#droid fics

gn!reader, dog wingman, shy droid, romantic strolls, fluff, adorable connections, soft vibes, request🦋

Droid didn’t often take long walks, but with Oso tugging at his leash and the evening sun painting the sky in warm hues, he figured today was as good as any. The German Shepherd was his usual self—attentive, curious, and pulling him toward whatever caught his interest. Droid chuckled, shaking his head. “What’s the rush, buddy? I thought we agreed this was a chill walk.” But Oso wasn’t listening. His ears perked, tail wagging as he pulled harder on the leash. Droid followed, confused but trusting the dog’s instincts. “Alright, alright, where are you taking me?” Rounding a corner, Droid spotted you sitting on a bench, scrolling through your phone with a relaxed smile. Oso’s excitement intensified, his tail wagging like it might fall off. “Oso, calm down,” Droid murmured, but the dog wasn’t having it. He dragged his owner closer until he was practically at your feet. Looking up, you were greeted by Oso’s soft brown eyes and wagging tail as he sniffed curiously at you. “Well, aren’t you a handsome boy,” you cooed, crouching to pet him. Your fingers scratched behind his ears, and Oso immediately leaned into your touch, his tongue lolling out happily.

“Sorry about him,” Droid said, slightly breathless as he tried to rein in the overexcited dog. “He usually has better manners.” You laughed, glancing up at him. “Oh, he’s fine. Honestly, he made my day.” You scratched under Oso’s chin, your gaze lingering on Droid for a moment longer. He was cute—messy curls, glasses that framed his kind eyes, and a soft hoodie that made him seem approachable. Droid cleared his throat, feeling his shyness creep in under your gaze. “He, uh… he doesn’t usually pull me toward people like that.” “Well, I’m honored,” you said with a playful smile. “He’s got good taste.” Droid chuckled, his hands nervously adjusting the leash. “Yeah, he does.” Oso took this opportunity to nudge your hand with his nose, demanding more pets. Droid groaned. “Dude, really? At least pretend you’re shy like me.” You laughed again, your smile widening. “I don’t mind. He’s sweet. What’s his name?” “Oso,” Droid said, relaxing a bit now that the conversation was flowing. “He’s my partner in crime.” “He’s adorable,” you said, scratching Oso’s head as he soaked up the attention. “You’re lucky to have him.” “Yeah, he’s the best,” Droid agreed, glancing down at his dog with a fond smile.

“Though he’s clearly not subtle.” You raised an eyebrow. “Subtle about what?” Droid hesitated, his cheeks tinting pink. “Uh, nothing. Never mind.” But Oso wasn’t done being a wingman. He hopped up onto the bench beside you, leaning his big frame against your side. You giggled, wrapping an arm around him instinctively. “Looks like he’s trying to set you up,” you teased. Droid rubbed the back of his neck, laughing nervously. “Yeah, well… he’s smarter than I give him credit for.” The two of you fell into an easy conversation, talking about everything from favorite movies to funny pet stories. Oso stayed glued to your side, occasionally nudging Droid as if to say, “Hurry up, dude.” When the sun began to dip below the horizon, Droid finally worked up the courage to ask, “So, uh… would you maybe want to grab a coffee or something sometime? You know, since Oso clearly approves of you.” You smiled, touched by his shy sincerity. “I’d like that.” Droid grinned, relief washing over him. “Cool. Really cool.” As you exchanged numbers, Oso let out a happy bark, his tail wagging like crazy. Droid looked down at him, shaking his head.

🔹 Smut 🔹 Gang Bang 🔹 Foursome 🔹 Rough Sex 🔹 Size Kink 🔹 F!Reader 🔹 Overstimulation 🔹 Degradation + Praise 🔹 DP 🔹 Choking 🔹 Spit 🔹 Filthy Dirty Talk 🔹 Limits Pushed 🔹 Request 🦋

The room was hot—sweltering, even—but it had nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the way you were sprawled out between them. A wicked, filthy game, one you weren’t sure who started, but once it began? There was no stopping it. Grizzy. Puffer. Pezzy. Droid. All of them. All for you. It had started as harmless teasing, the usual banter laced with flirtation, until the tension had become something real—something palpable. You’d seen the way they looked at you, the way their eyes darkened when you pushed them, and tonight? Tonight, they weren’t holding back. Pezzy was behind you, his large hands holding you open, a deep chuckle vibrating in his chest as he muttered, “Look at you. So fucking needy.” Puffer’s lips brushed against your ear, hot, teasing, as he ran a rough hand down your thigh. “Think you can take us all, sweetheart? ‘Cause you’re gonna.” Grizzy groaned, impatient, starving, his grip bruising as he spread you further apart. “Fuck. We’re ruining you tonight.”

