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skelly-words · 8 months

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Knock First Next Time

(NSFW Levi x Reader)

MDNI 18+ only

I just woke up and this was in my drive, bro, idk it's crazy. I don't even wanna talk about it anymore, just read the tags and don't look at me.

Reader has a cooch

Tags: excessive porn, Levi being a loser, Monster fucking-ish, double penetration, anal and p in v, tail play (is that a thing), biting, choking, undiscussed kinks (but bffr it's fine in fantasy), he has two dicks and they're blue with bioluminescent cum, that's my tag

Synopsis: You walk in on Levi playing eroge, pls just read the tags and don't make me explain it.

Wc: 4.2k

“Levi?” you yell through the door to his room. “You skipped lunch so I brought you something.”

You knock persistently at the wood. It’s late in the afternoon and nobody has seen Leviathan all day. Most of the brothers aren’t worried about him, citing his commonly reclusive behavior. Even if this is regular, you want to make sure he at least remembers to eat even if he is wrapped up in his new anime or RPG binge.

“I don’t know if you can hear me or not but I’m coming in.” You knock a couple of times in warning before you swing the door open.

The lights in his room are so dim you can barely see his silhouette as he sits, hunched over, in his gaming chair. Levi’s playing some kind of RPG. An erotic one judging by the big-tittied anime girls and multi-colored tentacles moving across the screen. And it would be nice if you had respected his privacy and left his room, but that would be boring and predictable. You calmly set the plate and sandwich on the edge of his bed as you approach the back of his chair.

As you get closer, you can hear muffled sound coming from his headphones. No wonder he couldn’t hear you knocking. You stay quiet and out of his peripheral vision, slowly reaching to lift the left side of his headphones away from his ear.

“Wow, Levi,” you whisper into his ear. “I didn't know you were into tentacle hentai.”

“No!” he shrieks, frantically trying to close out of the game. He’s too shocked, shaking so badly he can’t get the mouse to the exit button before you’re pulling his chair back from his desk. “That's not what this is. It isn't what it looks like.”

“Really? ‘Cause it looks like you blew us all off to play eroge all day. Just wait until your brothers hear about this.”

“No, please don’t, it’s not in like a weird way. It’s an RPG. I can’t resist a good RPG even if most of the art and story arc is erotic.”

“How respectful,” you say half-sarcastically. You’re equally unimpressed and entertained. “You’re making me interested. Talk to me about it.” You lean against his chair, tilting him back to look up at you.

“No!” He says for the third time.

“What? Is that your new favorite word?” You tilt your head to the side to see if he looks any less embarrassed sideways. “Can I play with you?”

You have ulterior motives when asking, but Levi doesn’t seem to pick up on that. He shakes his head and buries his blush in his hands.

“Absolutely not. Get out, and please don’t tell my brothers. Especially Mammon, he’ll extort me for money. And I can’t handle the teasing from Asmo…” He keeps mumbling about whatever, but you aren’t really listening to it.

You pull his chair further away from his desk to make room for you to stand in front of him. The art style is interesting, and you click through some of the dialogue, but he’s too far progressed for you to understand the story at all. For all you know, the excuse that he’s playing it for the plot could be total bullshit.

“Hey, stop that.” Levi stands up and snatches the mouse from you, unintentionally clicking the story along. He’s recovered from his brief heart attack enough to get up from his gaming chair, but not enough to notice how his body effectively traps you against his desk.

The screen changes to the actual gameplay, which is somehow more lewd than the story portion of the game. A woman is spread across the center of the screen with a slimy blue tentacle pressed into each of her holes. There’s a slightly smaller tentacle too that wraps up the woman’s leg and lays across her clit. A timer bar steadily decreases across the top of the screen.

Levi’s frozen. You probably think he’s such a fucking pervert now, and it doesn’t help that he can feel himself getting hard while standing so close behind you. It’s even worse that he’s going to have to lose this level now, ruining his perfect run of the game.

Your hand overlaps his on the mouse as you drag the cursor to the pause button. His fingers still don't move, hovering the cursor uselessly over the button.

"You're gonna run out of time," you keep a playful lilt to your voice. "Either pause it or play."

He debates for a second longer, doing whatever mental gymnastics he usually goes through to figure out how to proceed. He barely misses a beat. The cursor drops away from the pause button. You don't really pay attention to the gameplay itself, focusing on feeling his hand beneath yours, the lewd sounds echoing from the abandoned headphones looped around Levi's neck, and his growing boner pressing against your lower back.

"You're good," you say, half-impressed and concerned with the dramatics of the female's orgasm. The level finishes, and Levi keeps his perfect record with a three-star score.

"Do you still want me to show you how to play?" It's the boldest thing he can manage to say, which isn't saying much when it comes out so pathetically. He's begging as if the answer is hopelessly 'no.'

"Sure."

You can feel when Levi exhales, relieved, against your temple. His hand twitches beneath yours on the mouse as he drags the cursor to exit the game and start a new save.

Apparently, his whole spiel about playing for the story wasn't complete bullshit. He points out important plot points and shows you different strategies, but it's hard to concentrate on anything he says.

As his nerves dissolve, replaced by pure nerdiness, he pulls his chair back up to the desk, sits down, and settles you in his lap. You doubt he's completely aware of what he's doing with how engrossed he is with the game. When he's teaching you how to play, he has complete tunnel vision.

Levi lets you hold the mouse, reversing the roles so that he's guiding your hand. His unoccupied arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer to him with a gasp whenever you come close to losing.

You find yourself surprisingly into it, despite never playing an eroge before. Your left hand stays glued to the keyboard, sprawled across the controls as you concentrate on the game. You're literally sweating as you struggle to finish the level (or make the level finish, either way).

A yellow banner unrolls across the screen, and the protagonist frowns at your one-star win.

"Shit, that was kinda intense." You sigh and lean back into his chest. Intense is an understatement. Adrenaline was making your hands shake and breath stutter. It didn't help that Levi was being so generous with his touch. If you didn't know better, you'd think he was pulling you against his bulge on purpose, but he was probably just being absentminded.

"It's fun, right?"

"Yeah, and the art is pretty hot too. It's fucked up that you need both hands to play, know what I mean?" You let go of the controls to pry his arm from around your waist. It starts off with you innocently playing with his fingers as he contemplates what you’re talking about. While it's obvious, he tries to find an alternative meaning.

"Help me out, Levi?" You bring his hand down to rest on the front of your shorts.

He stops breathing and he freezes. A few seconds pass as his brain takes a second to catch up. Even when he relaxes, there's still tension in how he holds himself.

"Are you sure?" he asks.

You roll your eyes at his question and go back to clicking through the next segment of the story.

Levi's touches begin hesitantly, barely brushing you as he unties the drawstring of the loose shorts. You try to stay cool. Somebody has to, and with the way he struggles to untie the simple bow, it's not going to be him.

