helping you slide off the table. 

The demon grunted when your hands found his bulge again, your heart pounding in your chest as you unbuttoned his jeans nervously. You had no fucking clue what you were doing, but you pushed his jeans back anyways, his boxers doing little to hide his girth. Jack’s claws rubbed your shoulder gently as you tugged his boxers down, gasping when his length bobbed out. He was… huge. You had never really seen a dick before, but you knew Jack was above average. The demon towered above you anyway, so it only made sense that his length would carry through. But even still, it was hard to focus as you watched the girth twitch in the air. Jack’s claw gripped your shoulder tighter now, watching you carefully.

Taking a deep breath, you kneeled, the demon taken back but quick to adjust. Your wide eyes flicked nervously between his face and the cock in front of you, hands nervously gripping his thighs as you pressed closer. Jack was nervous himself, studying your every move. Licking your lips, you pressed a kiss against the tip, shocked by how warm the flesh was as you lifted your hand to grip the base. Jack sighed, fisting his hands at his sides. You licked your lips again, the salty taste making you press further. You flattened your tongue, licking the head and slowly pumping the length in your hand, unsure if you were even doing this right. But when the demon groaned, pressing his hips closer, your stomach fluttered. 

There was no way you were fitting that in your mouth. So instead you tugged his cock to the side, pressing your lips against the side and sucking gently, jerking your hand slowly. You mouthed against the base, slipping licks up the length until Jack’s claws were resting against your head, rubbing gently and gritting his fangs. It wasn’t good and you knew that, but Jack didn’t care, all he knew was that you were trying and that was all that mattered to him. “Yeah, doing so good pet… Keep moving your hand just like that…” The demon cooed, running his thumb against your cheek. Your stomach fluttered wildly, your mouth sliding to the tip and sucking at his slit. You could taste the bitterness as you run your tongue against the head, Jack's arousal pushing through his gritted teeth. “Fuck…”

You dared, pushing your jaw open and flattening your tongue as you took the tip inside. You tried to press further, but your throat constricting as you gagged pushing you back, tears pricking your eyes. “Ah, careful-” Jack hissed, pressing his hands against your cheeks and pushing you back, but you resisted. You took the head in your mouth again, tongue swirling as your screwed your eyes shut, pumping your hand along the rest of the length. The demon groaned, hands still pressing against your cheeks gently as he begged you to take it slow. His skin was hot, cock twitching in your mouth every time you sucked. “Easy, pet… Yeah, just like that…” He groaned, brushing the hair off of your forehead and admiring your flushed face. You tried to press further, but you would gag and force yourself back, head bobbing as far as you could go before slobber pooled on your lips. You pumped his length quickly, making up for the rest of the length you couldn’t get. Jack was vibrating under your mouth, claws gripping desperately in your hair and brushing the tears from your eyes. “Shit, [Y/N]...” Your jaw was becoming sore, but you pushed, begging your throat to take him.

Until Jack gripped your chin, tugging it down and pulling you off of his tip. You whined, pushing back against his hands but he was already pushing you to the floor, back pressed down against the cold concrete of the basement. Jack kneeled between your legs, spreading them wide as he tugged off his shirt, tossing it to the side. “You did so good, pet… So good… Let me…” He hissed, pumping his cock in his claws and pushing your knees apart. Your eyes widened, heart pounding underneath his hungry gaze. “Jack- I don’t know if I-” But he was already rubbing your thigh gently, pulling your hips to meet his. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He cooed, breathing heavily above you.

Jack pressed his cock down, angling your hips up against his thighs so your cunt laid flat in front of him, your hands gripping onto his knees. Your heart was pounding, eyes flicking nervously as you watched Jack press his cock down, sliding his wet length through your soaked folds and groaning loudly. His tip nudged against your clit, your hips jerking as you gasped, digging your nails into his jeans. “Feels good, yeah?” He purred, slowly grinding his cock down against your cunt, pressing his thumb against the length to keep himself between your folds. You were whining, pressing your hips up to grind against his length as he ground down into you. His tip nudged against your clit with every thrust, the nub twitching against the contact and making your abdomen tighten. “Just like that, Jack…” You whined, his left hand clamping around your hip and pulling you close to him, rubbing the skin gently. 

The demon didn’t thrust fast, more concerned with pushing those beautiful moans from your lips rather than speeding you through an orgasm. He thought the buildup was better anyway. “I can feel your cunt clenching underneath me…” He mewled, pushing his head down with his thumb to grind against your clit, making you hiss. Jack could smell you even heavier now. Two orgasms deep you smelled even more delicious, your heart thudding in his ears as you stared at him through heavy, tired eyes.

That was all it took for him. Jack pressed forward, hands gripping to your waist and leaning over you, pressing his lips against yours. Future consequences be fucked, all he cared about was how amazing you looked and felt gripping onto his shoulders as he ground down into you. You were crying out, hips thrusting up to meet his cock, your folds sliding around his girth and clit throbbing so perfectly. “I want you to cum against me, pet… Let me feel you fall apart under me…” Jack smiled, pressing his lips against your cheek and licking the sweat off your face. You moaned deeply, nails digging into his shoulders as you arched your hips up, angling just right.

Jack moaned out, claws sharp against your skin as the tip of his cock slipped into your entrance, the tight hole stretching around him snugly. “Do it- Do it inside, then…” You gasped, pushing past the sting of your cunt stretching around his head and grinding your hips up, your orgasm nipping at your abdomen. Jack hissed, his hips thrusting down shallowly and popping his tip in and out, stretching you just right. “So perfect… Cum on my cock then, pet… I’ve got you…” He grinned, sweat dripping off his nose as he nestled into the crook of your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist as he fucked you open. 

The tip of his cock pushing just right against the entrance of your walls made you cry out, cunt clenching down tightly around his head before you were cumming around him. Jack growled, breathing deeply as he stalled his hips, his cock twitching against the sudden tightness, pushing him over. His warm seed spilt into your cunt, his cock pulsing as he leaned back and jerked himself off quickly, keeping the tip inside of you as he gripped your waist tight. “Such a good pet… Took me so well, yeah? Taking all my cum like a good girl…” He smiled, giving his hips one last jerk as pushing his tip deep into your entrance for good measure before pulling out. You huffed, cunt throbbing and pulsing as he pulled out, the demon’s warm seed quick to spill out of your entrance and down your cunt, seeping onto your skin. Jack couldn’t help but growl, pressing kisses along your hot skin as you caught your breath, clinging to the large demon. 

When you eventually settled down, eyes heavy and head light, Jack scooped you up, leaning your head against his shoulder. He carried you through the mansion quickly, lucking no prying eyes around to see him carry you to his room and shut the door quickly. He cleaned you up, careful to be gentle against your sensitive folds as he ran a warm rag against you, your tired body clinging to him. “Just relax…” Jack smiled, pulling his sheets back and laying you down, quick to slip beside you and press his warm body against your side, scooping you against him. Your head was so light, your body so heavy and tired against him that you couldn’t resist. You were quick asleep, light snores making Jack chuckle as he breathed your scent deep, pressing his nose against your head and letting his own eyes shut.

Needless to say, you had never slept so well.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[z0mibite]

short little tommy oneshot, small warning of s/a, not graphicly depicted by there's two mentions. typical tcm warnings, death, blood, murder, ect. soft tommy, probably ooc.

You should be disgusted.

You should feel terrified.

And you did, to be fair. But not nearly as much as you should.

Not when that giant had brutalized those bikers who attempted to assault you, and not when he had treated you so gently. Maybe it was the fact that you didn't put up a fight, that instead of struggling to escape him, you reached up for him as a frightened child would. You had wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him tightly, rather than beating against him.

You were brought to the same dark, damp, moldy room as the bikers, but he didn't shove a meat hook through your shoulder, he sat you down on an unorganized workbench, sharp tools scattered around on top of it. In front of you was some type of chopping block. The wood was stained with a brownish color in a pooling shape, the sides dripping. Some of it was more red and fresher, and the smell of copper hung stagnant in your senses. It was so heavy you could nearly taste it, and the air being so humid and thick didn't help.

The bikers, they begged you.

They looked directly at you and cried for you to help them as the monster of a man poured gasoline into his chainsaw, the smell of diesel overpowering the smell of copper for the time being. The two men and one woman who had cornered you at that shop, tearing at your clothes until the ‘Sheriff’ stepped in. You simply stared, watched as the man revved the chainsaw and began dismembering them one by one.

By the time he'd finished, he was covered in blood, and he wasn't the only one. You couldn't see his face well, but you heard his breath hitch slightly as he saw how much of a mess he had made on you. He walked to the sink, grabbed a rag you doubted was clean before wetting it, and began wiping the crimson off you. The only sounds you could hear was his breathing, and the drips you could only decipher due to the difference in how heavy they sounded.

Your eyes met his as he gently rubbed the blood off your cheek, his hands holding your jaw still despite you making no attempt to move. He paused his movements to wipe his thumbs under your eyes, the tears that threatened to spill finally falling as he pushed them out. He tilted his head curiously before moving one hand to the back of your head, the other holding your back as he pulled you into his chest. The hug was inexperienced and awkward, but comforting nonetheless. His body heat enveloped you, and somehow, even after watching every moment of his brutal acts, your muscles relaxed, and the tension in your body slowly left with a long exhale.

[eyelessfaces]

just in case

poe dameron x reader

summary: while fiddling with bb–8's memory, you stumble onto an audio message– poe's prerecorded goodbyes.

based on @ivystoryweaver's headcanon on this post! thank you for allowing me to write something about it!

warnings: angst, mentions of death and war

tags: gn!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, kissing, poe being an absolute sap

word count: 2.6k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

He can’t help the fond smile growing over his face at the sight of you, deeply focused on the repair project in front of you before his knuckles hit against the doorframe a couple times, catching your attention. 

Your gaze meets Poe’s as he steps into your workshop, your expression of concentration quickly giving way to an easy smile when you see him, closely followed by BB–8. 

Poe greets you with a kiss, his hand lingering at your side when he pulls away. 

“What’s bringing you here, handsome?” you ask, shifting to put away the tool you still have in hand. “Hey Beebs,” you smile as you glance down at the droid that greets you back. 

Poe gazes down at his droid, his look shifting back at you. “Could you take a look at him whenever you got the time?” he asks, a small, defeated sigh escaping his mouth. 

“What’s up?” you question, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow at him. It hadn’t been that long since you last checked up on the droid.

“I think there’s something up with his memory, he’s been acting a little forgetful lately” Poe explains; you can see the concern in his eyes, can hear the worry in his voice.

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do.” Poe nods, pinching his lips into a quiet smile as he looks down at the droid. “Hey, you don’t have to worry'' you reassure him, resting a hand over his arm. “It’s nothing too serious usually. Nothing I can’t fix.” He nods again, knowing he can trust you with this, knowing you're as good at this as he is at flying. 

“I’ll take care of him as soon as I’m done with that” you point back to the mess of scavenged parts resting over your workbench.

“Thank you sweetheart,” he says, cupping the back of your head and leaning in to leave a quick kiss on your forehead. “I’d stay with you and tell you about my day, but I have my last meeting of the day in about less than five minutes.” he shrugs, starting to walk backwards to exit the room.

“Sure, don’t worry.” you smile. “Come over when you’re done” 

As promised, the minute you’re done repairing the project you were working on, you lower your workbench to BB-8’s level, letting him roll onto the surface before you adjust it to your level so you can examine him. 

“Hey buddy. memory issues huh?” you coo, grabbing your tools, gathering everything you need to check up on him. He responds with upset beeps, his upper part sagging in defeat. 

“That's okay. Happens to the best of us,” you reassure him, setting to work on diagnosing the problem. “So since it seems to be a memory issue, I’m gonna have to look through your data” you explain, opening his access panels. 

It doesn’t take long for you to identify the issue: a few corrupted memory files. It’s a relief to see it's nothing severe, just a bit of corrupted data that needs to be cleaned and restructured. “Hah, found the problem,” you say, beginning the delicate process of correcting the corrupted files. “Looks like some of your memory files got a bit jumbled. Should be fine once we get that sorted out, there shouldn’t be any problem.” you explain. “You know, Poe always gets so worried about you.” you say, trying to keep the droid calm as your fingers work through the wires and circuits. BB–8 emits a series of grateful beeps, and you smile, focusing back on the task at hand. 

As you work on fixing him, BB–8 chirps curiously, his dome turning to watch you. You explain each step in simple terms, trying to distract him and make it the least stressful possible for him. “I’m working through your memory module. Some of these files are corrupted, so I’m cleaning them up and re-organizing everything. Just like tidying up a messy room.”

BB-8 responds with a relieved series of beeps, and you chuckle. “Yeah, I know it’s not fun for you to have me mess with your memory stuff, but I’ll have you be back to your old self in no time.” 

As you carefully rework BB–8’s memory files, you fumble slightly with a delicate wire, causing a brief short circuit – the droid jerks and beeps erratically before suddenly playing a vocal message. You reach to stop it, assuming it’s a manufactured error message you’ve triggered, but you freeze when you recognize Poe’s voice. “Hey baby,” Poe’s voice crackles through BB–8’s speakers, startling you. You frown, confused, ready to stop the audio message. “If you’re hearing this, it’s probably because something happened and I’m not around anymore.” Your heart properly skips a beat. “I’m sorry I’m leaving you like this,” he sighs softly. “Damn it’s weird talking like this when I’m still here,” he chuckles. You step back, driven by morbid curiosity, firmly intending to listen to the rest of it. 

“But you know, with everything that’s been happening lately and that’s gonna happen, you never know what’s next.” 

He sounds tired. You bite down onto your lip, a soft frown forming over your face and your gaze lost as the recording continues. “I could die in two weeks or in twenty years from the moment I’m recording this, so it’s pretty strange. I just… I love you so much. I wanted you to hear it from me one last time.” 

Your lips curl into a weak smile, tears welling up in your eyes. It’s stupid. He’s still here. It’s just a recording in case he dies.

But somehow, you can’t help it. Not with the prospect that you could listen to it again one day, in the context it was intended to be listened to.

“You’ve always been supportive of my bullshit, no matter what, and you were always there for me no matter how stupid I got, so it’s only fair I thank you one last time. I really hope we got to enjoy our time together” 

You pause the audio message, running your hand over your face, sighing deeply. You want to stop there and not listen to the entirety of it, on one hand because you aren't even supposed to hear it or know of its existence in the first place, and most of all because you’re not sure you can handle it – but your curiosity gets the best of you, and you let it go on.

“It’s stupid that I want to cry, because I’m still here” he chuckles. “You know, I’m recording this because I couldn’t sleep.” he declares. You can hear the soft strain in his voice, you can imagine him and his tired eyes, his hair slightly mussed from tossing and turning like he always does when he’s restless.

He sighs deeply before he speaks again. “I uh… Today’s mission went awful. I could have died and I didn’t even tell you” his voice drops with the weight of his words, he pauses for a second, and the knot inside your throat tightens.  

“You’re sleeping in the next room. You know, you looked so peaceful when I got out of bed that I didn't want to bother you by kissing your forehead, but I did it anyway because I remembered I might not be able to do it forever”

You can’t help it, it’s over for you. Tears roll down your cheeks on their own, the back of your hand suppressing your sniffles and the soft laugh you huff out at his way of always saying things that will get you.

BB-8’s upper part shifts, and he emits a soft, sympathetic whirr, trying to console you.

“I’ve left this message with BB-8 because I know he’s always with you if he’s not with me. Take care of him for me, will you? And take care of yourself. You’re stronger than you know, and you’ll get through this. I love you. So much. More than you know. Which is why I’m gonna cut the recording and get back to bed to hold you tight while I can” 

Your heart tightens inside your chest. You slowly shake your head, tears forced out of you when your eyes fall shut.

“Alright, okay, bye sweetheart. I love you.” 

The recording cuts, ending with a click, leaving you in a stunned silence. BB turns to you, beeping sadly, and you give him a weak smile before wiping the tears over your cheeks with the tips of your fingers. 

You huff out a heavy breath, one that you didn’t even realize was smothering your chest, and force yourself to finish taking care of BB–8 despite everything. 

You’re still sobbing when Poe comes in again. 

He finds you, full on tearing up, not even hiding it – which he finds strange, because you usually turn around and pretend to look for something to quickly dry your tears, and proceed to poorly try to deny you’ve been crying just to avoid worrying him. 

And the context he’s facing quickly leads him to assume something is wrong with BB-8, something you couldn’t manage to fix and now blame yourself for – BB–8 is quick to deny with appalled beeps, so Poe really doesn’t have any idea what he’s dealing with. 

When you pull him near and hug him tight, gripping his hair, longing to be as close to him as possible, he’s still as confused, but he’s swift to take action and hold you even tighter.