Droid? Droid just smirked. That cocky, teasing grin. “Better hold on, baby. We’re gonna break you.” And they did. They pushed your limits, tested your endurance, devoured you from every angle. Hands gripping, pinning, claiming. Mouths biting, sucking, owning. Cocks filling, stretching, fucking. Your moans shattered the silence, the filthy sounds of skin on skin echoing through the dimly lit room. Pezzy’s hand was tangled in your hair, pulling your head back so you could look at them—so you could see what a mess they’d turned you into. “Fuck,” he groaned, watching your body tremble, watching the way your lips parted in a helpless gasp. “You were made for this.” Puffer was the worst—cruel, relentless. He held you down, his voice a growl in your ear. “Where’s that smart mouth now, huh? Thought you could handle us.” Grizzy chuckled, dark and low. “They’re handling us just fine,” he teased, palming your throat, his thumb pressing down just enough to make you dizzy. “Aren’t you, baby?” You nodded—whimpered, really—but it wasn’t enough.

gn!reader, clooless podcast, humour, relationship goals, embarrassing stories, request🦋

“Alright, welcome back to the Clooless Podcast,” Puffer said, leaning dramatically into his mic. “Today, we have a guest so brave, so bold, they’ve willingly agreed to join us in the pit of nonsense that is this podcast.” “Please, give it up for the one, the only—Y/N!” Grizzy added, clapping loudly as Pezzy let out an over-the-top whistle. You laughed, already feeling the warmth of their camaraderie. “Hi, everyone,” you said, leaning into the mic. “Thanks for having me. I feel like I should be nervous, but honestly, I’m just here to make fun of Droid.” The room erupted into laughter as Droid groaned, throwing an arm around your chair. “Why are you like this?” “Because I learned from the best,” you shot back with a grin. Pezzy smirked, leaning forward. “I like them already. This is gonna be good.” It didn’t take long for the teasing to begin. “So, Y/N,” Puffer started, his tone innocent but his grin giving him away. “Since you’re here, we’ve gotta know—what’s the most embarrassing thing Droid has ever done around you?”

“Oh, no,” Droid groaned, slouching in his chair. “Don’t do this.” “Oh, I’m doing this,” you said, pretending to think. “Let’s see… Oh! Got it. There was this one time he tried to cook me dinner—” “Stop,” Droid interrupted, holding up a hand. “—and he set water on fire,” you finished, grinning. The guys erupted into laughter, Pezzy nearly falling out of his spot. “How the hell do you set water on fire?” “I don’t even know!” Droid exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. “Something caught on the burner or whatever. It’s not my fault!” “It’s definitely your fault,” Grizzy said, wiping tears from his eyes. “Hey, at least I tried,” Droid muttered, pouting. “And I appreciated the effort,” you said, patting his knee. “Even if the fire alarm went off for twenty minutes.” “That’s love right there,” Puffer said, shaking his head. The conversation shifted to high school stories, and that’s when things got really chaotic. “Alright, Y/N,” Pezzy said, smirking. “What was high school like for you?” “Oh god,” you groaned, leaning back in your chair.

“Do I really have to answer that?” “Yes,” Grizzy said immediately. “Fine,” you said, sighing. “I was that kid—the overachiever. I joined every club I could. Drama, band, yearbook, debate—you name it, I was in it.” “Oh, one of those,” Puffer teased, grinning. “But here’s the thing,” you continued. “I stretched myself way too thin. During the school play, I fell asleep backstage and missed my cue. They had to rewrite the whole scene on the spot.” Grizzy wheezed, clutching his stomach. “You rewrote the play by napping? That’s legendary.” “Icon behavior,” Pezzy said, nodding. “Alright, your turn,” you said, pointing at Droid. “What’s your most embarrassing high school story?” “Oh, Droid’s got this,” Grizzy said, grinning. “No, I don’t,” Droid protested. “Yes, you do,” Pezzy said. “Tell them about the abstract math thing.” Droid groaned, his head falling into his hands. “Why do you all hate me?” “What abstract math thing?” you asked, leaning forward eagerly. Droid sighed, resigning himself to his fate.