"C'mon, Levi." You'd been playing for at least an hour, becoming more and more wound up by the erotic imagery the entire time. Maybe at the beginning, you were being purposefully suggestive to tease him, but now it felt like you actually needed him to touch you. Not that you were into tentacles or anything. You especially weren't turned on by the way his tail had loosely wrapped around your ankle at some point.

"You're not even playing anymore." He tried to sound smooth and confident, but there was still a shake in his voice and hands. Even the hand guiding yours on the mouse felt a little sweatier.

You clicked through the rest of the story quickly, skimming over the text and pausing for longer when particularly provocative characters or lines flashed across the screen.

Levi's fingers slipped down the front of your shorts as you started the next level of the game. You'd barely managed to win the last level, and your gameplay only got sloppier as his index finger pushed your underwear to the side. The tip of his middle finger slipped up your slit, stopping when he felt your clit.

You squirmed in his lap, spreading your legs across his thighs.

"Pay attention. You're losing." He critiques your technique further as the pad of his finger loops lazily over your nub. He's back to being fully immersed in the stupid RPG.

You can't pay attention when he slips his finger lower to tease your entrance just to make you wetter. He plays with your pussy so easily. You don't notice anything weird about it until you moan and he laughs, mumbling, "Just like the game."

"Are you fucking kidding me, Levi?" You're not mad that he's doing it, more pissed that it's working. He's following the motions you should be doing on the desperate, slutty, moaning woman on the screen.

"What? I'm giving you hints."

You lose that level, but Levi doesn't. He gently coaxes an orgasm out of you with a finger on your clit. You cum around nothing, staring enviously at the character stuffed so full on the screen.

"It's too bad we can't recreate the whole thing." You try to sound nonchalant, but your legs shake a little as you turn to face him. You straddle his lap as best you can without the armrests getting in the way.

"W-what do you mean?" He stutters now that it isn't a game anymore. His eyes flick from the red losing screen to your face.

"Don't play dumb." You can feel his bulge against the front of your shorts as you lean closer to him. It's hard to keep eye contact when filth spills out of your mouth. "I wanna be full like that."

"Are you serious? 'Cause-" He cuts himself off with a hand over his mouth.

"What?"

"I don't wanna say it. It's so gross." He speaks between the small gaps in his fingers.

"I'm into slimy tentacles, how gross could it be?" You gently pull his hand away from his mouth. "Tell me."

"U-um, I, er-" He clears his throat and shuts his eyes, as if not looking at you makes it easier. "I have two, um, well you know. But it's not normal, so if you think it's weird don't feel bad, okay?"

"Are you shitting me?" It's your turn to cover your mouth. "Sorry, I meant, can I see?"

He nods, dropping his head and hands to untie his sweats. You push his hands out of the way when he gets slow and loses his first wave of confidence. It's impossible to pull his sweats down in the cramped position forced by the gaming chair. After thirty seconds too long of struggling, you huff in frustration.

"Let's just go to your bed."

"The tub?"

"Yeah, the tub." You start to wiggle off his lap, but he stops you.

Levi roughly grabs your thighs. He's clumsy when he stands up but makes up for it with the fact that you weigh next to nothing to him. Your hands balance on his chest, working upwards to hold onto his shoulders.

His tail slips higher to notch in the bend of your knee as he takes unsteady steps towards his bathtub. The cool porcelain bowl is almost overflowing with pillows and plushies. Your legs loop over either side of the tub as you spill out of his arms. You sink into the tub, submerging in the pillows as you would in water. Your hips stay lifted in the air, legs held up by the tub and Levi's cool fingers.

You can hardly feel his shaky touch as it creeps up your thighs, not until he brushes the hem of your shorts. He's so light and cautious, afraid for you to regret your decision and run, every movement is testing the water.

"Don't tease me, Levi." You gently tug the sleeve of his hoodie, dragging his hand between your thighs again so he can feel how warm you are. And as if he could ever resist you after that, you softly whisper, "Please, I wanna see you."

With a groan, his hand slides higher, cuffing the crease of your thigh. The loose leg of the night shorts bunches up to show off the lacy blue panties that barely cover you at all.

"I don't even know what to do with you." His other hand palms his bulge through his sweatpants, thumbing over each cockhead through the layers of material.

It's hard not to laugh, not meanly, but Levi's so cute like this. His hands fall to his sides, tightening and relaxing like he needs something to hold onto. He's focused on how you move while you slip the shorts off your legs.

He fumbles with his sweats, still as clumsy as he was before. There's a light tremble to the motions of his fingers as the knot comes undone and his pants slide down.

Levi kneels between your thighs in his light gray boxers. You're caged in by his arms, still clothed in your dark shirt. His hips slot against yours, and you can feel how much precum has soaked through the fabric of his underwear. The stickiness between you makes a mess of your panties too; it slickens the friction against your sensitive clit. His hips set a steady rhythm of rutting into you, shallow breaths beating against your neck with each rough roll.

"Okay," he says between breaths, "but you can't freak out."

Levi leans in to hesitantly kiss you. His left hand slips down to his boxers, shuffling them down and around his thighs. The kiss is a distraction, capturing your attention with the slide of his tongue against your bottom lip while he presses the head of his dick against your thigh.

You gasp into the kiss pulling away to watch him push your panties to the side. The flushed purple at the tip of his upper cock fades to a blue that almost matches the lace trim digging into the crease of your thigh. The tip of his lower dick is buried inside you. Precum drips onto your navel as he fucks further into you, forming a snail trail up your abdomen to mark how deep he is.

Your tight tank top bunches higher and higher around your waist, inching up with each thrust until the material is scrunched under your tits. Levi's mouth latches around your nipple through the thin cotton, soaking it through with his spit as he sucks on you. He tugs the strap off your opposite shoulder, letting his fingers trail down your chest. The cool touch makes your nipple stiffen as he rolls the bud between his thumb and forefinger, a sharp exhale leaving your lips.

Levi's mouth becomes greedier as you moan freely. The seal of his mouth muffles his own sounds as his dick hits deeper, finding spots that make your hips buck back against him.

"I want both," you whine. Your hand drops to where his neglected cock slides up your tummy through a light-blue puddle. It throbs in your hand as you milk him for more precum until the slick drips between your fingers.

"Fuck, you were serious?" Levi pops off your tit to look down at you with a lopsided grin. The hand cupping your breast leaves, crawling down your stomach to collect some of his mess on the way to your butt. In the low light of his LED strips, the streaks on your skin almost glow.

He lets you keep him warm while he preps you. Hips stay flush with yours while he focuses on pushing his middle finger past your rim. He's so slow and gentle, groaning into your ear as he slides deeper. It's too slow and methodical, so torturous that you're breath catches with each push and pull.