His embrace is warm, comforting, his touch delicate as his hand appeasingly rubs over your shoulder, and you progressively manage to calm down and quiet your sobs. “What’s going on babe” he quietly asks, trying to not pounce on you. His fingers carefully lift your chin up, taking care of clearing the tears from your face, his eyes searching yours intensely as he waits for your answer.

You sigh softly, your breath still ragged from sobbing. “I was working on Beebs and I found your…” you pause, realizing you’re not even sure what to call it. You're not even sure you want to say it out loud, to say it's a goodbye message. “I found your recording– I didn't mean to, it just–”

“Oh,” his face drops in saddened surprise, immediately understanding what you’re talking about. “Oh baby” he sighs, shaking his head as he pulls you back into his arms. You weren't supposed to know about this, even less hear it fully, not until he died, that is. “I didn’t want to scare or worry you. I’m sorry you had to hear that– it was just… a precaution.” he murmurs as you cling to him, the remnants of your tears dampening his shirt.

“I know,” you whisper, your voice weak and muffled against his chest. “I just– It was hard to hear. I don’t want to think about losing you”

“I don’t want to think about leaving you either,” he says softly, pulling back just enough to look at your face again. His thumb brushes away the last of your tears when you look at him, his gaze over you filled with a mix of sorrow and unwavering love that you manage to feel just by looking into his dark, warm eyes. “But I need you to know how much you mean to me, no matter what happens”

“Poe,” you scoff-whine. “I know. You’re pretty transparent about it already” you grin. 

When he’s not saying it explicitly, he always has a hand on you, always at least leaves a kiss over your cheek or forehead when he’s not full-on kissing you, and always makes sure to bring you back those jogan fruit cakes you like from Coruscant when he has to go there, and just the way he looks at you has you aware that he loves you, so he really doesn’t need to do that much, but he’s Poe Dameron, so it’s a prerogative.

“I happen to be a very romantic man” he jokes, smiling when he sees you chuckle and shake your head the way you do when he pulls stupid lines. “I just wanted you to hear it from me one last time sweetheart.”

“You and your dramatic flair” you tease lightly, gripping onto his jacket as you let out a soft groan. “You couldn’t just leave a normal message, could you?”

“You know, subtlety isn’t my strong suit” he grins, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “But seriously, I’m sorry you had to hear it like this. It was meant for dramatic times, not when I was about to ask you if you wanted to get dinner off base like now.”

You snort up a laugh, your arms wrapping around his neck. “You do owe me dinner after that.” 

“I know, right?” he scoffs, an amused smile over his face. “And it means I get to spend more of my alive time with you, so–” he teases, his fingers gently rubbing your back. “Stop that, it’s not funny” you frown, playfully hitting his chest with the back of your hand. “–Plenty of time to remind you that I love you” his hand squeezes yours gently.

You pull him closer, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that is both tender and intense, slow at first but deepening when the fear, the relief, the overwhelming love you feel for him step at the front of your mind. His hand moves from your hip to cup your face, his thumb caressing the skin of your cheeks rough from the tears.

When you break apart, your foreheads are still linked, his fingers gently tracing your face, your breaths mingling. “I’m joking about this, but I promise I’ll do my best for you to not have to listen to this recording again anytime soon.” 

“Mh, hope ‘anytime soon’ means a few decades at least”

“I promise. I love you too much to leave you like this. And I know I’ll look sexy when my hair turns gray” he adds with a playful smile.

You laugh, the sound breaking the lingering tension and bringing a sense of normalcy back. “Oh, definitely” you grin, raking your fingers through his curls. “Most handsome silver fox in the galaxy.” 

Poe smiles, kissing you again, softly. You can very clearly feel BB–8’s presence when you pull away, his needy beeps attesting of his need for attention.

“Yeah, alright buddy” you sigh, turning back to the droid to finish up his repair.

“So he’s okay?” Poe asks, approaching the workbench. 

“He’s all fine, good as new” you smile. “Hey, try running a diagnostic”

The droid runs his internal check, beeping happily once he’s done and everything seems to be alright.

“See?” you turn to Poe. “All good.” you grin at him, glad to have something concrete to smile about after that emotional rollercoaster you went through.  

“Thank you, really. I knew you’d fix him up” Poe declares, smiling as he watches BB roll off the workbench and onto the floor, navigating around your feet. “And I was serious about that dinner, by the way,” he says, watching you putting away your tools and tidying up your workbench. “We could both use a break.”

“Yeah,” you agree, scoffing. 

Poe’s hand finds yours as you turn the light off and leave the workshop, your fingers tangling as you walk through the corridors of the base, finding your way out. 

“Hey,” Poe calls, pulling you closer as you walk. You hum, looking at him, noticing the slight hint of worry in his eyes. “You really think I’d look hot with gray hair?”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Absolutely baby”

A content smile grows over his face, and he nods. “Cool.”

—

any and every comment/reblog is greatly appreciated!!

star wars taglist:

@lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift

@whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry

@jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious

@stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @pigeonmama

[biting-miguel-ohara]

Age Difference with Logan Howlett

A/N: I hope this satisfies both the age difference and the bratting for this request. It’s not mentioned in the fic, but I wrote the Reader to be in his twenties or so.

ALSO!!! This fic is dedicated to the wonderful anon who sent me such a nice ask the other day. Thank you for your words; they were deeply appreciated. Also, bc it wouldn’t be here without them, this is dedicated to the anon who requested it. I hope it fits what you were wanting <3

Written for an ftm!Reader

Link to masterlist here

CW: bratting; implied age difference (Reader is younger than Logan); language; explicit sexual content; smut; mentioned spanking; Reader’s arousal is called slick; Logan carries Reader; Reader is called devil, pretty boy, and good boy; spanking; errrr Logan smacks Reader’s parts; Reader’s parts are called dick and hole; mentioned crying; slight fingering; Logan tastes Reader’s slick; unprotected penetrative sex; rough sex; missionary position, I think?; implied multiple rounds; implied cum eating; implied cunnilingus; no mentioned aftercare

1829 words

It starts as all your great plans do. By impulse and a touch of chaos.

“Hey. Can you get me a beer since you’re in the kitchen?”

You don’t even look up at the sound of Logan’s voice. You know he’s talking to you, but you make him say it again before glancing over at him. “Hmm? You want what?”

His eyes narrow. You know he can tell you’re up to something. “A beer. Please.”

You almost do it. Just for the addition of the please. But the chaos in you wins out. You turn away again. “Do it yourself.”

Then, just to add fuel to the fire, you add, “Old man.”

Silence. You revel in it. It’s not everyday you can get him like this.

After a few moments of you continuing to not get the beer, he stands up and gets it himself. Muttering, “Fucking brat,” on his way back.

You know you’ve gotten off lightly, but that’s not what you were wanting. No, you want to see him all riled up and pissed off. He always fucks you rough on those days.

You do it again on a mission.

“Hey, kid, can you pass me the—“

“No.” You hate it when he calls you kid. It makes you feel small. A little too young. And he usually remembers that.

“Please, can I have the—“

“Nope. Go fetch, old man.”

You can feel how much he wants to spank you. Smack you across the ass and growl out that you need to behave.

But you’re around others, so he just grunts angrily and goes to get it himself.

The final blow is when he’s in the mansion garage. It’s late. Everyone’s in bed except for him. And you, but only because you spent way too long waiting for him and now you’re pissed enough to go find him.

You lean against his workbench, watching him intently. You know he knows you’re there, but he only acknowledges you with a grunt.

Then, “Pass me that tool, will you?”

You know which tool he’s talking about. It’s literally right next to you. But you hold his gaze as you speak. “No. Get it yourself, old man.”

His jaw clenches. After a moment, he steps back from his motorcycle and brushes off his jeans. He turns to face you, gaze dark and unyielding. “You know, I’m getting real sick of your fucking attitude.”

His tone sends a thrill down your spine. All dark and growly and low. You’re not surprised to feel slick gathering in your boxers.

But he pauses. Sniffs the air. When he refocuses on you, his gaze is hungry. “So, this is a game to you, huh? You’re being a brat on purpose.”

You cross your arms, still holding his gaze. “And what if I am? We both know you can’t handle me, old— Fuck!”

He scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder with ease. You squirm; half in discomfort, half because it’s so fucking hot. You know he knows, but still you protest. “Logan, put me down! I’m not a fucking kid!”

“You sure act like one,” he snarls back, striding purposefully through the dark halls. His hand coming up to grip your ass. “Sassing me and giving me that crap attitude. Can’t even act your fucking age for once. Gotta make me do all the goddamn work.”

“I didn’t mean—“

“I know exactly what you meant, you little devil.” His fingers dig into your ass, a subtle warning. “You meant to have some good old fun with me, didn’t you? Maybe get me all riled up so I’ll fuck you all nice and angry like.”

You keep your mouth shut this time. He knows you a little too well.

At your lack of an answer, he spanks your ass. Hard. You yelp and squirm, not expecting the blow at all. “Logan!”

“I asked you a question. Answer it.”

“Yes! Yes, that’s what I was doing!” You whimper a little. Maybe if he wasn’t carrying you, you’d give him more attitude. But in this position? You’re practically defenseless.

Not to mention, the puddle of slick in your boxers is getting uncomfortable with your pants on.

So you keep quiet, letting him carry you without issue to his room. As you pass, you’ve never been more grateful that Logan’s room is the furthest in the mansion. You can be as loud as you want without disturbing too many of the teachers.

Some of them will just have to suffer.

Logan opens the door to his room and enters. Shutting it behind him.

“You little motherfucker,” he growls, tossing you on the bed. “Strip. Now.”

You scramble to obey before you even realize you’re doing it. Pushing your pants halfway down your legs before it occurs to you to argue.

He can sense your hesitation. He lets out a low growl, eyes narrowing. You resume taking off your pants.

“That’s a good boy.”

A part of you preens at the praise. The other part wants to snark back. You just pull off your shirt and keep quiet.

Your boxers are sticky with slick. Sticky and uncomfortable. You need them off, and soon. You don’t know if you can go another moment without Logan touching you in some way.

As if on cue, Logan reaches over and hooks his fingers under the waistband of your boxers. He yanks them down, making you squirm from the sudden rush of cool air against your sensitive body.

“Logan… don’t be—“ You stop. Now is not the time for whining, especially not with that look in his eyes.

“Don’t be what?” His voice is low, a dangerous challenge. “Don’t be what, pretty boy?”

You squirm and fight back a whimper as he forces your legs up and apart. Pressing your knees to either side of your chest. Exposing you to him.

When you don’t answer, his hand comes down. Hard, right on your aching parts. You yelp, words bubbling out of you. “I was gonna say don’t be mean! But— Then I remembered—“

“You want me to be mean.” He growls, low and deep. “Fucking greedy little thing. You’re never satiated, are you? Always whining and begging after me for more.”

His hand comes down again, the wet slick coating your thighs only making the sound worse. You jolt this time, blinking back prickles behind your eyes. You know he’s trying to get you to cry. But you’re not going to give it to him so easily.

Even if you really, really want to.

His fingers swipe along you, gathering up your slick and circling around your throbbing dick. You shudder at the pleasure, whimpering softly. It feels so good after the pain.

He pops his fingers into his mouth, sucking the slick from them. He groans softly, eyes darkening at the flavor. “You taste delicious. If you weren’t so damn bratty, I’d consider feasting on you. But you had to go and be a little bastard.”

His hands move to his belt, unbuckling it and letting his pants drop to his ankles. He steps out of them, stripping out of his boxers as well.

Your mouth waters. He’s already hard, so thick and long you can practically feel him in your guts already. You wanna suck him off so bad. Make him see you could be a good boy.

But the desire for him to fuck you is even stronger.

“Please, Logan,” you whisper.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

He smirks. “Since you asked so nicely…”

He lines himself up, leaning over you. He pins your hands down, gripping your wrists firmly in one hand. “I’m going to fuck the brat right out of you. And if it doesn’t work the first time, I’ll do it again and again until you’re too cockdumb to argue.”

The threat sends a thrill down your spine. You open your mouth to say something snarky, but he pushes in. Slowly working his cock deeper and deeper into you. Splitting you open.

Your words die on your tongue, replaced by a whiny moan. You clench hard around him, making him growl and dig the fingers of his free hand into your hip.

“That’s— fuck— much better.” He grunts, slowly rolling his hips to push his cock further into your leaking hole. “God, I love the sounds you make. So desperate and needy.”

“Fuck, ahhh! Logan!” You clasp your hands together, squeezing tightly as your body takes him. It feels like heaven; being split open until you feel like you can’t possibly take any more.

He finally bottoms out, allowing you a moment to adjust to his size. Then he pulls out and slams back in, making you arch and babble. He does this a few more times; slow, strong thrusts that split you apart and go so deep you swear his dick must be reaching your stomach.

Then he picks up the pace, and your mind turns to mush. You can’t think, can’t moan, can’t do anything but babble out cries of his name. You’re arching, writhing, squirming desperately to be able to hold onto him.

But he keeps your hands pinned firmly down. Speeding up until he’s fucking you roughly. Like you’re nothing but a thing for him to use.

“That’s my good fucking boy,” he snarls out. “Taking me so well.”

You can feel your orgasm mounting. Building and rising until you’re begging, pleading, and finally sobbing for him to let you cum. You know better than to cum without permission, especially when he’s all riled up like this.

“Cum for me, you little brat. Cum for me like a good boy.”

You clamp down on him, squeezing him as your orgasm hits. You arch and cry out, your vision going fuzzy.

A moment later, you relax into a puddle. Melting into the sheets as he continues to fuck you. Making you whine softly from the shocks of pleasure and warmth seeping through you.

With one last big thrust and a snarl of your name, Logan pulls out, cumming all over your dick and hole. He pants, releasing your wrists to drag a hand down his face. “Fuck.”

He sounds out of breath, but his eyes smolder with embers of heat. “You did good.”

You give him a lazy grin, stretching a bit. “Wanna clean me up? Or am I still too much of a brat for that?”

He huffs, a low growl in his tone. “Oh, I’ll clean you up alright. I’m making good on my promise. I’m fucking that attitude right on out of you.”

For a moment, you’re sure he has to be joking. You’re already weak from the strength of your first orgasm. He’s not really gonna make you go again, right?

But as he moves to lay between your legs, a couple things become clear. One, you’re in for a long, long night.

And two? He looks way too good between your legs.

[the-s1lly-corner]

ADMIN I AM ON MY KNEES BEGGING YOU PLEASE WRITE THE READER SLAPPING SLASHER ASS WITH THE STICKY HAND THING

Slapping their ass w/ the sticky hand thing

Genuine question but does the sticky hand thing have like... a name 😭😭 theres got to be a better name than sticky hand thing

Characters: jason, thomas, bubba

Notes: reader is GN, established relationship, non sexual you're just being diabolical and mischievous

CWs: none

JASON

doesnt even notice the first time you do it so you do it a little harder the second time- he doesnt flinch or jump, instead he kind of curls into himself and does a half turn to investigate... if you did it how did you to it from across the room?

almost seems like a scared animal, alert and on guard- something just hit him and he doesnt know what it was and he cant find where it came from... did you flick something at him? why did you do that?

doesnt even register that you got him on the ass for a moment until you bring it up... he simply... stares at you, but you can see the tips of his ears turning a faint pink

THOMAS

jolts a little at his workbench as hes working on cleaning some of the worse gunk off of some tools... his reaction is no where as big as bubbas but it does give him pause

honestly he might ignore it, assuming you dont do it a second time to see if he would begin to investigate ... half turns to you before you can hide the thing out of sight and hes in front of you within seconds

not angry, but hes gently prying your hands open to see what youve got... oh...! a... thingy... small head tilt before he lets go of your hands

why, though..? hes not entirely opposed to you touching him, albeit hes still a little to you touching his butt (and other bits) if youre not married yet... just dont do it while hes handling sharp tools next time! and preferably not when hoyt or luda are in the next room- youre both bound to get an earful for the act

BUBBA

legitimately jumps because it takes him by surprise, spins around to try to find what's hit him but youve already pulled the hand back

not so much stressed that he was hit on his ass moreso distressed that he cant find what did it, you feel bad enough to come clean about it after a moment when he starts gesturing towards you- did you see anything? what happened??

takes the toy in his hand and stretches it between his fingers, watches it return to its original shape... has genuinely never seen anything like this in his life ever and hes wondering where you even got one of these anyway

dont do it again! at least not with the sticky hand, too bad of an introduction to it...

[vibeswithdivs]

He’s more patient than he looks

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

The hum of conversation filled the Red Bull Racing headquarters as employees bustled about with an energy that was almost infectious. Engineers huddled over laptops, mechanics leaned against tool racks with grease-streaked hands, and the faint smell of coffee lingered in the air. It was a world that thrummed with purpose, speed, and precision—qualities that the newcomer sitting at her desk felt slightly out of sync with.