“Fine. I had a crush on this girl in math class, right? One day, I decided to impress her by solving this really complicated equation on the board. But halfway through, I panicked and just wrote random numbers. When she asked what it meant, I said, ‘It’s abstract math—you wouldn’t get it.’” The room erupted into laughter, and you nearly slid out of your chair. “Abstract math?! That’s the best you could come up with?” “Hey, it worked,” Droid muttered. “No, it didn’t,” Grizzy countered. “She told everyone, and you became ‘abstract math guy’ for the rest of the year.” By the time the podcast wrapped up, everyone was red-faced and teary-eyed from laughing so hard. “Alright, I think we’ve embarrassed ourselves enough for one day,” Puffer said, leaning back in his chair. “Speak for yourself,” Droid quipped. “I think I handled it pretty well.” You snorted. “Sure, abstract math.” The room erupted into laughter again, Droid groaning dramatically as Pezzy and Grizzy high-fived each other.

f!reader, fluff, humour, post-birth excitement, girl dad, chaotic joy, Dilf Droid, family bonding, request🦋

The chaos started as soon as your baby girl was born. Jaime, or Droid as most people called him, was already a ball of energy on a normal day, but now? Now he was a certified lunatic with new-dad energy that no one could contain. You lay in the hospital bed, your body still recovering from the hours of labor, watching in amused disbelief as Jaime darted around the room like a hyperactive kid on Christmas morning. His hands flew to his head as he stared at your newborn daughter in awe, letting out an ear-piercing scream of excitement before running to the nurse. “Yo, yo, yo, do you guys understand what just happened?! I’m a dad! Like, I have a tiny human now! And she’s a girl!” he shouted, his voice cracking as he bounced on the balls of his feet. The nurse chuckled, patting his shoulder. “Congratulations, Dad. She’s a beautiful baby.” “BEAUTIFUL?!” he screeched, practically falling to his knees in dramatic fashion. “This baby isn’t just beautiful. This baby is perfect.”

He whipped around to you, his eyes wide with a mix of joy and disbelief. “Babe, you made this! WE made this! Holy shit, I’m going to cry again.” You laughed, tired but happy. “Jaime, you’ve already cried, like, five times.” “And I’ll cry fifty more!” he declared, throwing his arms up. “Do you SEE this face?” He leaned over the bassinet, staring at your baby girl with the intensity of someone inspecting a priceless artifact. “Look at that nose. That’s my nose. Oh my god, that’s MY nose!” You rolled your eyes fondly. “Pretty sure that’s my nose, actually.” “Nah, nah, nah, you’re tripping. This baby has my whole vibe,” he said, scooping her up carefully and cradling her like she was made of glass. He turned to you with a ridiculously soft expression, his chaotic energy momentarily dimming as he whispered, “Babe… we made a freaking masterpiece.” Tears pricked your eyes as you nodded, overwhelmed by the love in his voice. “Yeah, we did.” But the sentimental moment didn’t last long because Jaime was back to bouncing on his heels, your baby girl nestled securely in his arms.

“Okay, but hear me out—what if we have another one? Like, back-to-back champions?” Your jaw dropped. “Jaime!” “What?!” he said, his grin growing even wider. “We’re on a roll, babe! Let’s keep the streak alive!” You groaned, throwing a pillow at him. “Can I at least recover from this one first?” “Fine, fine,” he said, ducking the pillow with a laugh. “But just so you know, I’m totally ready whenever you are. I mean, look at this baby! We’re naturals!” But then, as if a switch flipped, his chaotic energy kicked into overdrive. He let out an ear-piercing squeal of joy, nearly startling the baby. “I HAVE A DAUGHTER!” he screamed, jumping up and down—carefully, of course. “SHE’S SO CUTE! LOOK AT HER FACE! I CAN’T—Babe, we made a BABY GIRL!” The nurse peeked her head into the room, likely to make sure everything was okay, only to find Jaime clutching the baby to his chest like she was a trophy he’d just won. “Excited dad?” she asked, biting back a smile. “Oh, you have NO IDEA,” Jaime replied, his voice cracking. “Just planning for our next ten kids.”