Your messy hand slips lower, leaving the tip of his dick to help him out. The tip of your finger presses alongside his as he fucks into you.

"Shit, Levi." Your words come between hot pants. "I need one more."

"What a fucking filthy mouth." He laughs softly and catches your lips in a kiss. You're perfectly pliant, letting him fill you up, even his tongue tasting you too. A third finger stretches you open and you whimper into his mouth as your muscles adjust.

A sick squish comes from between your bodies, matching the milky stains that dotted the pillows beneath you. It takes all of Levi's self-control to keep his hips still when you're tucked under him like this. Thighs spread out while he fills up your cute pussy.

His breath catches as you tug his wrist away, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

"I think I'm ready, baby." Your hand wraps around his to guide it higher, up to the base of his lower dick. "Just, go slow, okay?"

"Uh-huh." He nods into your neck as he begins to pull out of you. The tip of his dick throbs when he taps it against your rim. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum so fast."

"I-It's okay," you stumble when the point of his tail bumps your clit. It's a shame that you're so empty, his pre dribbles out of your slit as you clench around nothing. "Me too."

The smooth scales of his tail raise goosebumps on your thigh as it moves across your skin. It winds down the crease of your right hip and up around to the left. He uses it to lift your hips up better and take the pressure off your legs. You can tell it's a good angle before he even pushes in. The head of his cock sinks into your ass, there's barely any resistance with how slick your pussy left him. His warm breaths dampen your neck, maybe some of it's spit with how it drips a little toward your chest.

You rub the tip of his neglected dick up and down your cunny, just enough to make him whine. His tail hikes your hips up and he sinks into you, not all at once, but enough for a sharp moan leave your split lips. He slows to a gentle grind, trying not to let out anymore embarrassing sounds in your ear, trying not to shove more into you no matter how good it feels.

His teeth sink into your neck, biting down to muffle the groans while he tries not to fuck into you.

"It's okay," you breathe out, "just go slow."

"Mmhmm," Levi hums, tongue laving over the indents of his teeth. The first roll of his hips is generous, and he bites back any noise when his dentition digs into you. Your moans pitch up as he fills you one inch at a time. The scales on his tail are cool to the touch, just like his fingers. The thin end flicks your clit up and down, making you leak and squish around him.

Your cunt is twitching as forces more dick into you, drooling down to lubricate your ass as you get closer. Just the way he bites you, grunting between gritted teeth as he ruts into you, has your poor pussy sucking him in more.

"You did it, baby." Levi's smile presses into your neck. He sits up on his knees, leaving a parting kiss on your lips as he pulls back. His hands trace the swell in your tummy, the fuzzy hair at the base of his cock bumping your swollen nub as he grinds into you. "I didn't think I'd fit."

A soft giggle trickles, rose-scented and sultry, out of your pretty mouth. "You fit fucking perfect."

A grin tugs at his mouth and he pulls back a little. The drag is delicious. You can feel every vein and ridge on him as your holes clamp down from sensitivity. He kisses you slow, shoving into your g-spot from the angle he has you bent at.

"You're so so tight," he murmurs against your mouth, taking shaky breaths between kisses. It's like you don't want to let him go and he'd be content to stay buried inside of you.

Levi doesn't let you reply, licking into your mouth when you try to speak, consuming your broken words when he bites those petal-sweet lips. Spit pools in the corners of your mouth, drooling to match the juice curving down your butt.

He has to swallow more of your moans as he starts to move. His hips start with a stutter because he wants so badly to stay stuffed inside of you, but he finds a rhythm. You cling to his shoulders, nails leaving angry crescents in his milky skin.

Your legs tremble each time Levi fills you up, squeezing into your tight ass while your pussy eagerly slurps in every inch of his heavy cock. They slip around his waist to lock in the back, one ankle crossing over the other so he can't possibly pull away. And he doesn't want to, whispering filth to you between tender kisses.

"Thank you," Levi groans as he rocks into you. "Thank you for being such a cute toy." His hands get greedier, slipping around your butt and gripping dimples into the fat.

He's smothers you with his lips until you're dizzy off his taste. Stealing more than just your breath, the swell of your bottom lips catches on his canine.

You cup Levi's jaw, drawing your thumb over his adam's apple on your way down his neck. The curve of your hand settles around the base of his throat as a warning.

"You think so?" Your voice is testy, but Levi doesn't seem to notice.

He nods, eyes too glazed over to really be listening. "Perfect fucking slut, all full of me." His breath fans over your wrist as he looks down at where you're holding him.

"Try again."

You keep him just a hair away from reaching your lips, digging the pad of your thumb into the hollow between his collar bones. There's barely pressure at first. He fucks into you harder, locking eyes with you while his dicks turn up your guts. As if that was the right answer, he leans in to kiss you again.

The palm of your hand flattens against the front of his throat, pressing him further away. You keep him held back, even has he strains against you, choking himself on your hand for a kiss.

"Gimme a kiss," his voice is thick, cut up too by the gentle squeeze of your fingers. "Please, baby." He punctuates each word with his cock, hitting you better with the heel of his palm flattening your stomach. He massages over the faint bulge. A thin string of saliva drips from his mouth to yours as he feels himself inside of you, prodding against his hand while you squirm beneath him.

A low rumble starts to build in his chest as he tries to get close to you, even to lay his pouting lips on your cheeks or forehead. His sounds are choked by the hand around his throat. He's almost silent as your fingers tighten around him except for a few strangled gasps that slip through.

You can feel Levi’s dick throb as his pace grows frantic, pushing you into the pillows like he can nestle any deeper. There's a hazy look in his eyes, partially obscured by the sweaty smear of his bangs. He's so cute it makes your grip loosen, bringing a pretty flush to his cheeks as blood rushes to his head. All that extra oxygen makes him whimper as he begins to spill out inside of you.

"Shi- Fuck I'm cumming." Levi's hands tighten around your waist as his thrusts become stunted and sloppier. His groans go straight to your pussy and the next swipe of his tail sends you over the edge. Your hips buck to meet him halfway as his slick begins to leak out of you. His cum glows a pale blue, running out as you tighten on his cock.

This time, you don't stop his kisses. Your fingernails scratch through the hair at the base of his neck, curling and tugging on it harsher than you mean to. The roll of his hips doesn't stop until you're both shaking and oversensitive. His breathing is heavy and getting slower as he comes to a stop.

Levi's breathing almost stops too when he looks down at the mess. "I'm sorry." His face pales as he pulls out of you. Rivulets of his release drip out, glossy and translucent to leave a cool shine to any skin it got smeared on. Your underwear is stretched to floss, sticking into place between your soaked pussy lips when your thighs snap shut. The love bites he left are beginning to darken as well, threatening to stain various shades of red and purple. "Like really seriously sorry."