You can do this, she told herself for the hundredth time that day.

Being a social media manager for one of the most prominent teams in Formula 1 was a dream job. Yet, as she stared at the screen, where a half-finished tweet about race day statistics blinked back at her, that dream felt a lot more like a free-fall. She wasn’t just crafting posts about breakfast specials or gym memberships anymore—she was managing the online presence of an entire racing empire.

And, truthfully, she was floundering.

“Morning!”

The cheerful voice made her jump, and she turned to see her colleague, Sophie, leaning over her cubicle wall with a grin. “How’s the newbie settling in?” Sophie asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh… good!” she replied quickly, pasting on a smile that she hoped masked her nerves.

Sophie tilted her head, unconvinced. “You’ve been staring at that screen for an hour, and the only thing you’ve posted today is a retweet from Pirelli. Do you need help?”

“No, I’m just—” She paused, biting her lip. “I don’t even know what half these terms mean. DRS, power unit, undercut… it’s like everyone here is speaking a different language.”

Sophie’s face softened. “It is a different language,” she said with a chuckle. “Give it time. It’s only your first week. You’ll get the hang of it. And if you’re still lost, you’ve got plenty of people to ask.”

“Like who?”

“Like me,” Sophie said with a wink. “Or, if you’re feeling brave, you could ask the drivers. Max and Checo are usually good sports about answering questions.”

“Right,” she said, laughing nervously. “Because it’s totally normal to walk up to Max Verstappen and ask him to explain tire degradation.”

“You’d be surprised,” Sophie replied with a grin. “He’s more patient than he looks.”

She didn’t expect to test Sophie’s theory quite so soon. Later that afternoon, while she was setting up her phone to record a behind-the-scenes video in the garage, she heard a familiar voice behind her.

“Need help?”

She turned, almost dropping her phone when she saw Max Verstappen standing there, dressed in his Red Bull team kit and holding a bottle of water. His blue eyes were bright with curiosity, and his expression was disarmingly friendly.

“Uh… no! I mean, yes. Maybe?” she stammered, fumbling with the tripod. “Sorry, I’m still figuring all this out.”

Max chuckled, setting his water down on a nearby workbench. “Don’t worry about it. What are you trying to do?”

“I’m supposed to get some footage of the engineers prepping your car, but I can’t get the angle right, and—” She broke off, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. “It’s my first week. I’m still getting the hang of everything.”

“You’re doing fine,” Max said, his tone reassuring as he stepped closer. “Here, let me see.”

She handed him the phone, watching as he adjusted the tripod with practiced ease. He crouched slightly, angling the camera until it perfectly captured the scene in the garage.

“Like this?” he asked, stepping back to let her check.

She stared at the screen in amazement. “That’s… perfect. How did you do that so quickly?”

“Years of media obligations,” he said with a shrug. “You pick up a thing or two.”

She smiled, feeling some of her nervousness ebb away. “Thanks, Max.”

“No problem,” he replied, picking up his water bottle. “And if you ever need help with anything else—questions, technical stuff, whatever—just ask. It’s better than guessing.”

Max wasn’t kidding. Over the next few weeks, she found herself turning to him more often than she expected, and he answered every question with surprising patience.

“What’s a DRS zone?” she asked one afternoon during a lunch break.

“It’s where we can open the rear wing to go faster,” Max explained, demonstrating with his hands. “But only in certain areas and under certain conditions. You know, to make overtaking easier.”

“And what’s an undercut?” she asked the next day while filming a promo video in the paddock.

Max smirked. “That’s when you pit earlier than the car ahead of you to get fresher tires and gain track position. But timing is everything. If you mess it up, it doesn’t work.”

“Right,” she said, nodding along even though she still felt a bit lost.

Max seemed to notice her confusion because he added, “It’s like beating someone to the front of the line at a concert by taking a shortcut. Make sense?”

“Ahh,” she said, grinning. “That actually helps.”

With Max’s encouragement, her confidence grew. She started experimenting with different content ideas, from quirky Instagram stories to polished YouTube vlogs. Her colleagues noticed the change, offering praise and feedback that bolstered her even further.

But it was Max’s quiet support that made the biggest difference. He never made her feel stupid for asking questions or stumbling over her words, and his humor often turned stressful moments into something lighter.

One evening, as she sat in the media center editing a race weekend highlight reel, Max walked by and paused to watch over her shoulder.

“Not bad,” he said, nodding at the screen.

“‘Not bad’?” she repeated, turning to him with a mock glare.

He grinned. “Okay, fine. It’s great. But you missed the part where I overtook Checo in Turn 3. That was the best move of the race.”

She rolled her eyes, laughing. “I’ll add it to the blooper reel.”

“Bloopers?” he said, pretending to look offended. “That was pure talent.”

She shook her head, unable to suppress her smile. “You’re impossible, Verstappen.”

“And you’re doing a great job,” he said, his tone softening. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

By the time the season reached its midpoint, she felt like she’d finally found her footing. The fast-paced world of Formula 1 no longer felt overwhelming; instead, it felt exhilarating.

One evening, after a particularly successful social media campaign, she found herself standing on the balcony of the team’s hospitality unit, watching the sun set over the paddock. Max joined her a few minutes later, leaning against the railing with a relaxed smile.

“Long day?” he asked.

“Always,” she replied with a chuckle. “But I think I’m getting the hang of it.”

“I’d say you’re more than getting the hang of it,” Max said. “You’ve been killing it lately. Everyone’s noticed.”

She glanced at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “Really?”

“Really,” he said, meeting her gaze. “And in case you haven’t noticed, you’ve made this job your own. You’ve brought something new to the team. It’s good.”

Her chest swelled with gratitude, and she looked down, trying to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. “Thanks, Max. For everything. I don’t think I would’ve survived my first month without you.”

He chuckled, reaching out to nudge her shoulder playfully. “Anytime. You’re part of the team now, and we take care of our own. Even if you still ask a million questions.”

She laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Get used to it, Verstappen. I’ve got plenty more where those came from.”

Max smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Bring it on.”

[spotsspeciall]

Factory meetings vol.2 - LN4

Lando Norris x fem!reader

summary: second part to: Factory meetings

notes: Better late than never lol. Sorry for the long wait! But I write everything on PC, and of course something happened to it so I had to get it fixed. And not only that, but when I sat down to finally write, I had major writer's block! But here it is!! FINALLY!!

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. smut (double smut bby), unprotected (wrap it before you tap it!) p in v, language, jealous!Lando, rough, fingering, soft!Lando (shit got real at the end lol)

word count: 10k

masterlist

It had been a week since it happened. And next week you were supposed to see him again, the Chinese grand prix coming up. You were freaking out to put it mildly. 

You had spent your off time at home, and you had shared what happened with Sophie. And as you suspected, she was shocked and a little grossed out. But you knew she would come around. And she did, so she asked you about all the details, when you told her, the two of you screamed and laughed together. Now the whole thing had turned into a sort of inside joke between you and Sophie. 

But as the race week was coming up, you got more and more nervous. What was he going to act like now? You really didn’t want to face him, knowing what the two of you had done together. But you couldn’t stop thinking about it, day and night, it was seared into your brain. (But you didn’t want to stop thinking about it either.)

Walking into the paddock on Friday, you did your usual routine, unbothered by anyone. You made your way into the garage, and walked over to the workbench against the wall, and started looking through your tools. 

You sorted through a few of them, getting them ready, knowing which ones you would need the most today. 

You enjoyed getting into the garage a little earlier than the others, having some quiet, alone time. And getting in the zone. Focusing on your job so much that you didn’t notice someone walked in.

Lando walked into the garage, knowing you would be here. He only came here for you. He walked up behind you and looked over your shoulder, watching you picking up the different small tools. 

You were so focused, but a familiar scent flooded your nose. He smelled so intoxicating, it literally made your knees weak. And the second it hit you, and you felt his hot breath at the back of your neck. You froze, and dropped the tool in your hand, making a clattering sound as it hit the table. 

“Sorry, did I scare you baby?” 

He was so close to your ear, and you could feel the smirk on his face.

You could not move, or utter a word. So Lando stepped to the side, and leaned his hip against the counter. 

“I’m sorry, I was just curious to see what you were doing” He smiled sweetly at you, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

“I- uh, I was just sorting through my tools, getting the ones I need the most” You answered without thinking, still somewhat confused why he was being nice.

“Oh, ok” he nodded, looking towards the tools like he was thinking about something. 

You felt your jaw clench, and your eyes stared daggers at him. Your brain was connecting the dots. Of course he wasn’t being nice to you, he was looking for ways to annoy you, and tease you.

He reached his hand out to grab a small screwdriver to look closely at it. 

“What is this one for?” He looked up from the screwdriver to meet your eyes with a soft look.

He was not fooling you. Lando could see your whole demeanor had changed. And you could see the look in his eyes changed, for some reason he looked kind of worried? It knocked you off balance, and the look in your eyes softened. 

“Sorry if I'm bothering you, I was just curious” He looked dejected as he went to put the screwdriver back in its place.

Before you had any time to think, your hands flew out to grab onto his hand before he dropped the tool. 

“No, I’m sorry” “You’re not bothering me” Your anxious eyes met his, but he looked back down to where you were both holding the screwdriver, your eyes following after. 

You let his hand go and let out an awkward chuckle. Your eyes looking everywhere but him. But he stretched his hand out to give you the screwdriver. 

“So you want to tell me what it’s for?” His sweet smile had returned, as you were forced to meet his eyes again. 

“Uhm- yeah sure!” You grabbed the tool from his hand and turned on your heel to walk over to the front left tyre suspension. 

You crouched down so your face was closer to the suspension. You turned your head to look for Lando, not feeling him behind you. He was still standing at the counter, so you waved him over. A giggle escaping you when he finally got the hint and walked over. 

Soon enough he was beside you, crouched down just like you. So you pointed a finger to where the suspension was connected to the car. 

“You see those small screws there?”

He looked a bit closer before turning to you. “yeah”

“Yup” “that’s what this is for” you held the screwdriver up as you nodded. 

He let out a small chuckle. “You could’ve just told me that over there” He pointed towards where the both of you had been standing earlier. 

“Yeah, but I wanted to show you.” “It’s good to know your car” You smiled brightly at him.

“Yeah, I guess” he smiled back.

You were just looking into eachothers eyes, completely lost in eachother. Until someone spoke up.

“What are you guys doing?” You looked up to meet the eyes of Jonas, one of your fellow mechanics. 

“Oh- um, I was just showing him what this screwdriver is for” You held the tool up to show Jonas, trying to act as normal as possible, not like you had just been drowning in those gorgeous eyes. 

“Okayyy..” Jonas narrowed his eyes at the pair of you before walking further into the garage. 

You turned your head when you felt Lando stand up. Meeting his eyes when he towered over you, he stretched his hand out for you. It took you a moment to register before you put your hand in his, and he pulled you to your feet. 

Now standing in front of him, you saw his mouth open and close, like he was going to say something. Lando was at a loss for words staring at you. The soft look you had in your eyes as you just looked at him, he felt like no one had ever looked at him that way. But he finally managed to get some words out.

“I- I have to go” “see you later” He nodded, and left before you could even say anything.

When he came back to the garage, to get ready for FP1, you talked with him when he got into the car.

“Everything’s good?” you asked, making sure the car seemed good.

“Yeah” “perfect like always Y/N” He smiled up at you.

“good”... “great”... “alright” You said as you tried to find something else to focus on, walking away to try and pretend to do your job. 

You watched him put on his helmet, and when he finished adjusting it, he looked over at you and gave you a wink before he closed the visor, and drove out of the garage. 

End of the day you walked towards the exit, ready to head back to the hotel. You had walked out with Jonas, getting a ride with him to the hotel. 

Walking to his car, he nudged your side with his elbow. 

“Hey” “What’s going on with Lando?” “I have never seen him like that” He had a sly smirk on his face.

“I really don’t know” “He just asked questions about the car, and I answered” You tried to laugh it off, he could not know what happened between the two of you. 

“Weird” He laughed back.

Lando was standing by his car door, just about to get in before he heard your sweet laugh. He turned his head and watched you and Jonas talking and laughing together. You were standing so close. Lando felt his jaw clench, and his knuckles turned white when he squeezed his fists. 

He watched the two of you get into the car and drive off, smile still present on your beautiful face. A smile he felt should only be for him. An unfamiliar feeling tugged at his heart, a feeling he didn’t like. And he knew the only person who could fix that, would be you. So he sped off after you, towards the hotel .   

You and Jonas arrived at the hotel before Lando, and you didn’t waste any time making your way to your hotel room, saying goodbye to Jonas when you walked out of the elevator. 

Entering your room, You headed straight to the pile of clothes on your bed, your comfy clothes, that you had left there when you had to change out of them this morning. After taking off your bra and putting the comfy clothes on, you collapsed on your bed, exhausted from the long day. You reached for your phone, and opened tiktok. But not even halfway through the first tiktok, there was a knock at your door.

It was quite aggressive, and it didn’t stop knocking. You figured maybe Sophie had just gotten back, and had some gossip to share with you. So you hurried over to open the door. 

You tore the door open to stop the harsh knocking, and expected to be faced with Sophie, but instead you saw an angry looking Lando standing in front of you. You jerked your head back in confusion, and went to ask what he was doing here. But he was quicker.

He took a step forward, making you step backwards so he didn’t collide with you. He shut the door behind him, now in your room. 

“Is he here?” He asked, frantically looking around the room. 

“What?” 

“Is Jonas here?” He was now staring at you, a fire in his eyes. 

“What the fuck are you talking about Norris?” “And what the fuck are you even doing here?” You felt your eyes narrow at him, anger bubbling up inside you. 

“I saw the two of you getting in his car, laughing and shit” “So you two are a thing now or what?” He took a step towards you, now so close that you could feel his breath on your face. 

“Oh my god Lando!” You threw your hands up in frustration and opened your mouth to say more. 

“Is. He. Here?” His voice was so low, and his eyes were so dark when he looked down at you. 

“NO!” You yelled back. 

And before you could tell him to get the fuck out, he grabbed the sides of your face and smashed your lips against his. 

You melted at the kiss, and you snaked your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to you. You couldn’t control yourself around him. 

Lando was so tense, and so aggressive. But the second you kissed him back, and held onto him. You felt him relax against you. The kiss immediately turning passionate and sweet. 

But Lando was still jealous, and his hunger for you only grew as you kept kissing him back. He took slow steps forward, making you follow him towards the bed. 

Before your legs hit the bed, you felt Lando grab onto the hem of your sweater and swiftly pulled it over your head, your tits bouncing from the sheer force he used. 

His eyes immediately found your chest and he made the softest moan. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you” He muttered.

He tore his own clothes off, and yours. Until you both were completely naked. He wasted no time in capturing your lips again, his hands roaming all over your body, before they found their way to the back of your thighs, squeezing them to signal you to jump. And you did, no hesitation.

A moan escaped your throat when you felt his dick against your inner thigh. But you didn’t even have time to think about it before you back hit the soft mattress, as he threw you onto the bed. 

Opening your eyes, you looked up to see Lando still standing there, looking at you with a hungry look in his eyes before he climbed onto the bed, and made his way between you legs. 

Your legs wrapped themselves around his waist, but he kept enough space between you, so his dick wasn’t near you, making you whine. You just wanted him already. His eyes immediately found yours when you made that sound, catching him off guard. 

“I didn’t know you needed me that bad babe” “Patience darling” He grabbed onto your jaw as he brought your face closer to his and whispered “Patience”. 

You crashed your lips against his, tightening your hold around his waist, trying to pull him closer. When he felt what you were doing, he pulled back and looked down at you with dark eyes. 

“So needy” 

You felt his fingers softly grazing the inside of your thigh, so close to where you needed him. Your hips moved, trying to find his fingers. And he gave in, tracing a finger through your folds.

He pushed a finger slowly inside, making you throw your head back and moan. He saw the effect it had on you, and soon added a second finger. Slowly pushing them in and out. And when he started tracing circles on your clit with his thumb, you were a moaning mess. 

You grabbed a hold of his forearm that was resting on your thigh, and you opened your eyes and met his. He had that same dark look that you were getting used to seeing, and his mouth was slightly open. It was like he was studying your every facial expression, seeing how much effect he had on you. 

You went to close your eyes again, you climax getting close. But he quickly pulled his fingers all the way out, the loss of his fingers making you gasp.

And when you opened your eyes to look at him, you saw him slowly bring his fingers to his mouth, he sucked his fingers clean and let out a groan at the taste. 

“Fuck, you taste so sweet” 

Without warning his fingers entered you again, forcefully sliding in and out. It made you arch your back from the sudden pleasure. You squeezed your eyes shut and grabbed a hold of the sheets beneath you. 