“Ten?” you deadpanned, raising an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe eight,” he said with a shrug, winking at you. The baby let out a soft coo in his arms, and Jaime’s face immediately melted. “Oh my god. Did you hear that? She’s already talking to me. We’re having a full-on conversation.” You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.” “And you’re amazing,” he said, leaning down to kiss your forehead gently. “But seriously, babe. Thank you for giving me this little miracle. I’m gonna be the best dad ever. You just wait and see.” “This is the best day of my life. Like, hands down. Nothing else even comes close.” You laughed, shaking your head. “You said the same thing when we got engaged.” “And I meant it!” he shot back, grinning. “But this? THIS is on a whole other level, babe. I’m a girl dad. Do you know what that means? I’m gonna be so overprotective. No one’s getting near her. I’ll scare off every boy—or girl—who tries to date her. I’ll—” “Jaime,” you interrupted, rolling your eyes. “She’s a newborn. Let’s focus on surviving the first few months before you start planning her wedding, okay?”

He grinned sheepishly, rocking the baby gently as she let out a soft coo. His entire face lit up, his tears starting anew. “Oh my god, did you hear that? She just made the cutest noise ever. Babe, we need to record everything she does. I don’t want to forget a single moment.”

Later, as you rested in the hospital bed, Jaime pulled out his phone, his excitement bubbling over. “Okay, I HAVE to tell the guys,” he said, already typing furiously into the group chat. You chuckled, shaking your head. “Go ahead. Just don’t scare them too much, you’re literally bouncing off the walls.” “No promises,” he replied with a mischievous grin, hitting send. Within seconds, his phone exploded with notifications.

Matt: “BRO WHAT?”

Pezzy: “Holy shit, show us the baby!”

Grizzy: “Wait, I AM the baby. Oh wait, not anymore. WTF.”

Smii7y: “Is she okay? Is the baby okay? IS EVERYONE OKAY?!”

Jaime laughed so hard he nearly dropped his phone. “Oh man, this is gold. Hang on, I’m FaceTiming them.” Within moments, his screen was filled with their faces, all talking over each other as they demanded details. Jaime carefully tilted the camera toward your baby girl, his chest puffed out with pride. “Everyone, meet my baby girl,” he announced, his voice cracking as he grinned from ear to ear. “BROOOO,” Matt yelled, practically deafening everyone else. “She’s so cute, what the hell?!” “Holy shit, she’s tiny,” Pezzy added, his voice softening. Smii7y looked like he was on the verge of tears. “Dude, you’re a dad. Like, a real dad.” Jaime sniffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I know, man. Isn’t she amazing? She’s got my nose and everything.” You groaned from the bed. “She does NOT have your nose.” Jaime ignored you, grinning as he showed her off to his friends. “I’m telling you, she’s the cutest baby ever. And she’s a girl, y’all. Do you know what that means? I’m gonna spoil her so bad.” The baby let out another soft coo, and the entire group collectively lost it, their voices blending into a chaotic mix of “awws” and “oh my gods.”

f!reader, shopping trip fluff, playful banter, overprotective reader, confident Droid, light PDA, group teasing, request🦋

The day started as a simple shopping trip. At least, that’s how it had been pitched. Droid agreed without hesitation—partly because he loved spending time with you, and partly because he knew the inevitable teasing he’d get from his friends was worth the smug satisfaction of knowing he was your guy. You strolled into the mall, looking absolutely stunning in your carefully chosen outfit, radiating effortless confidence. Droid, on the other hand, was in his usual laid-back attire, though even that couldn’t diminish how attractive he looked. The way his hoodie hugged his broad shoulders and his confident swagger turned more than a few heads as the two of you walked by. “Are you sure you want to carry all my stuff?” you teased, holding up the first of what you knew would be many bags. “I’d be offended if you didn’t let me,” he shot back, flashing you a grin. “Besides, I have to keep my trophy boyfriend status intact.” The hours flew by in a whirlwind of boutique stops and fitting rooms, Droid faithfully trailing behind you with an increasing number of bags dangling from his arms. Each time you stepped out to model an outfit, his eyes lit up like he was seeing you for the first time.