A/N- nite then <3

#obey me leviathan #obey me levi x reader #obey me levi smut #obey me levi x mc #obey me smut #leviathan x reader #obey me

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xxsugarbonesxx · 7 months

Text

Mi Valentín

Tags: full nelson, butt job, head (m receiving), fingering, hand job, groping, something about free use??? semi public sex porn WITH plot

no use of y/n afab!reader, reader has a fattie sorry but i don't make the rules 😮‍💨😔

TW!!! I am NOT a writer!! This is just something I do for funsies so don't expect much lol

She’s a beefy one so buckle up

Valentine's day is your absolute favorite holiday. A whole mushy gushy day dedicated to showing your significant other, or your friends or yourself to how much you love them and appreciate them. An excuse to dress up and go out, excessive chocolate consumption and give gifts. But, unfortunately, your beloved husband thought otherwise.

He never liked Valentine's Day, and he had thousands of excuses too. “Why is one day out of the whole year meant to show your love when I do it all year long?” Miguel said, rolling his eyes as he chopped vegetables for dinner. It’s not like he didn’t spoil you on Valentine's day, he always took you out to a nice restaurant for dinner and got you some gifts. But he was missing the whole entire point!

“Drop it amor, I’m plenty romantic as is. Remember when I took you out to that hotel and we spent the night away from the kids?” Miguel asked, his go to excuse when you brought this topic up. He turned to face you, one hand on the counter and the other holding the knife. He had an apron on, with ‘Milfin’ Ain’t Easy’ printed on the chest. You decided it was best not to question, said apron and moved on.

“But Miggy, it’s my favorite holiday. Can’t you not be so cynical for one in your life and humor that your wife enjoys something?” You said, crossing your arms under your chest. He just snorted and continued with his cooking, you scrunch your face and turn your heel, deciding you're not gonna give him the satisfaction of your presence, you leave to go find something to keep yourself occupied or just pout while you wait for dinner.

“You know it’s a dumb holiday, mi vida. It’s like how birthdays were invented by greeting card companies to make more money.” Miguel teased as he sat down in bed next to you after dinner.

You frown and roll on your side with your back facing him to let him know how upset you are with him. He sighed and chuckled, he cuddled up against you so he was big spooning you. He ran his calloused palm over your bare leg. “Don’t be like that, mamás. You know I love you, but I just can’t get behind a holiday that’s supposed to be about showing love since I already do that everyday for you,” He pouted, kissing your cheek and patting your butt.

You sighed and sat up, “Okay, you know what. You’re right, you already do so much for me. I guess it’s a little selfish to ask for more. I just get jealous sometimes, of all my girlfriends who always talk about their partners and how romantic their Valentine’s Day is…” You admitted, it sounded silly when you say it out loud. It embarrassed you, you have an amazing husband who gave you two beautiful daughters and here you are, ungrateful all because of FOMO.

“It’s alright, I know what you mean…but let’s not focus on that. I promised we’d never go to bed mad at each other. And we’ve had a long day, hmm? How about we get to sleep now? Since we’ve got a big week ahead of us,” Miguel asked, kissing your collarbone, he was such a smooth talker it drove you up the wall sometimes. But you nodded, kissing him back and curling up with him in bed.

Little did you know he’s been scheming.

One week ‘til V-day.

You let go of the whole Valentine’s Day thing, you were embarrassed about getting so worked up about the situation. You got home late from work, Miguel was already gone to watch Gabriela’s soccer practice and he took the baby with him. You had the whole house to yourself, you sat on the edge of the bed. Sighing as you take off your earrings and heels, you notice something on your nightstand.

You look to see a fuzzy little lion plushie with a fancy red ribbon tied around his neck. You smiled softly and picked it up, it was soft in your palms and smelt like strawberries.

It was obvious that it was from Miguel, you set it down on the bed and finished getting out of your work clothes. After a nice shower, you put on some cozy clothes and flop onto the bed. The house was clean and there were no chores to do so you got to relax, you sat in bed watching a movie with your new bed buddy. You hugged it to your chest, breathing in the strawberry scented mane.

Miguel came home with the girls a bit after your movie ended, Gabriela skipped into the house with her baby hairs stuck to her forehead from sweat and the remnants of chocolate ice cream on her cheeks. You usher her into the bathroom for her bath before finding Miguel. You wrap your arms around his neck and stand on the tips of your toes to give him a quick kiss.

“What was that for?” He chuckled, his hand on the small of your back, the baby on his hip.

“Just a kiss, I saw that stuffy.” You smiled and shrugged, looking up at him through your lashes. “I love him, but you didn’t need to get me anything…”

“I know that, I just saw it when I was at the store and thought you’d like it sooo…” He said, his hand snaking up the small of your back to roll his fingers through your hair before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Gracias guapo,” You coo, leaning into him for one more quick kiss before pulling away to give Gabriela her bath.

Five days ‘til V-day.

You and Gabriela sat at the kitchen table while Miguel was at work. With baby Esther on your lap, the three of you were hard at work making Miguel his Valentine’s Day present. Since he was always so low key for the holiday, you would do the same. Opting for something cuter and simple that also included the girls.

You already had a hand print of Miguel’s huge, paw-ish hand from an old craft Gabriela made when she was in kindey. You cut out a nice square of paper around the hand print, you carefully painted your own palm and fingers with a soft pink. You pressed your hand over his painted hand print.

Next was Gabriela, you painted her hand with a slightly darker pink color and pressed it over your hand print once it was dry. Then Esther when Gabriela’s handprint dried, you used a baby safe paint that was a darker pink color then Gabriela’s. You pressed the baby’s palm gently over her sisters. So it was papa Miguel’s big black hand print, your smaller light pink hand print, Gabriela’s little hand and then Esther’s teeny tiny hand.

It was perfect, a cute little card from all his girls for Valentines. You let Gabriela paint a couple pink hearts on it and sign it and it was perfect. You take it to write a lovey dovey message on the back and tuck it away in your nightstand once it was completely dry for the fourteenth.

Three days ‘til V-day.

You looked awful, you tripped in the snow as you hiked your work parking lot to get to your car in front of your boss. When you finally got up out of the slush, you got your hair caught in a branch. Tangling it with leaves and sticks, finally you got home.

You trudge up the driveway, it has been snowing and raining all day long. You hated the cold winter weather in Nueva York, you just had to wear heels today as you took big steps over the slush. You finally made it inside the warm apartment, taking a deep breath, your shoulders relaxed. The girls are in the living room watching Bluey with Miguel cooking in the kitchen. You kiss the girl's forehead hello and wobble deeper into the warm kitchen.

“Hey mamás, how—woof, what happened to you?” Miguel half laughed, pulling his oven mitts off his huge hands. Today he’s wearing a green apron with ‘Besame soy Irlandés’ printed on the chest.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” You mumbled, brushing the leaves out of your hair. Your whole front is soaked, there was some sort of ice or snow in your bra and your makeup smeared from crying in your car.