It didn’t take long until he was satisfied and pulled them back out. And before you could complain again, he was above you. 

You opened your eyes to see his face hovering above yours, you looked deep into his eyes, completely mesmerized. Until you felt something wet on your lips. You looked down to see the fingers he just had inside you.

“Now be a good girl and open up”

And you did. Slowly opening your mouth and welcoming his fingers. 

You could taste yourself, and it made you moan. Sucking his fingers completely clean, swirling your tongue around the two digits. You could see it in his eyes, just how weak you made him. 

He went to pull his fingers out of your mouth, but before they completely left your mouth, his grip tightened around your jaw. 

As he was holding on to your jaw, he looked deep into your eyes as he entered you, hard, until he bottomed out inside you. It caught you off guard and you let out a loud moan. 

“Fuck” “I missed you so much sweetheart” His voice was low and rough.

He slowly pulled out of you, until his tip was the only thing inside you, before he slammed back into you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

He kept thrusting at a relentless pace, making your breathing uneven as he was slamming into you. His hold on your jaw softened, as he soon let his hand wander down to softly rest against the side of your throat. 

He buried his head in your neck, making you hear every small sound he made. His breathing heavy, and small groans he let out. You wanted- no. You needed to hear more. 

You wrapped your legs tighter around him, and your fingers raked up his biceps and shoulders, until they found the back of his neck. 

You were clawing and grabbing at anything you could. And you arched your back as much as you could, the pleasure immense. 

You whined in his ear. “Lando”

It made him lift his head out of your neck, his face red and sweaty. Some of his curls stuck to his forehead. He looked heavenly. 

It made you grab the sides of his face, dragging him down so his lips landed on yours. It was sloppy and wet, but god, the way his mouth felt on yours was breathtaking. 

Lando was the one to break the kiss, lifting his head to catch his breath. As he looked down at you, your mouth slightly open, your lips wet and pink, your pupils dilated as you looked deep into his eyes. It made him mutter out a string of curse words as he picked up his pace, chasing his orgasm. 

He found that spot inside you that made you see stars, your own orgasm getting close. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, as you kept looking up at Lando, you couldn’t tear your eyes away. 

Lando’s hand, which had been resting on the side of your throat, moved to wrap itself around your throat, and he tightened his grip. He didn’t make it difficult for you to breathe, but he was putting pressure that made everything feel so much better. 

Your hands wrapped themselves around his forearm, nails digging into his skin. Your mouth opened as you let high pitched moans slip out. 

“You like that huh?” He was almost grinning at you.

You couldn’t get words out, but a drawn out “mhm” came out of you.

Your orgasm was so close, as Lando’s pace had only picked up, and he was still slamming into you with so much force. 

Lando felt it, your pussy clenching just a little bit more around him.

“You close? hm?” 

“Yes” Was all you managed to get out, your eyes closing as you focused.

It took all the strength Lando had to slow his pace and soften his movement just enough to not make you cum yet.

Your hips moved to try and chase your orgasm, but when Lando felt that, his hold on your throat squeezed to get your attention. 

Opening your eyes, you were met with Lando’s dark eyes. You couldn’t help but beg.

“Please let me cum” “Please Lando” You sound as whiny as you could, hoping he would give in.

“I will” “When you tell me who you belong to” His voice was deep and he sounded almost angry. But a smirk grew on his face when he felt your pussy clench again, just from what he said. 

“You Lando” “I belong to you” You were giving him your all, desperate for him to let you cum. 

“And who’s the one making you feel this good?”

“You Lando” “It’s all you” you moaned. “Please”

“Fuck sweetheart” “I can’t resist you when you beg like that”

His hand left your throat and circled around your waist, his palm spread on your back. He lifted you with him as he sat further up on his knees. The only thing holding you in this position was his hand, his other hand on the bed, holding the both of you up. 

Your own hands grabbed onto his shoulder to hold yourself against him. 

He started moving his hips again, still inside you. This new position made him go just a bit deeper, making you feel fuller than before. Your climax nearing quickly. 

His head once again found the crook in your neck, and buried itself there making small sloppy kisses along your neck and shoulder. 

Your hand flew up to grab onto his curls as he fucked up into you, until your climax finally hit. A drawn out moan escaping you as every muscle in your body tensed before they relaxed, finally getting that release. 

You felt Lando’s teeth sink into your shoulder as he filled you up. A low groan coming from him. 

He slowly let you sink back on the bed, collapsing on top of you, breathing ragged as one of your hands caressed the back of his neck.

You hadn’t felt this relaxed in months, his now soft breathing almost lulling you to sleep, until you hear him softly mutter against your skin.

“I can’t get enough of you"

You stirred awake as the brightness of the sun hit your face. Slowly opening your eyes, you looked out of the window to see the sun rising, it was gorgeous. 

You felt so cozy as you laid tangled in your sheets. You closed your eyes again to just enjoy the quiet morning. But right as you did, you hear someone breath out a quiet sigh against your shoulder. Opening your eyes and turning your head, you were met with a still sleeping Lando. 

His face was turned towards you and both of his arms were wrapped tightly around you. His curls were messy, and cute. He looked so peaceful.

You had never seen him like this, because usually he was being a cheeky bastard. But now, you couldn’t help but marvel at his features as the sun illuminated his face. 

He distracted you, so it took you a moment before you realized he was in your bed, in your hotel room, cuddling with you. You must’ve fallen asleep last night, and he must’ve not left. Why did he not leave? 

You kind of freaked out a little, and you needed to pee. So when Lando turned onto his back, one arm slipping away from you, you took your opportunity and slipped out of bed. 

You grabbed a tshirt and underwear on your way to the bathroom. After you peed, you stood in front of the mirror as you washed your hands. Looking at yourself, you slipped the shirt over your head, and pulled your underwear on.

You decided to do your usual morning routine while you were in here. So you did your skin care, and brushed your teeth before you stopped to look at yourself again. 

What were you going to do about Lando? This time, to stop your mind from overthinking it, you decided to just open the bathroom door and walk out. 

Opening the door, Lando was facing away from you, still sleeping. So you turned around to close the door carefully. 

When you turned back around, a sleepy Lando was looking back at you. You froze in your place, unsure of what to do. He slowly lifted the covers to where you had been previously laying.

“Come back in here” His voice was so gravelly and low, just incredibly sexy.

“Uh- I- um-” 

“Come on” 

Your body acted for you as you stepped towards the bed, before you slid under the covers. His arms wrapping around your waist to pull you into his chest. His head was resting on your shoulder, and he was actually snuggling into you. You didn’t realize how tense you were until he mumbled.

“Relax baby”

So you did. He was so warm and soft, it made you feel so safe and comforted as he was holding you. So you turned over to face him, sliding down so you could bury your face in his chest. You felt a small chuckle escape him, and one of his hands started tracing figures on your back. 

You hadn’t noticed you fell asleep again until he softly asked.

“Do you have to be at the track any sooner than two?” 

You left your place in his chest and looked up at him, you didn’t really understand what he said as you were still half asleep.

You saw a warm smile spread on Lando’s face. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

You lifted a hand to rub your eyes, “Yeah, but it’s fine” 

He stayed quiet, just studying your face.

“But what did you say?” You dropped your hand and stared up at him.

“I just asked if you had to be at the track any sooner than two” You couldn’t place the look he had on his face.

“Oh” “Uh, no” “You?”

“No”

You didn’t really know what to say now. He had such an intense look on his face and you didn’t know what to do.

He leaned his head down to capture your lips in the softest kiss yet. It was a loving kiss, so foreign to come from Lando.

You melted against the kiss, humming against him as you let him lay you down on your back as he hovered above you, lips still attached. He was the one to break the kiss, lifting his head to look down at you. 

“You want breakfast?”

“um- yeah” You smiled up at him, and nodded wildly. 

He smiled back and lifted himself off to get out of bed. 

You were sitting at a table outside of a cafe. The chair opposite you empty. You sat there staring off into space as you chewed on your bottom lip. Thinking about Lando’s sudden change in personality. 

You didn’t have time to dwell on it too hard before a coffee was placed in front of you. You looked up to meet Lando’s eyes as he sat down across from you. 

“Everything okay?” His eyebrows furrowed, he almost looked concerned. 

“Uh- yeah!” “But how did you know this is my favorite coffee?” You pointed down to the cup in front of you. 

A smile grew on his face. You could never get sick of seeing that kind smile. 

“I pick up on things you know” He seemed so satisfied with himself as he took a sip of his own coffee, leaning back in his chair.

After a good Friday on track in Miami, you walked towards the garage on Saturday, sporting an unusually bright smile. Maybe the reason for it was the work environment? 

Everyone in the garage had been in such a better mood this race weekend, you couldn’t put your finger on why. But, even Lando had a smile on his face most of the time. He was so much easier to work with, and started being really kind to the mechanics and engineers, and everyone basically. 

The good mood was probably just because the team had been doing so good lately, and Miami was a great track for Red Bull. Yeah, of course it was just that. 

Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw Sophie walking towards you. She looked confused and something akin to anger. It made you slow your speed as your smile dropped, worry setting in.

When she finally caught up with you she whisper-yelled at you. “Have you slept with Lando again?!”

She immediately figured out the answered when you looked down at the ground and mumbled a quiet “oh fuck”.

“Jesus Y/N” she sighed.

“I- uh- shit.” “It just happened one time ok!” Your eyes met her in a pleading look.

She didn’t answer, but relief washed over you when she cracked a smile and chuckled. 

“Shit, this bad isn’t it?” She smiled even more at your question.

“No, actually not” 

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at her answer.

“I just asked because I had to do some media work with Lando and Oscar, and Lando has never been that easy to work with. And he was smiling and laughing more than I have ever seen.” “And I know why” She nodded, seeming so secure in her reason. 

“Oh that's good!” “But yeah, that's because he’s been getting good results lately and Miami’s going to be great for him no?”

“No” You looked at her even more confused.

“He’s more happy now, than when he got his first win. And the only thing that has changed around him since then, is that you have been sleeping with him.” She looked so smug, and so confident.

You let out a short laugh. “You’re insane Sophie” “You’re suggesting he’s happier because we have been sleeping together?” 

“I’m not suggesting. I know”

“Bullshit” You scoffed. “I don’t have time for this Sophie, I have to get to the garage”

“I’ll join you!”

“Fine.” You rolled your eyes.

You walked into the garage with Sophie beside you as she talked about what media work she had for the rest of the day. 

The second you walked towards where Lando’s car was parked, Sophie was interrupted.

“Y/N! there you are!” Lando was almost jogging over towards you, a warm smile on his face.

As he stopped in front of you, and looked down at you with such a soft look, making your breath hitch in your throat. 

“We need to do the seat check, and you’re the only one who can get it right” He chuckled.

Your eyes flickered over to Sophie and you saw her smirking back at the two of you. Looking back at Lando, he just looked at you, like he was waiting for an answer. 

“Oh- uh- Yeah” “Of course” You tried your best to not seem flustered. 

Lando’s smile grew just a bit more and he nodded, making his way to get into his car. You looked back at Sophie and she whispered “I am so right” before she winked at you and turned to talk to some of the mechanics. . 

Coming back to it, you walked over to the car and leaned over the halo, closer to where Lando was sitting. 

“So, you think something needs adjusting?” You turned your head to look him in the eyes.

Your faces so close to each other as he looked back at you. And yeah, you had slept with him two times now, but the atmosphere was so different in a situation like this. 

He quickly turned his head to look straight ahead before speaking.

“Yeah, just this bit here” He pointed at what he was talking about, and you nodded before standing up to go retrieve the tool you needed. 

Coming back, you leaned back over the halo, and luckily it was in a place that was fairly easy to access while he was still in the car. So when you finished, you turned back to Lando.

“Like that?”

Lando didn’t answer, but as he looked at you, he slowly lifted his hand and tucked some hair behind your ear. 

“Perfect” he whispered.

You could feel his breath on your face as you just stared back at him, stunned. And he just kept looking at you with those soft eyes that you were completely lost in. 

Your ”staring contest” was interrupted when someone shouted for Lando. Finally being able to move, you stepped back and turned over to your workbench, and tried to shake it off. Your cheeks warm, you probably resembled a tomato.

You tried reminding yourself that he was still a dick he was probably just faking being nice so you would keep sleeping with him or something. Yes. That was definitely it.

After Lando left the garage with the person who was calling him, Jonas walked up to you. 

“Is it just me or has Lando been weirdly nice lately?” He leaned towards you as he spoke quietly so no one would hear. 

You turned to look at him, eyes wide, your facial expression betraying you. He leaned back and his eyebrows furrowed, clearly confused about your reaction. 

You tried your best to brush it off like it was nothing. “Yeah, I just thought it was because he finally got his win, and is getting consistently good results” You forced a smile to try and seem normal, but your mind was running wild about what Sophie had said. 

“Yeah sure” “That has to be it” He started smirking before he slowly walked away, still smirking at you. Your mind was panicking. 

You walked into the Red Bull factory, bright and early in the morning, the warm spring sun making you mood ten times better. 

As you walked past the trophy wall, you saw some people putting in two new trophies. One for first place, and one for second. Lando won in Miami, and Max came second. 

You thought back to the podium where you stood underneath it all as you watched Lando get drowned in champagne, huge smile on his face. He looked irresistible up there. Good thing you didn’t get a moment alone with him after the podium. You probably would’ve folded like a lawn chair if you did. 

All you had today was a bunch of boring meetings, and office work.

The day went by slowly, and when it was finally time to go home. You packed up everything into your bag. And while you stood there, you felt a presence beside you.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here today sweetheart” You could hear that familiar smirk in his voice. It made you roll your eyes.

You turned around and looked at him. He was standing so close, no doubt on purpose. 

“Yes, you did” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Now, how would I know that?” His smirk somehow grew.

“Why else did you come all the way over here to my desk?” You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Hope” He said softly, and the look in his eyes changed.

It took you aback. How he was able to change so quickly from his usual cheeky self, to sweet and kind. You didn’t get to reply before he spoke again.

“You wanna walk out together?”

“Um- Yeah sure” You grabbed your bag and walked beside him through the building. 

Walking out of the doors, The two of you walked towards the car park, and stopped in front of Lando’s car. He looked over at you.

“Did you drive here?”

“Yeah” You smiled at him.

“Oh, okay” He sounded almost disappointed, but quickly brushed it away. “See you soon then!” He smiled big at you before getting into his car. 

You just managed to blurt out “See you!” before he closed his car door, and drove off.

You stood there confused for a second, before you decided not to think too much about it and just get in your own car and drive home. 

You had made yourself a nice dinner, and plopped down in front of the tv to watch your favorite comfort show. 

After finishing, you put the dishes in the dishwasher, and your phone vibrated from your pocket. You pulled it out, and when the screen lit up, you saw the name “Lando Norris”.

“hey are you home?”

You felt your eyebrows furrow in confusion. But you still typed out a reply.

“yeah why?”

He responded right away.

“sorry, I’m just really bored and I want to see you” 

“Lando…”

“do you just want sex?”

“no!” “I know it sounds like that haha but I just want company”

Your heart made the decision for you. Fuck it.

“here’s my address;”

It didn’t take long before you heard a knock on your door, and you opened it for him to come in. 

After he stepped inside, you closed the door behind him. And while your back was still turned to him, you felt his hands wrap themselves around your torso, holding you tight against him. And his forehead rested on your shoulder. It made you stop in your tracks, confused.

“A-Are you okay?” you asked softly.

“Yeah” “I am now” His voice muffled because of your sweater.

You didn’t really know what to do, so you stayed still.

Eventually he said something.

“You smell good” He mumbled as he buried his head further into your shoulder.

“Oh- um- thanks” You felt your face heat up. Strange how a compliment like that had such an effect on you. 

He just kept holding you, and you had been standing like this for a good few minutes now. 

“You wanna go sit down on the couch?”

“Fine” He hesitated, but slowly pulled back until you could step aside and make a move towards the couch.

Sitting down, you reached forward to pick the remote off the table while you felt Lando sit down beside you. You pressed play on what you had been watching earlier, and turned over to look at Lando with a questioning look. 

He looked back at you with an innocent look, like he was kind of intimidated by your stare.

"So.. Why did you really want to come?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I honestly just wanted to spend time with you” He breathed out. 

“Weirdo” You whispered while you leant back into the couch. You heard Lando let out a chuckle.

You shifted your eyes to the tv, and tried to pay attention to it. But from the corner of your eye, you could see Lando shuffling closer to you, until your shoulders, and thighs were touching. 

You turned your head to look up at him. He was already looking down at you with a look in his eyes that made you feel warm and fuzzy. That man could make you feel so many emotions just from his eyes alone. 