“You’re trying to kill me,” he said at one point, his voice low and teasing as he leaned in close. “How am I supposed to survive this?” “You’re doing just fine,” you replied with a wink, brushing a kiss against his cheek. The faint lipstick mark you left behind was intentional, but you didn’t expect him to notice—or care. What you hadn’t anticipated was Droid’s unwavering determination to keep it there. “Wait—” you started, reaching for his face, but he pulled back, shaking his head. “Nope. Not happening,” he said, his tone light but firm. “This is a trophy, and I’m wearing it with pride.” You rolled your eyes, laughing. “You’re ridiculous.” “And you love me for it,” he said, grinning as he picked up yet another bag. The plan had been to meet up with the guys after finishing your shopping spree, and it didn’t take long to spot them in the food court. Grizzy was mid-sip of his drink when he caught sight of Droid, his jaw dropping. “Yo, Droid,” he said, motioning toward him, “did you get mugged by Sephora, or what?” The others turned to look, and Puffer immediately doubled over laughing. “No way, man. Did she kiss you and just leave you like that?” Droid didn’t miss a beat, striding over with all the confidence in the world.

f!reader, rough sex, dirty talk, dom!Droid, teasing, biting, light choking, marking, hair pulling, aftercare, request🦋

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. The two of you had been toeing the line for weeks—flirty banter, lingering glances, and moments that felt too heavy with tension to be considered just friends. But no one had ever made the first move, and so the game continued, neither of you daring to cross that invisible line. Until tonight. The group had gone out for drinks, the usual chaos in full swing. You’d laughed until your stomach hurt, watching as Droid roasted everyone in sight with his quick wit and sharp tongue. But every now and then, his gaze would drift to you, holding your eyes for just a second too long before flicking away. It made your pulse race, the unspoken pull between you growing stronger with each passing glance. By the time the night ended, you were walking side by side down the quiet street toward his house, the others having split off earlier. The air between you was thick with tension, the kind that made your skin tingle and your thoughts race. “You good?” Droid asked, his voice casual but his eyes flicking over to you, studying your expression. “Yeah,” you replied, trying to sound normal. “Just… tired.” He huffed a laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Bullshit. You’re overthinking something—I can see it on your face.” You hesitated, biting your lip. “Maybe.” Droid stopped walking, turning to face you fully. “Okay, spill. What’s going on in that head of yours?” You looked up at him, the dim streetlight casting shadows across his sharp features.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you considered your next words. “I… just can’t stop thinking about something,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. His brow quirked, a slow, teasing smirk spreading across his lips. “Oh? And what’s that?” “You,” you said simply, your cheeks burning as the word hung in the air between you. For a moment, Droid didn’t move, his eyes locked on yours as if he was waiting for you to take it back. But then, his smirk turned into something darker, more serious. “Say that again,” he said, his voice lower now, his tone almost daring. You swallowed hard, stepping closer. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” That was all it took. The door to his apartment barely closed before he had you pinned against it, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that left you breathless. His hands gripped your waist tightly, pulling you flush against him as his tongue slid past your lips, claiming your mouth like he’d been waiting for this moment forever. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he muttered against your lips, his voice rough and strained. “Then stop holding back,” you replied, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. Droid growled low in his throat, his hands sliding down to grab your thighs and lift you effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. When he finally set you down on the edge of the bed, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and filled with something primal.

“Last chance,” he said, his voice hoarse. “If you want me to stop, tell me now.” You shook your head, your voice steady despite the way your heart raced. “I don’t want you to stop. I want all of you.” That was all he needed to hear. The first touch of his hands on your bare skin sent a shiver down your spine. His fingers trailed over your thighs, pushing up your skirt as he knelt between your legs, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re fucking perfect,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your inner thigh before sinking his teeth in lightly, leaving a mark that made you gasp. “Jaime—” “Shh,” he said, his voice teasing. “Let me take my time with you.”

But patience wasn’t in the cards tonight.