“Oye, poor mami.” He cooed, wrapping his big arms around your waist and hugging you to his chest. He held you tight, kissing the side of your face.

He helped you untangle your hair and get out of your soaked clothes. He drew a warm bath with bath salts and bubbles, he washed your hair for you once you were in the water. His big calloused hands rubbing your shoulders as he pecked your cheek. His chest pressed against your back, his hand snaked down into the water in front of you. He peppered the side of your face with gentle kisses as he gently rubbed your core with his pointer and middle fingers. His wedding ring was cool against your inner thighs, his other hand cupped your left breast. Massaging it softly, his thumb grazing over your perked nipples.

His other hand cupped your sweet pussy, his fingers dipping in between your soft folds and pushing into your wet hole. “My poor girl, I’m sorry your day sucked.” He whispered into the shell of your ear, you bit down onto your bottom lip. Holding back whines as he gently begins to pump his fingers slowly, your hands find the edges of the bathtub to grip. Your head rolls back, your eyes shut as a little gasp escapes your soft lips. He smiled into the dip of your neck, still playing with your tits.

His surprisingly tender lips graze up over your neck for an open mouth kiss, catching your wines and huffs in his mouth. You feel his lips twitch into a little smirk, that smug bastard is always so proud of himself. He pulled away, you whined from the emptiness that filled your soft walls now that he took his fingers out, but you immediately perked up when you heard him take his belt off from the loops.

Miguel stood up and over to the side of the tub, he slipped his semi hard cock from his boxers. He looked down at you as he pumped his huge hand over his girth, he held you face with his other hand, his thumb rubbing back and forth on your bottom lip. His way of silently telling you to ‘open’.

You obediently part your pretty lips, he slapped his red tip onto your tongue. He was now fully hard, his cock was perfect. His member is a little darker than his brown skinned body, at least eight to eight and a half inches long. Maybe even ten on a really good day. It was girthy too, with a fat vein on the side of it, it curved up slightly, his groin perfectly shaven besides the happy trail over the base of his length. His balls were heavy, you took him in your mouth. Since he was so big, you always struggled to take him completely.

You manage to get a good four inches in and start to bob your head, you look up at him through your lashes. It hasn't even been in you long, but you were already cock drunk. He instinctively began to roll his hips into your jaw, the bathroom filled with lewd squelching, moans, and groans. You gag and your eyes roll back.

Just when things started to get good, the baby screeched downstairs in the living room. Miguel sighed and threw his head back dramatically, he pulled away and pulled his slacks back up

over his hips. You frown and pout, he chuckles and bends down to kiss your forehead. “Lo siento, mi corazón…” He muttered, pulling away to get back downstairs to make sure the girls didn’t kill each other.

You groan a little and sink a little deeper into the warm water.

One day ‘til V-day.

You had actually forgotten all about Valentine’s Day. The girls and work had made you forget all about it. You were sitting at your desk at work, typing and scribbling down notes for later when one of your colleagues told you that there was something at the front desk for you. Curious, you go to check on whatever goodie or package was delivered to you. You never get these sorts of things, you couldn't help but be excited as all the possibilities ran through your head. What the receptionist handed you was better than anything you could have imagined.

The front desk person handed you ramo buchon. One hundred pink and white roses were arranged and wrapped, surrounded by matching pink and white baby’s breath blooms tied together by a ribbon. A little white teddy bear with a ribbon and tag sat in the center of the buchon, the tag signed by your secret admirer. It didn’t take long to figure out who said secret admirer was, since it was Miguel’s handwriting.

You looked at the gorgeous flowers for the majority of your shift, making sure to send Miguel a little ‘I love you’ text to show your appreciation. Even though he played dumb when you got home, insisting that it wasn’t him and someone else must have sent it. He hugged you tight, muttering under his breath how he’s gonna teach that ‘son of a glitch’ a lesson for daring to make a move on his woman when he finds out who sent it to you. Though you could hear the smile in his voice.

“When I find them, I’ll teach them a lesson they soon won’t forget for thinking he can just make a move on my woman and get away with it.” Miguel scoffed, kissing the crown of your head. “I’ll kill him dead,” He said when you chuckled.

“You hear me, mariposa? There are some things as a man I simply cannot stand for. And when another man thinks he can have what's mine. And you are mine.” He continued, his forehead pressed against yours as he spoke. “My woman, my baby mama, mine mine mine.”

He repeated that mantra throughout the night, you curled up against him in bed. Him kissing your forehead with his hands rubbing your sides. Going up and down the dips and valleys of your body. You couldn’t help but smile, your face pressed against his neck. “My sweet mujer,” He sighed dreamily. Peppering your pretty face with gentle kisses.

“Did you like the buchon though?” He asked between smooches. You couldn’t help but giggle, squeezing your dear husband's hand gently and nodded. Your legs tangling with his, the blankets pulled up over to their shoulders. It was nice and cozy in their little blanket cocoon. Miguel needed a weighted blanket in the winters, that coupled with the fuzzy white tiger blanket on top of it made you both nice and warm.

“Sí, sí. Ellos tienen buen gusto,” You reassure him with a smile and a peck on the cheek. He looked satisfied with that answer.

Valentine’s Day.

You woke up snuggled up in the warm bed with Miguel. His alarm went off weirdly early, you blinked, your eyes crusty in the morning, yawning and stretching your arms over your head. Miguel stirred as you sat up, his hands over your lap, you arch your back to stretch. His almond eyes slowly opened and glanced up at you. He smiled into your waist but didn’t move, his morning wood pressing into your plush thigh.

You look down at his hidden face then down into his lap. You smile to yourself and lay back down next to him, your hand snaking down underneath the covers. Already thinking up so many naughty thoughts, tracing down his tummy, following his happy trail, your fingertips teasing the waistband of his sweatpants. He grunted a little as you gently began to stroke his length. You squeezed gently, creating a delicious pressure.

He finally ‘woke up’, grumbling into the crook of your neck. Rolling his hips back and forth into your hand. You chuckled, looking back over him. You press a little kiss to his nose, “good morning, quapo.” You purr into his ear. This was his favorite way of waking up, your hands on his body. Whether you stroked or sucked, his eyes rolled back and toes curled before waking.

“Good morning, mariposa, you slept well?” He muttered into your neck, his hand over your chest. He kneaded your pretty tits in his big hands and sighed dreamily.

“I did,” You answer, you roll your palm over his angry red tip. Pearly beads of pre cum dribble out of the head onto your hand. You scoop it up in your fingers, pulling your hand away to taste it. His cum was sweet with a bit of salty, you loved the feeling of his warm seed on your tongue. And he loved seeing you enjoy it, he watched your lap up his pre, a smug look on his handsome face as you swallowed.