Despite wanting to drown in his eyes, you turned your head away, and looked back at the tv. 

Lando was sitting there, still looking at your face studying the tv. He feared he might have pushed it too far, coming here, sitting so close. But the feeling of you leaning into his body silenced his mind quickly, and he made himself a little more comfortable as he relaxed against you. 

You had been sitting in silence for what felt like 15 minutes, until you decided to say something. 

“Sorry if this is really boring” “You want to do something else?” You looked over at him through the corner of your eye.

“No I’m not bored” “But is there something you had in mind?” He looked back at you.

You had just the thing. You stood up and walked over to where your Nintendo switch was, in the stand by the tv. You hooked everything up and grabbed the controls, walked back over and handed one to Lando.

“Mario Kart” 

Lando’s smirk grew, “Oh baby, you know I’m going to win.” His eyes giving you a sympathetic look. 

“Oh Lando..” “You just wait and see pretty boy” You gave him that same sympathetic look, and your hand reached up to softly hold the side of his face.

Lando could feel his heart beat faster. The way you looked at him and held his face. And when you called him “pretty boy” he was done for. He really considered letting you win just by the sheer confidence radiating from you. But when you booted up the game and started choosing the character, his usual competitive personality came back, and he would do everything he could to beat you. 

You were on the last track, and the two of you had been so even, so whoever won this track, won the game. Lando was sweating, he would say he was surprised that you were this good, but he honestly wasn’t.

You were in first place, Lando hot on your tail. And you had just entered the last round, and Lando could see his victory slipping away. He looked over at you and saw how focused you were, your tongue sticking out of your mouth in concentration. 

He saw his perfect opportunity to strike. So he bumped his knee against yours. 

“Hey!” “No fair!” You kept your eyes on the screen as you tried to keep your focus. 

Lando then decided to do the worst, and threw away everything he worked so hard for when one of his hands left the controller and stretched out to grab onto your waist. Making your whole body jolt with the contact. 

And soon after, he started tickling you. You tried your best to make it to the finish line, you really did. But you had no control over how your body reacted to the insistent tickling. 

So the controller flew from your hands, as you tried to stop his arms from moving, to no use. He kept going, now, somehow hovering above you. 

Finally, he gave you a moment to breathe, his hands still holding on to your sides, as he just looked down at you trying to catch your breath. 

You closed your eyes, focusing on your breath. You felt Lando bury his head in the crook of your neck, and his arms circled your waist so he was holding around you, making you arch your body up against him. He put his whole body weight on yours as he laid down on top of you. And you felt him slowly breathing in and out against your neck.

You didn’t know what to say or do, so you just let him be. You just closed your eyes and figured you might as well enjoy the comfort, because it was really really comfortable. You lifted your arms and carefully wrapped them around him, so they were resting on his strong back. 

When Lando felt your arms wrap around him and rest on his back, he automatically buried his head just a bit more, and tightened his grip around you, so you were even closer than before, if that was even possible. 

You could hear the quiet background music still coming from the unfinished game. And you could both hear and feel that Lando’s breath was slowing down, and his body relaxing against you. 

Lando was almost falling asleep. He tried to fight it, but you were just so comfortable. And he didn’t want to admit it, but just the fact that he was holding around you, and you him, was making him feel safe and sound. Lando was on the verge of snoring, and you were noticing.

“Lando” “Are you falling asleep?” You softly whispered, a question you already knew the answer to.

“No” you felt him mumble against your skin. The sound in his voice making it clear that he was lying. 

Lando felt your body shake as you let out a short giggle.

“Was it that obvious?” You felt him smile against your skin. 

“You were almost snoring” “So, yes.” You kept giggling.

Lando let out a short chuckle before he lifted his head so he looked down at you. 

“Well, It’s your fault that you’re so comfortable” He smiled. Such a sweet smile you loved that you were seeing more of. 

Your smile mimicked his as you looked up at him. Lando’s eyes quickly darted across your face, looking at all of your features, committing them to his memory. You looked angelic. Your smile warming up his heart that had grown a bit too cold in recent years. He was already feeling the effects of your warmth. His smile being more common than it used to be. And portraying a kindness to try and match yours. If anyone knew how he felt, they would say he was falling in Love.

Your smile faded, but a soft look still remained on your face. The way that Lando was looking at you, it was like you were completely naked and vulnerable in front of him. But the emotion behind his eyes showed only comfort and admiration. So it wasn’t uncomfortable, quite the opposite.

In that moment, you hoped he would never stop looking at you like that. And to Lando, he would never even want to stop looking at you at all.

Without either of you noticing, your faces had gotten so close, to the point where your lips were just barely touching. Your hands came up to cradle both sides of his face, and the comfort of the feeling, made Lando capture your lips in a soft kiss.

He was in control, and he was kissing you oh so slowly and carefully. Lando had turned so soft and kind, like he cared for you, deeply. He kissed you like you were fragile, Which you both knew from experience that you weren’t. You couldn’t take it anymore.

One of your hands traveled up to tug at his hair, and the other wrapped around his bicep that was beside your head, nails digging into the skin, hoping it could signal him into doing more. 

Either Lando didn’t pick up on your signs, or he did it on purpose. But that man did nothing to heat up the kiss. If anything, he almost kissed you slower.

So you decided to wrap your legs around his waist, your core meeting the bulge in his pants. Unfortunately, he was only half hard, but that was something you intended on changing in a matter of seconds. 

You started moving your hips slowly, up and down against his length, it solicited a small hum from his throat. But that was all it did. Somehow Lando kept his composure. 

But you could feel his dick twitching in his pants. The friction you received from it was making you quietly moan into his mouth. You were going to break him. Make him snap.

You disconnected your legs from him, and you almost heard him whine at the loss of contact. Both of your hands landed on his chest, and you gave a little push, signaling him. He sat up on his knees, and looked down at you, his eyes hooded. 

You sat up on your knees in front of him and gave him another small shove in the chest. “Lay down.” You breathed out.

He did what you said, and layed down on his back, looking up at you with anticipation. You lifted yourself so you could sit back down over his thighs, straddling him. 

You sat far enough back that his now very obvious bulge was right in front of your core. 

You looked back up to find Lando’s eyes and the darkened, familiar look you saw in them, made a shiver run down your spine. 

As you kept eye contact, you brushed your fingertips over his clothed dick. It made his eyes flutter close, and he tilted his head all the way back, his neck more exposed. 

You flattened your palm over the bulge, and moved your hands up and down along the length, in a slow and soft pace. You could see the veins on Lando’s neck getting more visible, as he was straining himself, trying to chase the movement of your hand with his hips. 

His breathing was ragged, and his eyes squeezed shut. And small, choked whimpers came from him. He looked so pretty. 

You decided to give him what he wanted. And when Lando felt your hand disappear, his eyes shot open to beg you for more. But when his eyes landed on you, you had already opened the button on his pants, and dragged the zipper down. 

Lando didn’t have a moment to register it, before your hand was wrapped around his length. A guttural moan came out of him, eyes squeezing shut again.

While your hand was starting to slowly move up and down, with the other, you wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock. Moving further and further down to hold on to his balls. 

You could tell you were doing a good job, just by the amount of sounds coming from Lando. Both his hands had formed fists, his knuckles white as he was doing everything in his power to not snap. 

You swiped your thumb across the tip, collecting the precum that had seeped out. His breath shuddered, and he opened his eyes to look at you with a pleading look. 

It almost made you do exactly what he wanted, almost. But instead, you stopped your movements, and decided to torture him a little. 

So you made your way to stand up and walk off. But the second your feet were on the ground, and your back turned to him. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he pulled you back down. 

You were both sitting on your knees, your back against his chest, and you could feel him poking against your backside. You felt heat flow to your core just at the thought of what he was going to do now. 

Lando grabbed on to the hem of your shirt, and tore it off. His hands immediately finding your bra, unclasping it, and throwing it towards where your shirt went. 

His hands forcefully grabbed your breasts and he ground his hips into your ass, moaning into your ear. 

You could do nothing but wait for his next move. One of his hands slowly traced along your stomach, making its way down to the hem of your pants, while his other hand was wrapped around your torso, holding you tight against him. 

His hand found the button on your pants, and unbuttoned it with one hand, and slowly slid down the zipper. 

His chin was resting on your shoulder, as he looked down to see his hand sliding into your panties. 

You threw your head back at the feeling, resting it on his shoulder. One of his fingers found your hole, and collected the wetness there. 

“Oh, so wet” He cooed in your ear. 

His finger found your clit as he started circling it slowly. Your mouth had opened, as you let all of your sounds spill out. 

Soon he added more pressure, and his touch was more focused. If he kept it up, it wouldn’t be long before you came. 

You tilted your head so your mouth was close to his ear, and you whimpered. “fuck Lando” “Please keep going” You begged.

Quickly, without warning, he pulled his hand out. You whined in complaint.

“Not so fun now, is it?” He spoke directly in your ear. 

You didn’t even have time to reply before he was pulling your pants down to your knees, and instructing you to lift them, so he could take them all the way off. 

You did what he said, leaning your upper body forward on the couch, ass up towards him. 

After he tore yours off, you turned your head over your shoulder, to see him hurrying to take his own off.

His hand landed on your back, pushing your upper body further into the couch, your face squished in the cushions. 

Both of his hands slid down to your ass, and grabbed it firmly, enjoying the sight. And shoved you even more, so he could see more of you. 

You couldn’t see what he was doing, but you felt one of his hands slide further towards your core. And then you felt how close he was when he spoke.

“God, you’re beautiful” He was in awe, just looking at you. 

But soon, his finger found your wet hole, and slowly slid inside. You sighed into the couch cushion, and moved your hips back onto his finger, taking in as much as you could.  

He couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to be inside you. He quickly removed his finger, and you were about to complain. But before you could get a word out, his hands grabbed onto your hips and pulled you back towards him. His dick slid inside so well, filling you up just like you wanted. The feeling almost making you scream.

He let out a loud groan, finally getting the feeling of you being wrapped around him again. He had a tight grip on your hips as he pulled you back to meet his hips everytime he shoved himself inside you. 

His thrusts were getting rough and hard, and you were loving every second of it. Him in complete control, and you babbling incoherent sounds into the cushions. 

You felt the heat build up inside you, and you were getting close. Lando kept his pace up and you could feel his balls slapping against you, the sound of your skin slapping together and both of you moaning was unholy.

You felt Lando lean forward, arm wrapping around your waist, and the other around your chest, so his palm was flattened right against your beating heart. You didn’t even have time to think about what he was doing, the new angle making you see stars. 

Lando pulled your body up as he sat back on his knees. your back against his chest. Just like you were earlier. 

He held you tight against him, as he now fucked up into you. You didn’t think the angle of him inside you could get any better, but oh, how wrong you were. 

You heard Lando swearing under his breath, and you leaned your head back against his shoulder, a moaning mess, and so close. “Lando..” “I’m clo-”

You didn’t get to finish your words before you felt the hand that was wrapped around your waist, slide down to circle his middle finger around your clit. You almost screamed out, the pleasure almost being too much. 

And when you felt his other hand wrap around your throat and squeeze, you were done for. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head as it all came crashing down.

Your thighs were shaking, and your walls were constricting around him, milking him for all he was worth, which sent him over the edge.

He let out a soft whimper as he came, the sound alone almost making you cum for a second time. 

His arms wrapped tightly around your middle, almost hugging you as his forehead rested against your shoulder. 

He took some deep breaths, breathing in your scent, and hummed against you. You felt him growing soft inside you, and some of your fluids started running down your thighs. 

You felt Lando softly lift your hips so he could slide out of you, the emptiness making you whine. He chuckled before he kissed your shoulder and stood up. You collapsed forward on the couch, too tired so stay sitting on your knees. 

You heard Lando walk away towards the bathroom, and soon after, you heard the shower start. You furrowed your brows, a bit confused. Kind of a dick move to just hop in the shower and leave you collapsed on the couch. 

You didn’t even hear Lando walk back out until you felt his fingers softly gracing your arm as he asked you; “You think you can stand up?”

You turned your head and looked up at him, you saw a glint in his eyes when he looked at you, no doubt caused by how absolutely fucked out of your mind you looked. 

You softly nodded against the soft pillows and muttered out a “Maybe” as you lifted yourself up and tried to stand up. Lando’s hand held onto your bicep just in case you needed any help. And he looked like he was ready to catch you if your knees even buckled.

Which they did, and Lando immediately wrapped his free arm around your waist, holding you up with such a force that your toes were the only thing touching the ground. 

After he just fucked you like that, he was so soft and caring. You really liked this side of him, and silently wished you could see more of it. 

Lando’s eyes searched yours with a hint of worry. But they softened when you reassured him you were fine. But he kept an arm wrapped around you as he walked the two of you towards your bathroom, where the shower had been heating up. 

He helped you step inside, and followed after you. And the two of you enjoyed a nice warm shower together, him holding around you almost the entire time, constantly worried your legs would give out.

You were softly awakening, feeling your hair being brushed behind your ear, and soft fingers tracing your face. You slowly opened your eyes to find his eyes looking back at you. 

Lando had a lovesick smile on his face. “You look so beautiful in the morning” His voice was deep and raspy.

You felt yourself blush and you lifted the covers to hide your face. 

Lando sat upright and lifted one of his hands to try and tug the cover away, “No, don’t hide” “I want to see you”

You peeked your eyes over the covers, seeing nothing but truth behind Lando’s eyes. You lowered the covers.

“Thank you baby” His smile grew, and you saw his eyes searching your face, like he was trying to count the freckles on your skin. It gave you a moment to do the same, now really noticing the moles beside his nose, and the ones scattered across his cheeks. 

You noticed his face coming closer to yours, and when you met his eyes you saw how he was looking at your lips. You sat up and met him halfway, reaching up to hold his face, dragging him back down. He threw out an arm to hold himself above you, leaning more into the kiss. 

Lando was the one to pull back, and looked at you with a glint in his eye, like he knew something you didn’t.

Before you had time to think about your words, your mouth opened. 

“Why are you so nice now?” You saw his mouth frown slightly, the sight making you wince. You wanted to take it back. 

You opened your mouth again to try and fix your mistake, but Lando was quicker. 

“I know..” “I have been thinking about it myself” He sighed and laid down beside you, and quickly glanced at you before he looked anywhere but you. 

You saw that he was struggling, regret seeping into your veins. “I’m sorry Lando, I didn’t mean it” “You don’t have to say anything” “I’m so sorry” You carefully looked at him, wanting nothing more than to smack yourself for talking before thinking. 

“No, no” “I’m just trying to collect my thoughts. I’m not that great with words” He let out an awkward chuckle. 

His eyes finally met yours again, and you could see the vulnerability behind Lando’s eyes. He smiled softly before speaking again.

“My last few seasons at McLaren were not good. The car was not working for me, and I wasn’t doing good mentally, so I really started to spiral. I made the mistake of not talking about it, and that only made it worse.” “It made me angry and resentful. Which made me lose the people close to me.” “I got so used to being like that, thinking it was the best solution. And then I made the move to Red Bull, it made it better in the sense that the car was better, I was less miserable. But It still didn’t change my attitude and anger. Thinking that if I went back to being the old me, it would hurt me.” 

“So when we slept together the first time, it made me feel so confident.” He smiled sheepishly at you.

He continued. “And when we slept together that second time, it made me feel unstoppable. And that morning, I was so comfortable around you that I didn’t even think about how I was acting. It was such a nice morning. The nicest one I’ve ever had.” You felt yourself blush.

“And after that day, it was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders, and I found happiness in everything, something I haven’t felt in a long time. It never even crossed my mind about my change in attitude, until people asked me about it.” “And when I thought about it, I just thought about you.” His eyes no longer met yours, a shyness about Lando that you had never seen.

“When I’m with you, I feel like myself again”

Lando couldn’t bear to look at you. A realization hit him about what he just told you. He just started talking about his feelings, and he had told you everything, something he didn’t think he would ever do. 

Lando felt your soft hand on the side of his face, and he felt you now laying on top of him, hugging him. You buried your face in his neck. You were speechless. Lando had said he wasn’t good with words, but that was a complete lie. 

He had confessed something to you that no one ever had. No one had ever told you that you were the reason they could feel like themselves. You didn’t really know how to feel about that. 

Lando started to feel something wet hit the sides of his neck. His eyes shot open in realization. “Are you crying?” He asked you with so much concern in his voice.

Oh shit, you got caught. You tried to carefully keep your breathing steady as you slowly shook your head. 

“Y/N, look at me please” He almost whispered.

You slowly lifted your head to look at him, and when your eyes met his, you could see the worry in them. 

His hands cradled the sides of your face, and a thumb flew out to swipe away a falling tear. 

“Why are you crying? Did I do something wrong” More worry found its way in Lando’s eyes. 