By the time he’d rid you of your clothes, he was already on top of you, his body pressing yours into the mattress as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of bites and kisses in his wake. “You like it rough, don’t you?” he murmured, his teeth grazing your shoulder. “Yes,” you breathed, your fingers digging into his back. “Good.” His hand wrapped around your throat lightly, just enough to make your breath hitch as he leaned down to kiss you again. His other hand gripped your hip, holding you steady as he thrust into you for the first time, filling you completely. The stretch was intense, almost too much, but the way he looked at you—hungry, possessive—made it impossible to focus on anything but him. “Fuck, you feel so good,” Droid groaned, his voice strained as he started to move. His pace was rough and demanding, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. “You’re taking me so well,” he muttered, his hand tightening slightly around your throat. “You were made for this—made for me.” His words sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your nails dragging down his back as you moaned his name. “Jaime, I—” “Cum for me,” he growled, his hips slamming into yours harder, faster. “Let me hear you scream my name.” You shattered around him, your body trembling as waves of pleasure crashed over you. But he didn’t stop. “Again,” he demanded, his voice rough and breathless. “You can give me another one.” And you did.

gn!reader, argument/angst, bilingual insults, makeup sex, rough/angry sex, multiple positions, intense emotional release

It started as a small disagreement—something about schedules, about time spent gaming versus time together. But what should have been a casual conversation spiraled fast. Neither of you backed down, words lashing out sharp and hot until the living room vibrated with anger. “You never listen!” you shouted, hands on your hips, fury knotting in your chest. “I’m tired of feeling like your last priority whenever you jump online with the guys.” Droid scoffed, running a hand through his hair, voice rising to match yours. “Oh, so I can’t enjoy my friends now, huh?” His tone dripped with sarcasm. “You’re acting fucking crazy—” He hesitated, then let something sharper slip under his breath, “Pinche terco/a,” he muttered in Spanish, glaring at you as if daring you to respond. Your eyes widened. He rarely pulled out Spanish insults on you. “Oh, I’m pinche terco/a now?” you threw back, deliberately using the same language. “Mira quién habla—look who’s talking! You always twist this shit back on me!” Each word spat from your lips like sparks, fury igniting every nerve. The argument escalated—shouting, name-calling, voices echoing off the walls. Both of you pacing, gesturing wildly. He called you stubborn again; you called him a selfish asshole. By the end of it, both of you were breathing hard, hands shaking, hearts pounding. You stormed off first, retreating to the bedroom and slamming the door behind you. He stayed in the living room, fuming quietly.

Hours passed. You could hear distant laughter through the door as he hopped onto a session with the guys, his tone forced but still managing jokes. You lay in bed, arms folded, still stewing. Slowly, as the adrenaline drained, weariness and regret settled in. Yeah, he said mean things, but so did you. You both took cheap shots. Now, under the dim glow of a bedside lamp, you stared at the ceiling, wondering if he’d stay mad forever. Eventually, silence fell. You caught the quiet creak of the bathroom door, the low hum of a shower turning on, then off. You guessed he’d be sleeping on the couch tonight, and part of you ached at the thought. Another part of you still simmered with resentment. Let him suffer, you thought, flipping onto your side. But not ten minutes later, you felt the mattress dip behind you. The scent of fresh soap and shampoo enveloped you. Droid slipped under the covers, not touching you at first, his body radiating warmth but leaving a careful space. You considered pushing him away or telling him to leave, but stayed silent, pretending to ignore him. Time dragged. You almost drifted off, but then he shifted. Slowly, he rolled closer. His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. You stiffened, heart thudding. He tucked his face near your neck, breath soft, holding you like this was some delicate offering. For a moment, you considered shoving him off, still hurt. But the heat of his body and the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back soothed some raw nerve inside you.