Just when you reached to finish the job, he sat up. His erect cock twitching right in front of your face, you were mesmerized. Jesus, you were just a simp. “Gabri could just walk i-” You started, he was already reaching to lock your bedroom door. He grabbed you by your waist and flipped you onto your stomach. He reaches into his nightstand drawer to grab something. You look over your shoulder as he ripped your pajama shorts and panties off your body, making you giggle.

He drizzled massage oil on your bare ass, his calloused palms ran over your buttcheeks. You buried your face into the pillows, giggling like a giddy schoolgirl to yourself. He pressed his nose into your hair, breathing in your shampoo, letting out a shuddering sigh, he sat back up on his knees behind you.

He dipped his ring and middle finger between your plush inner thighs, spreading the warm oil over your already wet pussy lips. You shiver but stay as still as possible for him, he bent over your pretty body. Pressing kisses onto your lower back. Muttering to himself as his fingers slip into your slits folds, your velvet walls clenching his long digits. You whine and cuss under your breath as he makes a scissoring motion with his fingers.

“Relax, mamás, can’t have you clenching my dick off.” He chuckled breathily in your ear, making you groan a little. You did your best not to clench on his fingers so hard, you rolled your shoulders and breathed deeply. Burying your face into the silky pillows, you whine as he begins to rock you by pumping his fingers into your weeping hole. Your breath shudders as his free hand down your back to asscheeks, squeezing gently and smacking to make you squeal.

“Oye,” You hiss, looking back at him over your shoulder, furrowing your eyebrows. He snickered like a kid and went back to pumping fingers. It didn’t take long till your orgasm, it never took Miguel too long to get you to cum. Your nectar pooled in his palm, he smirked proudly, licking

your cum off his hand. You whimper in shame, hiding your red face in the pillows. He chuckled cruelly before slapping his now fully erect member over your thick ass. You squeak as you watch his big hands grab the headboard above you and he begins to hump like a bitch in heat.

He sat on your calves on his knees, his thighs on either side of your hips. The massage oil acts as a lubricant for him to slide his fat cock between your buttcheeks easier. You whine into the pillows, your shoulders hunching and back arching.

You let out a soft moan as his shaft dragged over your holes over and over again, making you shiver in pleasure. He let out a soft, satisfied sigh as he took you from behind. You just knew that the smug bastard had a satisfied look plastered all over his face as he humped, spanked and slapped your poor, poor, red ass.

He grabbed and groped, before pulling off of you completely. Miguel took his shaft in his paw-ish hand, dragging his leaking tip to your weeping entrance.

“Miggy…” You whine, it's been too long since you’ve had him all to yourself. Whether it be your respective jobs, family and taking care of two kids under ten. You miss the feeling of him stretching you out, you miss the burn. You missed him making it hard for you to walk the next day, and him eating you out like a starved man, repeating the phrase ‘I’m sorry,’ over and over again as an apology as he palmed his dick.

You missed the burn and the after care and him making you breakfast for you afterwards. His cock slipped inside, not even three inches at first just to get you ready. His fingers stretched you out best he could, but he was getting impatient, and he needed to feel his pretty girl. His hands drifted off the headboard to either side of your head on the bed.

Sloooowly, he pushes deeper, you choke back all your noises. You look over at the nightstand on Miguel's side of the bed at the alarm clock, because you apparently married an old man. It was a little after five in the morning, he usually sets his alarm for six, that smug bastard set it early to squeeze a Valentines day quickie before work.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the plap plap plap of his hips hitting your ass and his tip kissing your cervix and the low creaks of your shared mattress. You slap your hand over your mouth, his big hands tighten around the sheets he was clenching. The massage oil and both of your sweat rolled off of eachother, pooling on the bed below you, but you’re too full to care. His length filled you up so good, that you couldn’t think to care about the fact you’re ruining your sheets.

“Yes…” You whine, your shaky hands clinging to the sheets as he pounds into you.

Miguel laid his body over yours as he slowly bucked into you, you almost preferred it when he was pounding into your poor, abused pussy since then he wasn’t torturing you with slow, agonizing strokes. His lips pressed into your ear, his eyes glazed over as he grunted and huffed into the shell of your ear, you loved how vocal he was. How he’d react to your body, how'd he moan and praise you.

His arm slithered under your neck, pressing you into a headlock as he rutted against your soft walls. His nose buried into your hair, breathing in your cocoa butter shampoo. He tightened his grip on you until your cheek was pressed up against his bicep, his sweat, musk and the remnants of his cologne from yesterday made you slick.

A knot formed in the pit of your belly, his pre mixed with the oils and your slick, coating the sheets with liquids. You really should have put a towel down…-

“So wet, you like that, don't you?" He growled, his voice deep and husky as he took you from behind. He couldn't resist, he couldn't fight it. He was under your control, he was yours to do with as you pleased. He always portrayed himself as the head of the household, el jefe, but it was a different story once the girls were in bed and the door was locked. He was still very much the dominant, though your pleasure was his priority. He wanted you to be pleased and happy with him above anything else.

“Mhm…feels, fuck, so good…” You mewl, your hips swaying side to side as he slowly rolled his hips into you, your warm walls clenching him. He pulled out until only his tip was in, before pounding back in. Your sweet nectar flowed from your core, you writhed and silently screamed into the pillows. Miguel kept rutting before quickly pulling out, his hot cum spilling down the small of your back.

He let out a satisfied sigh and flopped down on the bed next to you. The giant laid face down next to you, groaning.

“Jesus, you’re not that old.” You choke out after a minute of basking in each other's sweaty afterglow. “You’re fine,” You grumble, nudging his calf with your foot.

“I’m just warming down, gimme a minute.” He gruffed, tilting his head to stick his tongue out at you and scrunching his nose. “Bleh,”

“Oh my god, you’re just like Gabriela.” You snicker, rolling on your back to stretch, and looking over his body. Miguel was on his stomach, one of his long legs off the bed as he pressed his face into his pillow. You can’t help but look at him with disgust.

“You have a ridiculously nice ass for a man.” You pout.

“Don’t be jelly,” he scoffed playfully.

“Did Gabriela teach you that word?”

“What, ‘jelly’?” He asked and you nod. “Oh please, I’m well educated in the field of slang. I know about what the kids are saying, ‘on fleek’, ‘yeet’, ‘lit’, you name it. You married a very educated man, lucky you~”

“I’ve never heard anyone say that in literal years…”

“Who?”

“Hmm?”

“Asked.” He said proudly, you let out a groan. This was just middle school all over again.

“Okay, okay, I’m done now, mariposa. I promise.” Miguel giggled, grunting a little before rolling onto his back next to you. He snakes a big hand over you and pulls you atop of him.

“This is disgusting,”

“I didn’t even-!” “The sheets, and us. I should get in the shower…” You grumbled, he wrapped his hands around your waist, pulling you back down to him as you sat up. Your cheek smushed up to his firm pecs.