“No” You softly shook your head as you whispered. 

You lifted a hand to hold on to one of his. “No one has ever said something like that to me before” You let out a small breath before you continued.

“Thank you Lando” You sighed, a soft smile on your face.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Why are you thanking me?”

Your smile grew. “You just bared your soul to me, Lando.” “And you told me that I make you feel like yourself again.” 

“Yeah, so if anything, I should thank you, for listening to me” His thumb swiped across your cheek again. 

“Lando. You shouldn’t have to thank me for listening to you.” “I would never want to stop listening to you” 

“Please never leave me” He said it like he was actually begging you. His eyebrows furrowed.

“I wouldn’t even dream about it” You leaned in to give him a soft kiss.

And when you pulled back to look at him. You started to recognize the look in his eyes, it was like he was looking at the world. The universe. And he found that in your eyes.

Who's crying? not me! (yes I am.)

Taglist;

@laneyspaulding19 @formula1mount @chonkybonky

[at0m-b0mb-baby]

The unspoken truth

viktor x mage!reader

| part of a series, angsty in this chapter but it will get better I promise

re-uploaded

part 2: (wip)

2.5k words

The dim glow of Hextech light flickered in Viktor’s workshop, painting the room in a soft, golden hue. You leaned against a workbench piled with scattered blueprints and tools, your gaze fixed on Viktor as he moved through the space. His cane tapped against the floor in an uneven rhythm, the sound mingling with the faint hum of machinery.

It was always mesmerizing to watch him work. His hands were steady and precise, moving with an almost mechanical efficiency. But tonight, something was different.

He seemed distracted.

You noticed the way his fingers lingered too long on the edges of the device he was repairing. The subtle tension in his shoulders. The way his eyes flicked toward you every few minutes, only to dart back to his work when he caught you looking.

“Viktor?” you asked gently, breaking the silence.

He froze for a moment, his back to you. Then, he sighed and set the tool in his hand down with more care than usual. When he turned, his amber eyes met yours, and you could see the hesitation in them—a rare sight. Viktor was a man of conviction, always sure of his thoughts, his words, his actions. But now, he looked… uncertain.

“Miláček,” he said softly, his voice laced with his thick accent, though it lacked its usual confidence. “There is something I must tell you.”

The way he said it made your heart tighten. You straightened, a faint hum of wild magic stirring under your skin in response to the unease settling in your chest. “What is it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated again, his fingers curling around the head of his cane for support. “It is… difficult to say,” he admitted, his brows furrowing deeply. “But I have waited long enough. I owe you the truth.”

Your stomach churned, but you nodded, urging him to continue.

He exhaled sharply, like a man prepared to be shot. “I am dying.”

The words hit you like a physical force, stealing the breath from your lungs. For a moment, you could only stare at him, waiting for some sign that he was joking, that this was some cruel misunderstanding. But Viktor didn’t look away. He held your gaze, his expression resigned and heavy with the weight of his admission.

“No…” you breathed, shaking your head. “No… you can’t you’re not-” She couldn’t even get her words out properly a stammering and stuttering mess.

“I am.” His voice was quiet, but firm. He reached out, his hand brushing against yours. “I have known for some time. My condition… It has progressed beyond what science can repair.”

Tears stung your eyes as his words sunk in. You grabbed his hand, gripping it like he’s going to fade away, as. “Viktor,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

His gaze softened, and for the first time, you saw something you almost never saw in him—fear. “Because I did not want to burden you,” he admitted. “You are… everything to me. The thought of leaving you-” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “I could not bear with it.”

“Well, too late for that!” you snapped, though your voice cracked with emotion. “Viktor, you’re the one who’s dying, and you were worried about me? And please… please don’t call yourself a burden, you are nothing of the sort!.”

He tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into a faint, bittersweet smile. “Yes,” he said simply.

The raw honesty of his answer left you momentarily speechless.

But then, something shifted inside youaa surge of determination that burned hot and wild, like the magic in your veins. You stood straighter, letting go of his hand to wipe at your tears. “No,” you said firmly. “This isn’t over. I won’t let you just-just give up!”

His brow furrowed. “This is not something you can fix, miláček.”

“Don’t underestimate me,” you shot back. “If science can’t save you, then I’ll find something that can. Magic. I have read about ancient mages that can heal sickness. If they can do it, I can learn.”

He shook his head, his expression pained. “You cannot fix everything with magic, my love.”

“Maybe not,” you admitted. “But I can still try even if it’s the death of me.”

The next day, you ventured onward. Your path was set, even as doubt gnawed at you. If there was even the faintest hope of saving Viktor, you had to try. The thought of him—his soft voice calling you sweet names, his careful hands brushing yours in quiet moments, his unyielding determination to improve the world gave you the strength to leave. But it didn’t silence the fear that churned in your chest.

The ship was weathered and cramped, its crew brusque and disinterested in your presence. They ushered you into a small cabin that smelled of salt and mildew, barely large enough to hold the narrow bed and a rickety table pushed against the wall. The grime-streaked window offered little light, and the faint creak of the ship settling in the water was the only sound.

You dropped your bag onto the bed, your shoulders heavy. Your eyes caught on a small vase atop the table, holding what might once have been a bouquet of flowers. Their petals hung lifeless, browned and curled, the stems brittle and drooping over the rim.

Something about their frailty twisted in your chest.

You reached out, brushing a withered petal with your fingertips. It crumbled under your touch, scattering into tiny flakes.

Without thinking, your magic stirred. Purple light glimmered faintly around your hand, the energy coiling through your fingers like smoke. It flowed into the flowers, weaving through the decay and coaxing it away.

In moments, the transformation was complete. The bouquet stood tall and vibrant once more, soft pink peonies blooming as if they had just been plucked from a garden. The sight was beautiful, almost painfully so.

For a brief moment, you smiled. But the smile faltered as reality crashed back over you.

Your hand hovered above the flowers, trembling. “I can heal this,” you murmured, your voice shaking. “I can heal flowers. I can mend scratches and cuts. I can close wounds.”

The words grew louder, tumbling from your lips faster than you could stop them.

“But I can’t fix him!”

The last word broke into a sob. You stumbled back, your knees hitting the edge of the bed as your breathing hitched. Tears blurred your vision as you pressed your hands to your face.

“Why? Why can’t I fix him?”

The question echoed in your mind, over and over, growing louder with each repetition. Your breaths came in sharp, shallow gasps, your chest heaving as the room seemed to tilt and blur around you.

Your magic flared uncontrollably, sparking from your fingers and racing through the air like wild lightning. The ship groaned beneath you, the wood trembling as though responding to your anguish. The table rattled, its legs scraping against the floor, and the window shattered outward with a deafening crash.

“Stop,” you whispered, clutching your head as the sound of your own voice became too much. “Stop. Stop. Stop!”

But it wouldn’t stop. The pressure in your chest built until it felt like you couldn’t breathe, the air clawing at your lungs but refusing to fill them. Your hands trembled violently, and your magic surged, making the room ripple with an unnatural hum.

“I can’t, I-….” you choked out, the words barely audible. “I can’t do this!”

Your breath came in short, desperate gasps, each one cutting through you like a knife. The pounding of your heartbeat filled your ears, drowning out the creaks and groans of the ship.

You curled into yourself, pulling your knees to your chest and pressing your forehead against them. “Please,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure who you were begging—yourself, the universe, or some unknown force that might be listening. “Please, just let me breathe.”

The ship rocked violently beneath you, the waves slamming against its hull as if matching the storm inside you.

And then, finally, it stopped.

Your magic fizzled out, the purple light dissipating into nothingness. The shaking ceased, leaving the room eerily still. Shards of glass glittered on the floor, reflecting the dim light from the broken window.

You forced yourself to breathe—slow, measured breaths that felt like they scraped against raw wounds. The air was too thick, too heavy, but you forced it into your lungs anyway.

Tears still streamed down your face as you stared at the shattered window, the bouquet of flowers untouched amidst the wreckage.

“What good is this magic?” you whispered hoarsely, your voice shaking. “What good is it if I can’t save him?”

The words echoed in the silence, their weight sinking into your chest.

You crawled into the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself into a fetal position as the exhaustion of the day finally caught up with you. The sound of the waves outside lulled you into an uneasy sleep, but even in your dreams, the pain of your helplessness lingered.

[nep-neptune-0]

5 AM

Xiangli Yao x Reader

Summary: You always had a habit of staying overnight at Huaxu Academy, tinkering away at your latest project; Xiangli Yao had a habit of visiting you for new ideas at the crack of dawn.

Content: fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

a/n: immediately downloaded the game after seeing an edit of him, got him through the Moon-Chasing Festival event and now I'm writing fanfic for him, sorry if I didn't portray him correctly!! I'm new to the game lmao

A few quick knocks pulled you out of your flow. What was the time? You threw a quick glance at your clock, almost 5 a.m.. That marked the 3rd night you had spent in the workshop, tinkering on your new creation. You slid your safety goggles up to your hairline, trying to blink away the blur that had settled over your vision. You really should start using the ceiling lamp along with your workbench lamp, otherwise you’d risk deteriorating your vision.   

Another sequence of knocks made you scramble up from the saddle stool, reminding you why you stopped your project in the first place. You were at the other side of the room at lightning speed. Your workshop was small, only enough to fit one relatively big table in the middle with a smaller one rammed up at the corner, decked out with tools and machines from your personal collection. The academy was generous enough to lend you various equipment, one of them being a large robotic arm with different functions that was attached to the bigger table, but you didn’t dare to use it unless it was for “serious work” as you liked to call it. 

The door wailed when you pulled it open. You really should oil it like how Xiangli Yao had suggested–

“Hello.”

Oh. 

Speak of the devil. It was always around this time he clocked into work. It was also around this time he visited your workshop, never failing to bring you breakfast, knowing you were more often than not neglecting your needs in pursuit of finishing your latest project. 

Xiangli Yao had crashed into your life just as violently as your prototype had when it hit an unsuspected Spearback. You didn’t think anyone would catch you in the midst of your experiments, since you made sure to do it in the dead of night far, far away from the city. But he had, and he was kind enough to escort you back to the academy, buying you breakfast before that. He had asked you about your creations, and without really thinking you started talking about your passion for battle focused tools and gushed over previous projects like they were your children. Afterwards, you had thought it was the first and last time you would have any kind of interaction with the Principal Investigator, but before you knew it, he was outside your workshop, asking you if you were down to discuss ideas for the next modification on his prosthetic arm. 

If you had thought a bit further, you probably would have questioned why he went to you specifically, a rookie, when there were an abundance of talented engineers and mechanics alike who could bring his ideas to life much more efficiently and with better quality. But you were too wrapped up in the excitement of creating something new you had ushered him inside, grabbing the only available chair that wasn’t on its last legs for him to sit on while you grabbed your notebook, eyes gleaming. 

The added mod had been a success after shedding blood, sweat, and tears day and night. You got to witness it with your own eyes when he asked you to head out with him at the first sign of light. The sunlight had painted him golden, and suddenly you weren’t as focused on his prosthetic as much. His movements had you entranced, not even daring to breathe in case it would disturb the vision in front of you. And that damn smile he directed towards you after defeating the enemy fully stole your breath away. Xiangli Yao was an unfair man.

As thanks, he had gifted you a saddle stool made of leather for your posture (though you still hunched over the desk like a shrimp) and for the fact your previous chair was merely a wooden one that would disintegrate at any given moment. You thought that would be it, but of course he defied your expectations and showed up a few weeks later, breakfast in hand with another idea. From then on he seemed to be keen on consulting you about potential modifications, ranging from battle focused ones to the more silly ones, like his ice maker that you had the honor to partake in creating. And before you knew it, he started spending some rare days in your workshop instead of his office, typing away and doing what scholars do while you were working on all different kinds of projects.

You had to admit you had developed a soft spot for the Principal Investigator during the times you spent together. You could never pinpoint when his visits started feeling like a part of your routine, or when you started looking forward to those moments. And somewhere along the way, you stayed behind just to catch him before you headed home, something you’d never admit to anyone or anything.

“I saw your light was on, so I thought to swing by before going to my office. I bought some Huanglong omelets–” he handed you a paper bag “–I also have an idea for a modification we could add to my prosthetic.”

That spurred you to pull out papers and different colors of pens, spreading them out on the bigger table before turning the ceiling lamp on. He had already started sketching before you even got an omelet in your mouth. 

You seated yourself on your chair and rolled to the other side of the table, eyes tracking every swipe of his hand to see the idea bloom on paper. His newest idea was battle oriented. Specifically some kind of tool that could give him the opportunity to snare and damage multiple opponents at once. You weren’t sure what went on in his head for such brilliant ideas to form, but you thanked the dragons out there for letting you witness it so intimately.

As he was sketching, he described his thought process, pausing sometimes to glance up at you for feedback, but you were busy stuffing your cheeks with omelet, barely able to sound out coherent sentences. 

Before long you had finished your breakfast, energized and ready to give some ideas yourself. You bounced ideas between each other. 

“For this,” Xiangli Yao circled one of his scribbles, “we can add a tool akin to a black hole that will detonate on the enemy I defeated, gathering the rest of them in one place while I’m charging up for an attack. I have an idea on what material we can use…”

You were absolutely starstruck.

“Xiangli Yao, the man you are.” You climbed on the table, crawling a short distance to get closer to him before rising to your knees and cupping his face in your hands, slightly shaking his head back and forth. “I’m sure you’ve heard this more than enough– but you are a genius.” 

A faint hue of pink dusted over his cheeks, and it was only then you realized how close you were to him. 

“Oh!” you exclaimed. “Sorry I got carried away–”

Your panic was interrupted by the chill of his metal hand settling over yours. He looked up at you with such puppy eyes that were swirling with an indescribable emotion you wondered how you never noticed. 

Before you knew it, his other hand settled on the back of your head, and you were pulled down. 

His lips were soft. 

The sheer gentleness he treated you with sent electricity crackling in your veins. Your eyes fell shut and you could hear your heart beating in your ears. Your free hand slid down to the back of his neck, fingertips lightly brushing against the hair before it found a place on his shoulder, and you didn’t miss the way he quivered under your touch. 

Xiangli Yao parted with a sigh, eyes fluttering open to unabashedly stare at your face. He intertwined your hands, cool metal palm against the back of your warm hand, and raised it to his lips. Then he pecked your cheek, your forehead, your eyelids, before finally giving you another delicate kiss on your lips. 

“Can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner,” he murmured when he pulled away. You exhaled a laugh.

“I can’t believe it either– oh shit!” You quickly clambered off the table with his help. “I hope I didn’t ruin any of the sketches…”  

“Even if you did, we can just remake them,”  he declared nonchalantly. “Honestly, I would gladly let you ruin my research papers if I get to take you out on a date.”

“You don’t mean that!” you gasped. “You can do that without ruining your work.”

He smiled. “I wasn’t planning on it, don't worry. I’m gonna head to my office now. Just give me a call if you have any other ideas.”

“Will do, will do.”

“I’ll come pick you up at 6 pm today.” He gave you a quick kiss before making his way to the door. “See you then.”  

You were left a blushing mess in your workshop, now a new project and a date in your hands. 

Xiangli Yao was truly an unfair man.

[k9wa]

⟁ SENSITIVE ft. BOOTHILL.

⠀ — “you get all excited for me to fix you up and call you a good boy.”

⠀ OR

⠀ — a sensitive spot during a repair leaves him melting into your callused little hands.

⚠︎ mechanic!reader, so much flirting im kind of sick, he whimpers i have an agenda, this is like 90% dialogue sorry, he wants u sooo bad. wc 1k, from this req.

“y’know darlin,” boothill managed to breathe out through a taut jaw and clenched teeth. “you bein’ this close ain’t exactly helpin’ me focus none.”

your fingers were slow, careful, precise as they pushed a few tiny wires apart, giving view deeper inside the little panel on boothill’s throat.

the position you two stood in was one all too familiar, boothill perched on your workbench with you between his thighs— the only new variables being your face way closer than he’s used to and your fingers proding around in his surprisingly sensitive wires.

it was an…odd sensation, to say the least. a small unpleasant stinging that simultaneously stimulated a rather pleasant shiver up his back with every small poke.

“time and place, cowboy.”

you responded quietly, tone a little flat with your tease from concentration.

“can’t help lettin’ my mind— wander, can i now?” his breath hitched a bit as you nicked a particularly touchy wire.

“if you let me finish this,” you lifted your head enough to meet his eyes, free hand gently smoothing out the crease in his brow. “i’ll let you show me just how wild your imagination can get.”

boothill bit back a scruff chuckle at that. 

“that enough incentive for you to sit still?”