Still, you said nothing, and neither did he. After what felt like another ten minutes of silence, he whispered, voice rough, “I’m sorry.” His hand moved up and down your side, a gentle stroke meant to calm. “I was a dick tonight. I shouldn’t have said what I said.” You swallowed, still facing away from him. “What you said was mean,” you replied softly, voice tight. “You really hurt me. It’s not just a stupid fight, Droid. You called me shit in Spanish, you blamed everything on me.” “I know,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to the back of your shoulder. “I know, and I’m sorry. It was the heat of the moment. I was pissed. I didn’t mean any of it.” You sighed, feeling tension coil in your belly. Could you trust that he was truly sorry? “How do I know you mean it?” you asked, voice small but still holding an edge. You were still angry, still unsure if you should let him off the hook. That’s when his hand changed course. Instead of a simple soothing rub, his touch became more insistent. His fingertips pressed more firmly, sliding down from your waist over the curve of your hip. You let out a sharp breath, surprised. His lips brushed your neck, warm and apologetic, and you could feel the way his body pressed closer, his desire uncoiling between you like a promise. “Let me show you,” he whispered, voice low, the kind of tone you only heard when he was desperate. “I know you’re mad. I know I messed up. Just let me make it up to you… please.” “Stop,” you murmured, half-heartedly, a strained protest.

But your body betrayed you, arching slightly into his touch. You wanted him to keep going. The night’s tension twisted into something hotter, darker, relief and anger and longing tangling together until you weren’t sure if you wanted to slap him or fuck him. He didn’t stop. Another kiss on your neck, teeth grazing your skin, making your breath hitch. His hand slipped under your shirt, palm warm against your stomach. The contrast of fury and lust set your nerves alight. You tried to sound resistant, whispering, “This doesn’t fix what you said,” but the catch in your voice told him you were weakening. “I know,” he admitted, voice husky. “But I want to try. Let me please you… let’s get this tension out.” His other hand slid down, gripping your thigh, urging your leg back around his hip. You could feel him growing hard against you, and you cursed under your breath, half angry, half aching for him. You twisted in his arms, rolling onto your back to face him. The lamp cast shadows across his face, showing genuine remorse in his eyes. He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. You bit his lower lip, half punishment, half invitation. He moaned softly, grinding against you, and you felt your fury melt into feral desire. “Don’t think this makes it all better,” you mumbled against his lips, fingers tangling in his damp hair. He smirked, a flash of humor and hunger. “I know,” he purred, sliding your shirt up, exposing your skin.

You sucked in a sharp breath as he lowered his head, kissing down your chest, hands deftly tugging off garments until you both were half-naked, breathless, and glaring at each other with something primal and raw. In that desperate haze, you pushed him onto his back, straddling him.

He watched you with hooded eyes, lips parted. “You’re still a jerk,” you hissed, rolling your hips, making him gasp. “A fucking asshole.” He groaned, gripping your waist. “Call me whatever you want,” he shot back, voice trembling, “just don’t stop.” The bed creaked as you rode him harder, frustration and need pouring out in each motion. His nails dug into your hips, leaving faint crescents, and you took delight in his whimpering moans. He deserved a bit of pain, a bit of rough handling. But soon he flipped you over, pressing you into the mattress, his mouth tracing hot lines along your neck. He slipped into you with a low grunt, and you cried out, nails scratching his shoulders. “Fuck,” you gasped, angry tears replaced by raw pleasure. He kissed you through it, each thrust shaking loose the night’s anger, turning rage into something desperate and fulfilling. You switched positions again. Missionary, where he pinned your wrists above your head, murmuring apologies between rough kisses. Doggy, where you pushed back against him, taking what you needed while he moaned your name into your shoulder. Off the edge of the bed, legs draped over his arms, him panting with effort, you biting back insults and moans. Finally, you climbed on top once more, hands braced on his chest, fucking him until his eyes rolled back and he begged to cum. “Please,” he whimpered, voice cracking as you slowed your pace, making him suffer deliciously. “I’m so sorry, just—please let me—”

f!reader, friends to lovers, playful teasing, body positivity, soft smut, first time, fluff and feelings, request🦋

The room was filled with laughter as you and Droid lounged on the couch, a mess of snacks and gaming controllers scattered around. You’d both been hanging out all day, teasing each other and trading playful insults that only seemed to strengthen your bond. “You’re so full of it,” Droid said, shaking his head as he stretched out, his hoodie slightly riding up his waist. “Am not,” you shot back, popping a chip into your mouth. “I’m just stating facts.” “Oh, yeah? What facts?” he challenged, his dark eyes gleaming with curiosity and mischief. “That there’s no way you could pick me up,” you said, your voice light but tinged with self-consciousness. Droid blinked, then scoffed. “You’re joking, right?” You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. “No, I’m serious. I’m not exactly light, you know?” His expression softened, the teasing fading as he sat up straighter. “You think I can’t handle that?” “It’s not that—” Before you could finish, Droid stood abruptly and held out his hand. “Alright, come here.” “What? No way!” you laughed, leaning back into the couch. “Don’t make me come over there,” he said, his tone playful but firm, a challenge glinting in his eyes. You hesitated, a nervous laugh escaping your lips.