“Two more minutes,” He promised, patting your sticky back.

You’ve been getting ready for what felt like hours, your makeup, shoes, hair, jewelry, clothes, accessories. Maybe you were spoiled…sat on the floor of your walk-in closet in nothing but your pretty lingerie, your arms crossed under your chest, you mull over your options for the perfect outfit for your and Miguel’s date tonight.

You check the time on your phone and sigh, deciding to take your chances with that one bodycon cami dress you got months ago. It was cute, I guess. You quickly finish getting ready, your finishing touch being a pretty little necklace with a pendant with the letter M engraved into it.

The girls were shipped off to your parents house for the night, it was just you two. He cooed and crooned over you, showering you with gifts and peppering your pretty face with kisses. Making your face a little red from his stubble brushing over your cheeks, he booked a nice restaurant nearby for the two of you and came back home for Valentine's Day sex.

After years of marriage and having kids, of course things would often fall into a routine. But after all his gifts and gushing, maybe things won't be so uniform tonight.

The dinner was fine…your alfredo pasta was good so far, and the wine was nice. But Miguel was acting strange ever since you woke him up. He's been red in the face and nervous, which was weird since he was usually so confident and outspoken.

He was complaining about the wine being expensive, you look up from your pasta to count his forehead creases.

“It’s like I have to hunt a waiter down for a bottle of wine, wine that's nearly two-hundred dollars. Ridiculous…” He grumbled, you can’t help but roll your eyes as he obnoxiously waved at a waiter.

“Miggy, please stop. You’re acting like my mother.” You mumble after he spoke to the waiter, you watch the poor twenty something year old disappear into the kitchen to get that bottle.

“Oh please, even I wouldn’t stoop that low.” Miguel scoffed, poking his food with the prongs of his fork like Gabriela did when she didn’t want to eat her dinner and she’d stall for sympathy. You tried making conversation, when that doesn’t really seem to work, something more devious appears in your smile as a sudden idea comes to mind.

Of course, you’d know how to get him to relax. You prided yourself with that, so you set your little plan to action. You make sure no one in the restaurant was looking in your general direction, you pick up your salad fork, a type fork you may have used twice in your life, and drop it on the fancy dark wood floors of the restaurant. Which, in turn, makes the most loud and annoying ‘ting’ sound, Miguel gives you a look as you freeze.

“Gosh, clumsy me~” You quickly reassess, making sure no one is looking, you duck to your knees to pick up the fork that somehow got almost completely under the table. It was one of those circular tables with a long red cloth draped on it to the floor. You sneak underneath without anyone suspecting a th-

“What are you doing?” Miguel calmly asks, though you can tell by his tone he’s the human equivalent to a donkey on the edge.

“I’m grabbing my fork,” You answer, though you have passed the fork, crawling on your hands and knees, you make a beeline to your manspreading husband. You rest your chin on the edge of the chair, pressing your soft lips for a fat kiss on his bulge. He jolts when you do, his hands flying to cover his crotch.

“A-amor!” Miguel yelped, his knees hitting the table. Making his wine glass fall, he quickly moved to pick it back up. Giving you just enough time to sloppily unbuckle his belt and pull his slacks down just enough to pull his semi-hard cock out, the table cloth covering his lap up. You smile to yourself before licking your palms to stroke him with both your hands.

Once he was completely hard in your soft hands, you took his tip in your mouth. Kitten licking it as you stroked with one hand and kneaded his balls with the other. He was trying (and failing) to mask his whimpers and squeaks by sipping his wine.

“So pretty~” You cooed, slapping his fat cock over your tongue. His pre dripped down his aching shaft from his slit, which you of course greedily lick up. Every noise Miguel made went straight to your sopping pussy, which you were grinding up and down his dress shoe. He grunted, how rude, you’re polishing his cock and shoes, and he dares to complain?

You take a solid four inches into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. You wish you could look at his pretty face as he groans and grunts, you nod your head, attempting to fit more into your mouth.

Relaxing your throat, you take a deep breath in through your nose and breath back out slowly before taking him all the way to his base. Your nose nestles into his trimmed pubic hair while your hands snake forward to dip back into his boxers to give his balls a squeeze. Your drool and his pre dripped from your soft lips and down his balls.

Miguel pressed his palm into his lips, his eyes squeezed shut. His free hand on the crown of your head, his fingers tangled with your hair as he guided you. His thighs shuddered, doing everything in his power to not moan loudly in a crowded restaurant on Valentines day. You try to bob your head but he keeps you down on his cock.

He huffed and his hips buckled to push deeper into you, you gag and tears roll down your cheeks. It only took a few more seconds as hot, white ropes shot down your throat and warmed your belly. You swallow quickly, your moans vibrate against him as you ride him through his orgasm.

Only when you hear that whimper do you finally slide off of him. Your lips leave the tip with a lewd pop. You give his cock a sweet little kiss, you dry your tears and climb back into your seat, placing your fork back on the table where it belongs with a satisfied smile. He wasn’t glaring anymore, he looks much more relaxed now…

Just from the look alone tells you that you’re in for it when you get home.

Before Miguel could say a thing, the waiter zips back over to the table to come check up on your dinner. He was about to leave when he paused.

“You’ve got some alfredo sauce on your lips, ma’am.” The waiter said, pointing to his own lips. You squeak out a quick ‘oh!’ and dab your lips with your napkin. Wiping off the ‘alfredo sauce’ as the waiter ran off to another table.

“Don’t,” You sighed, Miguel was smirking, resting his head on his palm. He was relaxed now, and was giggly from the alfredo sauce comment.

“I didn’t even say anything~ though you do look cute with alfredo sauce on your lip.” Miguel said sweetly, swirling his wine glass to watch the red liquid slosh in the cup before raising it to his lip to take a sip. His crimson eyes trained on you. Giving you a look that made your previously soaked panties soaking wet and sticking to your cunt.

“Though you are very much still in trouble.”

Your heel made you slip on the icy doorstep, Miguel’s hand on your waist hoisted you upright before you could fall into the snow. “Careful~” He tutted smugly, unlocking the door for you and you rushed inside the warm home.

Both you and Miguel had been drinking, you from the embarrassing alfredo sauce incident and Miguel because he was trying to loosen up. You’re both tipsy and stumbling into the kitchen, you go to the sink to pour yourself a big glass of water to sober up. Just as you gulp down the last sip, Miguel comes up behind you, his big, calloused hands resting on your shoulders, squeezing gently.

His soft lips find your jaw, he massages your shoulders. The wine made him tipsy and went straight to his dick. Your back pressed against his chest and stomach, your hands on the cool surface of the kitchen counter. Signing softly and nearly letting a moan slip as his hands travel down from your shoulders to rub your clothed breast.