“well, i reckon that’s plent— mmgh!”

a pair of mechanical hands tightly grab onto your hips as his shoulders tense, a knee-jerk result of your tweezers finding the out of place wire you’d been looking around for.

your hands paused, opting to ignore the way he audibly whimpered for raising your gaze a second time to check on him.

“you hangin’ in there?”

boothill’s fingers flexed as they held onto you, relaxing from squeezing your pants to a more gentle cradle of your hips.

“you know,” he swallowed thickly— as if his throat could even dry out, likely just a natural reflex— “you got a way of makin’ fixin’ me up feel real special.”

the slight waver to his voice isn’t lost on your ears— it was quite loud in them, actually.

“i’m hangin’ in fine, don’t worry your pretty head none.”

carefully retracting your tweezers, you stood up straight enough to lightly push his hat up, giving view to his face and cupping your hand over a blue-hued cheek.

“wanna take a break?” 

he nearly had to clutch his chest with the gentle concern that laced your tone.

boothill knew he was flushed, was purposefully avoiding looking you in the eye because a few pokes to some sensitive spots had him sliding his hands to your waist like a lifeline— not that what he could distantly feel of your skin against the synthesised nerves of his palms weren’t doing much to cool him off anyway. but he did…relax, somewhat. 

he always enjoyed when you’d touch his face, getting to feel all the unique little details of you; the gentle drum of your pulse and the little calluses from your tools. it somehow always manages to make the tension in his body ebb away, draining with an exhale that lightly fans against your wrist.

he shook his head with a quiet clear of his throat— another unnecessary function that served more as a tick than anything.

“nah, nah i’m alright.” he assured. it didn’t make him any less embarrassed to be having such a reaction. 

big bad criminal until you get a little too fudgin’ touchy, apparently.

“let’s just get this finished up, yeah? maybe we can move onto somethin’ more pleasant.”

your thumb gave two gentle taps to his cheekbone before it pulled away, reaching for your tweezers for the nth time.

“that’s my boy.”

oh how boothill’s chest bloomed at the simple praise, the endearing ‘my’ that slipped in with it licking up his ribs and curling to rest along where a drumming heart should have been.

“jus’ be gentle with me, will ya sugar plum?”

“you know i've always got ya.”

each plug or untangle of a little yellow or red cable had his systems humming, fingers occasionally curling into your hips every time a little surge left him biting his cheek a little harder.

“we’re almost done,” your voice is icing on an already cavity-inducing cake, though he’ll gladly take a toothache if it’s for you. “just a little longer.”

boothill was going fist to fist and losing with the urge to completely melt under your deft fingers.

“…keep talkin’ to me,” he requested with a murmurmurmur, cautious not to move too much. “helps me stay on t—” he had to bite back another whimper, cheek going between his teeth and eyes going to the ceiling. “—task.”

boothill didn’t miss the little tug of your lips.

“you know, you do this thing when you get shy.” you mused quietly, breath meeting the shell of his ear. “you bite your cheek ‘n look away. it’s cute.”

boothill couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle at your deduction. he tried to regain some of his composure, though the colour in his cheeks continued to betray him.

“i don’t know ‘bout shy,” he rumbled, keeping his voice steady as he could. “but i’ll take cute if it means i get to hear you keep sweet talkin’ me. keep this up and i might start enjoyin’ these repairs a lil too much.”

his voice was a little strained, though still held his usual humour.

“like you don’t love em already.” you teased back, gently closing the panel on his neck as it re-sealed with a small hiss. “you get all excited for me to fix you up, call you a good boy and send you on your merry way.”

“i’m still waitin’ on that last bit, y’know?”

you shook your head, popping his hat off his head and placing it on your own.

“good boy,” you pinched his cheek endearingly. “you’re all done. do you want a lolipop too?”

“think i deserve somethin’ a lil sweeter than a lolipop, don’t you sugar?” boothill’s face unknowingly deepens at the sight of you in his hat, brave words betrayed by a nervous tap in his finger and more blue to the apples of his cheeks.

“we’ll save it for when you’ve got a real booboo,” you took his hat off, using the brim to lightly tilt his chin up and give him a tender kiss on the cheek. for such a heavy hunk of metal, he nearly began to float.

“but there’s something to hold your sweet tooth for now.”

…

“boothill?”

“y..yeah, sweet pea?”

“you’re overheating.”

⠀ MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

[trulyumai]

the lonely cabin isn’t what it seems

— Pairing: Young!Stanford Pines / Reader

—Synopsis: Lost and confused, a woman spots her lifeline; a seemingly desolate and empty cabin. She meets Ford, pleads for his help and shelter only to find things aren’t as they seem. As the scientist starts to fall deeper and deeper for the woman, he realizes they aren’t alone. He’s watching.

Warnings: none so far!

A/N: I finally got to watch Gravity falls and noticed this was a requested character, enjoy this new series!

Part One: The Unexpected Guest

Stanford Pines had always loved the isolation of his cabin, surrounded by nature’s beauty. But tonight, as the wind howled outside, he found himself feeling a strange pang of loneliness.

He was deep in thought, hunched over his cluttered workbench, examining an intricate device he had been tinkering with for weeks. The cabin was filled with books, gadgets, and the faint smell of pine. Stanford often lost track of time here, but tonight felt different; he could sense a storm brewing outside.

Just as he was about to put his tools down for the evening, a loud knock echoed through the stillness. Startled, he pushed away from his workbench, his heart racing. Who would be out here in this weather?

He opened the door cautiously, revealing a figure shivering on his doorstep. She was soaked to the bone, her hair plastered to her face, and her eyes wide with fear.

“Uh, can I help you?” Ford asked, his voice a mix of surprise and caution.

“Please, I’m lost,” she said, her voice trembling. “I saw your cabin from the trail, and I just need somewhere to stay until the storm passes.”

Ford hesitated. He was used to solitude, preferring the company of books and experiments over people. “I don’t usually take in strangers,” he replied, trying to keep his tone firm.

The woman looked up at him, and he caught her gaze. There was a vulnerability in her eyes that tugged at something inside him. She was cute, even with her disheveled appearance, and the thought of turning her away made his heart ache.

“Please,” she whispered, shivering violently. “I’ll just stay for a little while. I promise I won’t be any trouble.”

With a heavy sigh, Ford stepped aside. “Fine. Come in.”

As she entered, he noticed her apprehensive demeanor. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to regain warmth. Ford quickly closed the door behind her, the howling wind now a muffled roar.

“you can um, sit by the fire,” he said, gesturing toward the small hearth where flames flickered, casting a warm glow across the room. “I’ll get you a towel.”

While he rummaged through a closet, he could feel her gaze following him. He handed her the towel, avoiding her eyes. “You should dry off.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, smiling as she took the towel. There was something endearing about her shy demeanor, and it made him feel a little flustered.

After a few minutes, the two settled into an awkward silence, the only sound being the crackling fire. Ford couldn’t help but steal glances at her. She was smaller than him, with a kind face, and he noticed the way her eyes sparkled when she looked around the room, taking in his chaotic yet fascinating workspace.

“What do you do here?” she asked, breaking the silence. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I’m a scientist,” he replied, his voice a bit more relaxed. “Researching the anomalies in this area.”

“Anomalies?” Her interest piqued, and he felt a rush of excitement.

“Yeah, strange occurrences, supernatural phenomena,” he said, the words flowing more easily now. “You’d be surprised what’s out there in these woods.”

Her eyes lit up, and he could see her mind racing. “Like what?”

He leaned back in his chair, his passion igniting. “Well, there’s a portal to another dimension not far from here. I’ve seen creatures that defy the laws of physics. It’s fascinating.”

“Really?” she whispered, captivated. “You must have so many incredible stories.”

He chuckled, surprised by her enthusiasm. “You could say that. Most people don’t believe me, though.”

“Why not?” she asked, genuinely curious.

Ford shrugged, feeling a mix of pride and frustration. “People tend to fear what they don’t understand. It’s easier to dismiss it as nonsense.”

“I think it’s amazing,” she said earnestly. “You’re like a real-life scientist. It’s inspiring.”

Her compliment caught him off guard, and he felt a warmth rising to his cheeks. “It’s nothing special,” he mumbled, looking away.

The storm raged outside, but inside, the atmosphere shifted. They began to exchange stories—she shared tales of her life, her shy nature making her adventures sound all the more charming. Ford found himself laughing more than he had in a long time.

As the hours passed, Ford felt a connection growing between them, an unspoken bond. The way she listened, her wide eyes fixed on him as he spoke, made him feel seen in a way he hadn’t experienced in years.

“Why do you live out here all alone?” she asked, her tone softening.

“It’s… complicated,” he replied, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice. “I needed a place to think, away from the chaos of the world.”

“You don’t have to be alone, you know,” she said gently. “I’m sure there are people who would love to be around you.”

Ford looked at her, taken aback by her sincerity. “I appreciate that, but people can be difficult. I’m not exactly the most social person.”

“But you’re so interesting,” she insisted. “You have all these incredible ideas and stories. I want to hear more.”

He chuckled nervously, feeling his heart race. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely,” she replied, her eyes sparkling. “I mean it.”

In that moment, he realized how much he had come to appreciate her presence. She had a way of making him feel alive, as if the walls he had built around himself were slowly crumbling.

As the fire crackled and the storm raged outside, Ford found himself wanting to share more of himself with her, to let her in. It felt terrifying yet exhilarating.

“Can I show you something?” he asked suddenly, his heart pounding.

“Sure!” she replied, her excitement palpable.

He led her to his workshop, a room filled with strange inventions and diagrams scattered across the walls. “This is where I do most of my work,” he said, feeling a mix of pride and anxiety.

“Wow!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder. “This is incredible!”

Ford couldn’t help but smile as she inspected his gadgets. “I’ve been working on a new device that could help understand the anomalies better,” he said, gesturing to a complex machine. “It’s still a work in progress, though.”

She leaned closer, studying the intricate details. “It’s so fascinating how your mind works,” she said, glancing up at him with admiration. “I can’t believe you built all of this.”

Her words sent a thrill through him. “Thank you,” he said, feeling a warmth in his chest. “I’ve always loved solving problems, figuring things out.”

“I can see that,” she said, stepping closer. “You’re like a genius.”

Ford laughed, but he felt a blush creeping up his neck. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“But you are,” she insisted, her eyes sincere. “You have this passion that’s just… captivating.”

He felt a rush of warmth at her words, his heart racing as their gazes locked. The air between them thickened with an unspoken tension, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she felt it too.

“Um, I—” he started, but the words caught in his throat.

Before he could continue, she reached out and touched his arm gently, grounding him. “Thank you for taking me in… I know how bothersome it might be but I really appreciate it.” She smiled, light and honest.

The sincerity in her voice struck him deeply. He could feel the walls he had built around his heart starting to crumble. “It’s nothing,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

As the storm howled outside, the warmth of the cabin enveloped them, and in that moment, Stanford Pines realized that perhaps shelter wasn’t just about finding refuge from the storm; it was about letting someone in.

And as they stood there, surrounded by the warmth of the fire and the brilliance of each other’s presence, he felt the unmistakable spark of something new beginning to bloom between them—a connection that promised to change his world forever.

[oncewhenalongtimeago]

would love to request a "friends to lovers" story between Hiccup and the reader.

They could have been friends since childhood, but I’m not sure what you think about the idea where, as they grow up, it becomes completely normal for them to hold hands or even share more intimate moments, like a kiss. (Don’t let it show how much I love this dynamic).

I’d love to see how you would develop this story (only if you feel like it, of course). I seriously ADORE your writing! Blessings and kisses, MUAK! ❤💗

One of These Days

Pairing: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Fem!Reader

Words: 3,740

You didn’t know when it started; maybe it had been when he’d smiled at you for the first time, or he’d held your hand, or leaned his head over yours. 

Tags:  httyd 1, httyd 2, friends to lovers

It was growing darker outside. 

Frigid air licked at the frame of your back, slithering and scraping past cracks in the walls and shutters. It tasted just as cool as it smelt.

You didn’t know when it started, nor were you sure how to feel about it, what with that odd thing sitting between the two of you. You could tell he expected something, what with the way he often shuffled closer than was necessary and fumbled over his own words in an effort to impress.

“Pass me the hammer?” He asked you without looking, lanky shoulders square, hands pressed against parchment, fingers sliding absentmindedly over scrawled-out charcoal and past thick-handled tools.

You snuffled, blinking from where you sat just beside him.

It was just to the right of you on one slightly uneven workbench, closer to the forge’s main window than away. You grabbed at it with slightly wobbly fingers, grimacing as it nearly fell from your hands.

At twelve winters, you still had some time left before you’d really be expected to bloody your hands, and by bloody your hands, you meant to be able to take down a full-grown dragon on your own.’ Of course, most children by now had done their fair share of slaughtering, both animals and otherwise, but none had been able to make it during a raid without help. While you hadn’t done any of it, putting you sorely behind, you were still fine.

For Hiccup, son of Stoick the Vast, feared dragon-killer, the deadlines were a little bit tighter.

You placed the hammer firmly, determinedly into Hiccup’s open palm, the tips of your fingers dragging against slightly sweaty skin.

Gobber had been generous enough to let you in. He didn’t often or ever stop the two of you from doing things. Even still, this was the first time you’d been invited into the forge, and he hadn’t said anything.

Hiccup had also been generous enough to invite you in. You hadn’t quite recognized the invitation for what it was, nor did you think Hiccup did, either. Really, the experience was proving to be rather close. It was the first time you’d ever seen him so enraptured in his work, though, to be fair, you hadn’t known him for long. He’d hardly talked about it.

You doubted he’d told anyone else- it was going to be a larger machine. He definitely didn’t have everything he needed to make it. Not the wood, which would make up a frame large enough to swarf half your body, or all the metals and ores he’d need to make all the levers and rods.

He wasn’t wearing any fur coat, just an apron and his green tunic. He scribbled notes down like the world might be swallowed if he didn’t. You could tell he’d never done that before- made such detailed instructions, thought up such an elaborate contraction.

You liked him happy. You’d seen him frustrated and you thought that was alright too, puzzling over his own work, tongue peeking out slightly from between two teeth, not comically. It was more a subtle, awkward thing.

With his back to you, he worked with a dedicated, single-minded focus, almost tireless. He worked from the moment he sat down to the moment he finished his task with a passion usually only meant for the battlefield, spotted in the eyes of the hungry past floating ashes and spraying gore. It was a passion that said that nothing had ever come natural to him.

He taught himself how to try.

You thought that he must be daring, more than any Viking warrior.

Maybe he wasn’t yet a man, but you could see the shadow of the man he would be-mature, confident, skilled, focused. The way he worked in the forge- his need to shoot down a dragon paled in comparison.

You wondered if anyone else would ever get to see him the way you did, red-and-orange firelight warming his cheeks.

He caught you looking and he smiled, something almost half-toothless and completely crooked, revealing brown-auburn hair made to glow in the light of the fires, spotted gaps in rows of teeth, freckles dusting over a nose’s bridge like speckles on bird’s feathers.

He spoke almost hesitantly, confusedly, as if he’d just realized he’d forgotten to respond, and hadn’t realized it was that important, or that you would have been expecting it, though that didn’t matter to you, because he’d hardly needed to, “Thanks.”

Even unsure, he was much more at home here than out in the open world.

You felt your head perk, shoulders dropping as a soft, gawky thing curled and writhed bashfully in your stomach, not unlike the way a worm reveled in soft, blooming dirt.

Wow.

It hadn’t occurred to you that during all of a fortnight, you hadn’t seen him smile. Now that you’d seen it, you weren’t sure how you’d ever lived without it. 

You thought you could feel the heat radiating from his body as you shuffled closer to him, your fingers curling around his bicep, slightly damp through thick cloth. Your legs were nearly brushing then, leather smock teasing against cloth trouser as you pondered what it might feel like to be handed back soft, honeyed flowers by those very same sooted hands.

You shifted, the grass beneath you wet, dew clinging to the sides of your skirt like a few shiny glass beads. You felt the warm sun against your face, tickling against small hairs and soft skin. Your journal was to your front, scratched up leather cover pressed to your hands, a charcoal stick laying abandoned across empty parchment.

Nearby was a trickling stream, water weaving past water, spraying hollowly against rocks and moss- you could have likened it to yourself and the feeling in your soul, knotting up your chest and mixing up all kinds of squishy insides.

The last you’d seen, Hiccup had been walking. Now, he was nearly falling over himself, legs jerking as his saddle’s straps and reins restricted the movement of his ankles. His shouts echoed around the whole cove, sound bouncing off cold, stone-basin walls.

His dragon slunk off in the distance, still apprehensive and avoidant. It hadn’t quite gotten used to you yet, which was fine, because you were alright with keeping your distance.