“Jaime, don’t even think about it.” “Oh, I’m thinking about it,” Droid replied, stepping closer. His hands were already reaching for you, and before you could protest further, he scooped you up effortlessly, his arms locking around your waist as he hoisted you up over his shoulder. “Jaime!” you shrieked, half-laughing, half-panicking as you clung to the back of his hoodie. “Put me down! Oh my god, you’re insane!” “And you’re lighter than you think,” he teased, his voice warm and confident. He spun around once, your squeals filling the room, before gently lowering you back onto the couch. But instead of stepping back, he leaned over you, his hands braced on either side of your head. Your laughter trailed off as the air shifted. Droid’s face was inches from yours, his dark eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. His smirk softened, replaced by something more tender, more vulnerable. “You good?” he asked softly, his voice low and laced with concern. “Yeah,” you whispered, your heartbeat hammering in your chest. “I’m good.” Neither of you moved, the space between you charged with an unspoken tension. His gaze flickered to your lips, and for a moment, it felt like the world had narrowed to just the two of you.

Without thinking, you reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek. “Jaime…” you murmured, your voice barely audible. He leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away, but you didn’t. His lips met yours in a kiss that started tentative, almost hesitant, before deepening as he felt you relax beneath him. His hand slid to your waist, his touch firm but gentle as he guided you closer. The kiss grew more fervent, a fire building between you as Droid’s weight pressed against you, grounding you in the moment. His lips moved with a mix of urgency and care, each kiss leaving a trail of heat down your neck. When his hands slid under the hem of your shirt, brushing against your bare skin, a shiver ran through you, and you instinctively arched into his touch. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his breath hot against your collarbone. His voice was raw, filled with longing and unspoken promises. “Then show me,” you whispered, your voice trembling as your fingers tangled in his hair. Droid didn’t need to be told twice. His hands moved to gently tug your shirt over your head, his gaze darkening as he took you in. “God, you’re stunning,” he said, his tone reverent.

He leaned down, his lips trailing kisses over your shoulders, his hands exploring every curve with a tenderness that made your heart ache. Your hands found the hem of his hoodie, and he helped you pull it over his head, revealing the toned muscle beneath. Your fingers trailed along his chest, marveling at the warmth of his skin. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased, your voice soft but playful. He chuckled, the sound low and full of affection. “I’m gonna make sure you know exactly how I feel about you,” he promised, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that stole your breath. Droid’s touch was deliberate, every movement a silent declaration of how much he cherished you. When his lips moved lower, trailing kisses down your stomach, you couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped you. His hands gripped your hips, steadying you as he worshiped every inch of you. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe as he looked up at you. “You hear me? Perfect.” His words sent a wave of warmth through you, melting away any insecurities. “Jaime,” you murmured, your hands reaching for him, pulling him back up to kiss you deeply.

The weight of him pressing you into the couch was intoxicating, and the way he looked at you—like you were the only person in the world—made your heart race.

When he finally moved to align himself with you, he paused, his gaze searching yours. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. “I don’t want you to stop,” you assured him, your hands cupping his face. “I want this. I want you.” He nodded, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before entering you slowly, giving you time to adjust to the feeling. The stretch was overwhelming in the best way, and you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you. Droid stilled, his brow furrowing in concern. “You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle. “Perfect,” you breathed, your hands gripping his shoulders as you pulled him closer. “Don’t stop.” He began to move, his pace slow and deliberate at first, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through you. His hands roamed your body, his touch grounding you as his lips found yours again. “You feel so good,” he murmured against your lips, his voice trembling with restraint. As your moans grew louder, so did his pace, his movements becoming more urgent as the tension built between you. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, his hand tangling in your hair as he kissed you deeply. “Let go for me.”