Even after you’d had your hand on its slightly-sticky snout, whenever you saw it, you thought of wide, razor-sharp maws and torsos torn from small bodies. A dragon was always going to be a dragon and they were very much deadly creatures- his reassurances of the fact that the Night Fury was just as harmless as any man did you no favors. After all, the only creatures as deadly as a dragon were, in fact, bears… and men. It made you nervous.

It had large, slitted serpent’s eyes, though its scales were flatter and its skin more leathery than warted or slimy as you’d expected from such a fearsome beast. Its face was oddly symmetrical and squat in an abhorrently off-putting way, its horns or fins or whatever else that came sproutings from its skull sort of floppy and bashful and sort of too-big and not-grown-into-yet, just like it’s bulky, soft-looking paws, sort of like Hiccup.

“T-Toothless!” Hiccup practically yowled, distressed and scolding as he fell over, face-planting into dirt and short grass, half helped-along by the wet nose of his dragon. The difference- you felt almost enraptured by it.

He was awful and very often sort of standoffish and sarcastic though not often crude. He was picky and sort of insensitive and he often trampled over boundaries like he was dancing hand-in-hand with trouble, except he didn’t know how to dance, and the hall’s fires hadn’t been lit in a while- not for a celebration, at the very least. 

In that moment, though, you remembered the way it felt to have his folded knuckle digging slightly into your shoulders as he nudged against you distractedly,  just out of view behind the wooden barricade as he was scolded by Gobber. There was something about it that you thought might be either meaningful or accidental that turned over something in your stomach, most particularly because -and not in spite of- the fact that it had come from such a scrawny, lanky, often very, very clumsy-footed boy. 

The way he’d seemed, looking off reminded you of his father a little bit. You saw it, really- all the good and awful parts of the Chief that he’d most definitely inherited, even when most others couldn’t see it. You were scared of it somewhat; of how confident it made him, how distracted and sort of brave-like he could be, even if it only ever ended up making things work for the worst.

Past all your yearning, aching, wanting, and needing-to-have-ings, it scared you just as much as you thought you could watch forever. Did he ever feel the same way about you?

You hadn’t noticed as Hiccup had untangled himself from his trappings. He must have though, and quickly, as during the time you’d spent thinking, he’d walked up close enough to you to cast a long shadow over your face, pulling you out of your own reverie. 

You blinked aimlessly as he settled down next to you. You spoke hesitantly, “So, uhm, how did the saddle…?”

“He didn’t let me put it on.” Hiccup grumbled petulantly. While nothing more or less than sort of scrawny, with the way you were slumping and the way he was sitting with his back straight, he looked sort of tall. It did nothing to erase the pout from his face or the nasal from his voice.

You started, squeaking as his dragon -for the dragon was most definitely his, now- stepped out from the shadows, melded to its back like a fresh set of armor as it stalked its way around the clearing, eternally predatory. 

Hiccup seemed to relax some as you leaned against him, sort of using his shoulder as a shield, scooting behind it as the Night Fury grew closer. You felt particularly offended, even as he let you drape his arm over your middle, leaving his hand dangling awkwardly in the air. Protect me!

“Wow. What did I do?” Hiccup asked, half-smiling, shifting where he sat, unintentionally pressing your shoulder into slightly jagged rock as he got comfortable.

Sometimes you caught him looking, eyes agonizingly blank though the rest of his expression looked to be somewhat soft, the corners of his mouth pressing into a sweeter-looking half-smile. 

You grumbled incomprehensibly as you felt yourself once again eclipsed by shadow, much bigger this time. 

You leaned harder against his shoulder, one hand coming to tangle in his sleeve. You eyed it apprehensively, feeling thin twine catch against the place nail met skin. He didn’t get it.

“Don’t leave me behind.” You said suddenly, abruptly. “Ever.”

Hiccup rubbed the back of his head with his free hand, freckles and thin fingers easily losing themselves under the mop of your hair.

“I-ah, yeah, okay.” Hiccup said, brows crinkled, slight confusion evident in his voice, though it didn’t seem any less calm or comfortable for it. He especially didn’t seem to mind as you clung closer to him, something in his face glowing a blotchy, raw pink. “Alright.”

You were in danger. Really, if enjoyment was all he could bother to feel for your predicament, then you took back all of your praises.

You scoffed miffed-ly at a brown, quirked, knowing brow. The devil- He was such a boy. 

It didn’t matter what configuration of the face you had or your height or size of hair color. That wasn’t what he thought of when he thought of you, at least not at first. 

He looked back at you, sitting in the grass, leaning behind him and he couldn’t help but to think about how pretty your smile was, the way the sun lay over the side of your face and made you look as if you were glowing. Something in his neck twinged as he did, probably sprung or pulled earlier while he was trying to wrestle the saddle onto Toothless.

You were smart- a lot smarter than him on a lot of fronts, though he was pretty ingenious on his own, something anyone, even you, was hard-pressed to match.

Now, he realized, you were just as squirrely as you were cynical.

He’d never really thought of you as someone that needed shielding. You were just as capable and incapable as him in equal measure… mostly. But  in that moment, the realization came to him that maybe you… wanted to be?

He looked at you as you muttered something foul under your breath, feeling the same way he did trying to figure out a puzzle and the same way he felt piecing axles, barrels, ropes and wheels together to make up something interesting.

There really wasn’t much else to it, was there?

Really, if that was what you wanted, Hiccup was anyone but the right man for the job, but, well, if you wanted him… Hiccup winced as you dug your nails into his arm, leaving what was probably a deep set of crescent-shaped imprints in his arm, even through his tunic.

Yeah, he still wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

“It’s cold,” You mumbled absentmindedly, eyes shutting some as a breeze brushed over your cheeks and past your ears. 

You were right. It was chilly, of course, so high up in the watchtower. It was only your second time up there.

“Yeah…” Hiccup said, leaning closer to the fire.

The two of you bumped shoulders, using a spare piece of kindling like a chair. Your ankles were hooked together, tied like a knot in a rope. The sides of your legs were so closely pressed together that they were nearly flush, despite the fact that no one else was there besides the two of you, everyone else having long since packed up their things and left. He wasn’t sure what they’d talked about. He couldn’t remember.

Hiccup kept his eyes exactly where he shouldn’t, watching you.

Your eyes were half-lidded. You leaned over your knees more than not as you turned over a small, split spit, a chunk of lamb speared over one end, his fur coat draped over your shoulders, one hand clutching at the opposite, empty sleeve. You looked very pretty like that, contented.

“They’ve got to add some walls up here, you know,” You said, your head tilting upwards as you examined a particularly soft bit of meat, thumb sliding up your skewer as you tilted it slightly downwards. 

Wow. Hiccup’s eyes were half-lidded, even as he poked at the fires with a stick, nudging the ends of charred logs closer to the fire half-heartedly.

He could hold you by the waist and sway with you and touch your foreheads together and you could play-wrestle and fight in the grass but he couldn’t kiss you and tug his hands through your hair unless he was braiding it and it was driving him crazy. He didn’t want to or have to but now that he knew he could, he thought about it pretty often. He was a teenage boy and you were a teenage girl and he’d always been curious, so of course he’d considered it.

He needed to. He had for years with all the force of a child who’d just learned how to dream. It was- It was… The feeling was surprisingly moral, but no less impassioned.

“One of these days…” HIccup mumbled distractedly. 

One of these days. He thought that every morning, now.

Hiccup blinked, the two of you standing in front of each other, curling your fingers around each other, with your fingers still relaxed. It was comfortable, warm… easy. He turned it over in his head, again and again. 

The cheering of the arena was nearly deafening to his back, the sound of metal weapons crashing against cage bars grating to his ears. They wanted him, blood, the Nightmare… Astrid was waiting behind you, eyes burning holes into him with all the conflicted feelings of a lost warrior. Even past all that, it wasn’t hard, he found, to focus on you; the lines of your face, the soft and hard curves, each and every blemish and soft patch of skin.

Huh. He thought.

He leaned forward and pressed his face against your bowed head, your forehead touching his shoulder dully past thick brown furs. He felt the split of your hairline against the tip of his nose. His eyes were closed tightly shut.

He reveled in the feeling for the moment, taking in the way your hair felt against his cheeks and the way the leftover grasses and burnt wood and juniper left a scent that laid thick over your scalp, both dusty and spiced, a lot like pine.

Ultimately, he was doing this for Toothless, but now, today, he thought that he might be doing it a little for you, too.

The whistling of Toothless' -no, the Fury’s- wings nearly stunned him, loud enough to make it more difficult to think.

Hiccup nearly choked on wind as he gripped onto the handles he’d built into Toothless’ saddle. For a moment, he thought they wouldn’t hold. After all, one small strap of leather was nearly nothing against the full force of the Gods’ cursed offspring.

They had never gone this fast before, his body felt hollow, both as if he was being nailed to the back of his dragon and as if he might just float off at any moment. The feeling It made him cautious just as much as he was focused.

Even past all of that, the space to his back felt abhorrently empty, and not just because of the way they pierced through the sky. Your tears staining the back of his shirt as he and Toothless dived and shot… He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen you cry before. He still hadn’t- it was silent for the most part, and he’d just felt it, really. If he ever had, it hadn’t been like this.

He couldn’t bring you up with him. He couldn’t. Just as he’d almost died in the ring, you had too.

It wasn’t merely a roar, more of a phenomenon, something that shook even the air around him. It was all-consuming and nearly inescapable. The Queen had followed.

Hiccup furrowed his brows and kept urging his dragon upwards.

Rain beat heavily against the roof of the Chief’s hut, making the world around you feel even more cold, weak and hollow. Thunder roared violently outside as the storm raged on.

“Hiccup,” You choked on air and spit and half a sob as you stared down at a sickly, freckled face, sweat running down both too-pale and blotchy red cheeks, staining his shirt dark. Freshly-changed bandages bled a deep crimson, changing with the color of hot blood and foul puss as his knees, one foot-less and the other not, jerked reflexively against the sheets of his blanket.

He’d been consistently out between long bouts of delirium and fever, his eyes rolling beneath his lids, just barely visible under the flickering light of a single, dying candle, twitching viciously. You clutched at Hiccup’s slick palm with both hands as he fitfully fought his way past conscious dreams.

You’d stayed- you’d stayed all night and day.

If dedication had ever really meant anything, if worship and hope and work had ever really meant a damn, if the Gods had ever been real and if their decree had ever meant anything, you hoped your will reached the heavens.

“Lass,” The Chief rumbled deeply from behind you, his heavy weight causing old floorboards to creak deeply as he shifted. 

You didn’t even have the energy to shake off the nearly unbearable heat of his father’s palm on your shoulder as you cried yourself nearly sick with tears and snot and spit gathering at every orifice. It was an ugly cry, an undignified, ungainly one, followed with all your fears and hopes and despairs.

You had your own injuries to tend to, yet you felt as if you couldn’t, not in that moment, not even if it meant that you’d have to be fighting off your own pains and fevers later, if you hadn’t already fallen under their grasp. The only thing you could do was watch and feel a need for Hiccup to be okay so deep it rendered you helpless. Ultimately, though, you knew his recovery had nothing to do with you.  

Hiccup’s dragon had left to cauterwal outside, to wail and wreak havoc and feast on the latest fisherman’s catch. He seemed less worried than you and the Chief but more worried than everyone else, and rightly so.

Suddenly, you started.

With a voice both intensely raspy and wet, Hiccup mumbled your name. It hadn’t been anything special, more a simple expression of his recognition, yet you sniveled as Hiccup clutched back at your hand, his grip weak compared to yours, his eyes dull with the force of his fever. For a very long moment, he held it.

“Hiccup.” You tried again.

The Chief’s hand tightened over your shoulder, squeezing already stiff and sore muscles.

The last time you’d seen his eyes, he’d been staring you in the face, mouth opening and closing pointedly and yet no words had come out. He’d dropped you then, right before rushing up into the sky on Toothless’ back.

Parts of you had been pinned by the rubble after and you had nearly been left behind. You could barely think past the pain, yet you still remembered how it felt to be left on the ground, hands clutched to your chest, mind completely fogged with pain and fear, hoping and hoping and hoping, cringing and in pain as the sky flashed. The terrifying outline of the dragon queen in the sky, smoke and fog larger than life, everyone certain Hiccup was going to die, himself most certainly… It seared a painful picture into your mind.

Part of you had been in danger, then. You weren’t anymore. Now, you really loved Hiccup Haddock, and you needed him to be okay.

He hoped you were safe. He didn’t know what he would do otherwise.

He couldn’t ever let you go. Never. Not until- Not unless he died, even if it hurt and his forehead felt weighted with the pressure of all the world’s fires.

[zosin-ya]

omg i love your work so much! if your free can you do a fluff scenario of kid where his s/o gives him a ton of cute magnets for his arm and he shows them off like tattoos? 🥰🥰🥰

Character: Eustass Kid Content: s/o giving him magnets for his robotic arm a.n.: I really love this idea and I do love Kid. Hope you enjoy!

Kid was engrossed in his workshop as usual, tinkering away at the scattered items on his cluttered table. Screws, metal scraps, and tools lay in disarray, which he periodically shoved from left to right to create a bit of workspace. Despite the apparent chaos, he had his own unique organizational system, that made sense, only to him. Occasionally, you could hear him mutter curses under his breath, as you watched him from the doorway quietly.

His massive form sat at a well-worn workbench, which had clearly seen better days. The wood bore scratches, burn marks, and a missing corner—hastily patched with a piece of metal Kid had slammed against it. After all, it was a workbench, meant to look used, or so he told himself.

The small light aimed at the bench exaggerated his already bulky form. His foot tapped to the rhythm of the music playing in the background as he continued to tinker. He was so absorbed in his work that he didn’t notice your approach.

With your hands in your pockets, secretly holding the little gifts you had gathered, you leaned over his shoulder to see what his calloused hands were creating. Despite their rough appearance, Kid was deft when handling delicate metal parts. You kept quiet, a small amused smile forming on your lips as you wondered how long it would take for him to notice your presence.

Your breath brushed his shoulder, causing him to pause momentarily before resuming his work. He acknowledged your presence with a grunt, "What ya need?"

For Kid, that was quite polite. Anyone else would likely have faced a flying screwdriver or a loud rebuke for interrupting him. But you, you could bother him anytime. Even if he reacted this way, you knew you were welcome.

"Nothing, just curious," you answered innocently—perhaps too innocently. Kid knew you well and sensed you were up to something. He cocked his head towards you, raising an eyebrow, but before he could make a snarky comment, you pulled your hand out of your pocket and let the magnet fall onto his robotic arm. It adhered instantly.

Kid frowned, examining the small, punk-themed magnet now adorning his prosthetic. Placing his tools on the bench, he turned his metal arm for a better look. It was a small magnet, just his style.

"Where’d you get that—Hey!" You interrupted him by placing another magnet on his arm. He didn’t know you’d been collecting these during your travels. Each time you saw a fitting one, you’d buy it, waiting until you had a good collection to surprise him.

With a low hum, Kid turned towards you, still seated on his stool. This was new. He had never considered decorating his arm, which he saw as a weapon rather than a canvas for aesthetics. Your captain spread his legs, leaning back against the workbench, eyes shifting from his robotic arm to you. "What's this all about, huh?"

You stood between his legs, shrugging nonchalantly with a small smile. "It's like having tattoos. You can change them, too. Thought it was a cool idea. Do you like it?"

Kid might be rough around the edges, but he wouldn’t decline a gift from you, even the oddest one. And this? It looked kinda cool. A confident grin spread across his face as he examined the magnets. Most fit his style, though some were cuter, making his grin falter. He groaned in annoyance.

"Y/N, come on. What is this? I can't be running around like this!" He ripped off a magnet featuring a kitten with big eyes and "Anarchy" written below. Clearly, you’d picked it to tease him. Kid was about to discard it, but you snatched it back and reattached it to his arm.

"It's a gift! It’s not that bad. A real man can wear anything, right?." You taunted with a grin, pinching his cheek gently. Kid pulled his face away, rubbing the spot. You always knew what to say to him to make Kid agree. Going after his manhood usually worked. "...you're lucky I like you, Y/N."

He sighed in defeat, giving you a kiss to thank you for the magnets. He liked most of the them, even if a few were embarrassing. But they were from you, and that made them special. You’d clearly put a lot of thought into this, buying so many and especially picking out specific ones which fit his style.

Later that day, Kid kept all the magnets on his robotic arm. His crew commented, mostly positively, but when they saw the "Anarchy Kitten," they burst out laughing, knowing you’d done it on purpose. To their dismay, Kid discovered he could use the magnets as projectiles, slamming them into their faces and easily retrieving them with his power. With a smug grin, he realized the magnets were more useful than he’d thought.

Kid not only kept every magnet you bought but wore them like a badge of honor. Kitten or not, he looked sick with them.

[Click here for more Kid content!]