You grip the counter, your shoulders going slack and your back involuntary arching. His thumbs brushing over your hardening nipples, you feel his cock hardening from underneath his slacks as he slowly grinds on you. His lips still on your jaw, the tip of his tongue slipping from his lips to press against your soft skin.

Humping your plump ass and squeezing your plush tits was heaven to Miguel, the only thing missing was his cock buried deep into your gushing cunt.

Tipsy, he decided that’s what he needed, he wrapped a beefy arm around your waist and hoisted you up over his shoulder.

“Miguel!” You squealed, kicking your feet as you slowly began to sober up. He didn’t say anything, just grunting and his hand falling from the small of your back to your butt, pinching the fat to tell you to quiet down. He carried you with ease up the stairs, down the hallway to your shared bedroom.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs and flopped you down on your back onto the blankets and pillows. You landed back with a squeak of the mattress, your legs dangling off the edge as he straddled your his. His lips crashed into yours, his cheeks painted in a pink hue, his big hands ran up and down your sides

You parted your lips, catching your whines and huffs in his mouth as he pressed your beefy body into you. Trapping you to the bed with his hands, he leaned over you, his kisses searing as he held your wrists up over your head to keep you underneath him.

When he got tipsy, he wouldn’t be bothered by foreplay. He needed to get right to the good part, his kisses got hungrier and needier with every second that passed. His hands rubbed down your sides, sliding your dress off your body. His eyes wandered and quickly widening when he saw your lack of anything under your dress.

You went rogue on him, you ditched your lingerie in the restaurant bathroom, since your panties were soaked and uncomfortable, and because you too wanted to get to the main event as soon as possible~ He stripped and sat down on the edge of the bed with you on his lap in his favorite position, full nelson. Your legs bent up to fold you in half, your knees on either side of your head with his arms bending you back with his fingers locked with each other behind your neck. It was sort of uncomfortable, but the second he moved his hips, you forgot all about it.

He thrusted sloppily into you, you threw you back on his shoulder almost immediately as his tip practically kissed your womb the first thrust. He didn't stretch you out prior, the burn was enough to make you scream. His hips jutted up and down, your ass slapping down against his pelvis. Filling your bedroom with the sweat slaps of skin hitting skin and your lewd moans.

Your eyes flick up and cross, he’s been at it for hours it feels like when he actually just started.

“Please, Miggy,” You mewled in his ear. He ignored you, peering over your shoulder to watch your pretty titties bounce from how he was rocking you. Miguel looked angry, like he usually did during sex. Grabbing your hair he roughly pulls making your back arch suddenly “Fucking ride it,” he commanded in a harsh tone.

Feeling him throb in you, you're ready for more, slowly start raising your hips and bringing yourself down the best you could when you squished and bent into the position. You felt the knot in the pit of your tummy tightening as he speared into you, a ring of cream wrapped around the base of his angry, twitching cock.

All night long, the man fucked you like a fleshlight. Making you cry tears of pleasure and scream his name for all your neighbors to hear. Your knot snapped for what felt like the umpteenth time, your orgasm ripped through you in waves.

That didn’t stop him though, he’s fucking you like he’s trying to mold your gummy walls to fit his, and only his cock.

Painting your womb white with ribbons of hot cum for the sixth time, he finally let’s go. His hands slightly raised as if admitting defeat as his chest rose and fell. Sweat rolling down his body as you crawl onto the bed to try to cool down. He falls down on his stomach next to you on his side of the bed.

You poor thing have been put through the wringer, you’ve came too many times to count, been came in too many times to count, cried, screamed and moaned. Your throat and poor, slutty, pussy been played with and fucked ruthlessly. Your eyes are half lidded when Miguel rolled onto his side to face you.

“Amor…?” Miguel whispered, his voice hoarse.

“Hmm?”

“I need to admit something…I sent you the ramo buchon, even though I told you that your secret admirer sent it to you.” He admitted sheepishly, like he was an embarrassed kid owning up to taking a cookie. It made you chuckle sleepily.

“Yeah…I had a hunch,” You smiled, taking his hand in yours and running your thumb over his knuckles. He seems genuinely surprised you knew it was him.

“How…-you know what, never mind, mariposa. Happy Valentine's Day to the loveliest girl in the whole multiverse.” He smiled sweetly, bringing your hand to his lips and kissed it softly.

“Thank you, mi Valentín.”

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wickedscribbles · 1 month

Text

if i get too loud you can shut my mouth: ch. 1

Masterlist Ch. 2 Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Logan Howlett/Wolverine

Rating: Explicit

Tags: descriptions of violence, excessive swearing, fourth wall breaks, yearning, bridgerton season 3 spoilers, sexual tension

Word Count: 2.4K

If you like what I write and can afford to do so, please consider buying me a coffee! It would be much appreciated.

It feels like it took them ten years to get here.

In reality, it was a little less than half a year, but still – fuck.

Wade might not be two hundred years old, enduring some endless drag of time like Logan has, but he knows that every day spent orbiting one another and pretending like things weren’t boiling with unspoken tension was agonizing. Seeing Logan in those fucking flannels was agonizing. Watching him doze off on the couch. Catching the way his face softened when he smiled, ruffling Mary Puppins’ ears.

It was all such a pain in the ass.

(Thankfully, not literally, this time. Al would kill him if he brought another fight into the apartment. Even if she couldn’t see bloodstains all over the carpet, she’d sure as hell know when she stepped on one.) And Wade understood – really he did. He could see through Logan’s prickly act the second he met him in that bar. Even with what they’d been through to save the current timeline they now both resided in, Logan felt some deep-rooted urge to distance himself from people. He didn’t want to hurt anyone else. Didn’t think he had it in him to lose anyone he got close to again. That kind of cycle was hard to break.

They saw one another at the occasional get-together, now held at Al and Peter’s place. With Wade throwing himself back into mercenary work and the money getting better, that meant things inevitably getting more dangerous, so now he bunked in a one bedroom with the only girl in his life willing to put her tongue down his throat every hour of the day. That girl also sometimes threw up after eating her kibble too fast in the morning, but hey. We all have our problems.

But if Wade ever tried to hang around when the night was winding down – or if he extended an invitation to just Logan – things got sketchy. He’d always mutter some excuse about work – the old man was getting his hands dirty as a mechanic, apparently, but Wade had his resources and heard more than a few stories about the Wolverine cropping up as the months passed.

And Wade can feel it. That pulling away, that distance. Whether it’s there because Logan actually feels any sort of sense of connection between them, or because he can’t stand Wade and wants him to leave him the fuck alone, Wade can’t really tell. When he’s not in a fight, Logan’s so fucking quiet. Keeps to himself so much.

He tries not to push. The whole thing with Vanessa went south again, fast. Because he either pushes too hard, or not enough, and fuck if he can ever find a solid in between.

Spring slides into summer, sweltering.

Wish we could just walk around in a g-string when it’s fuck me degrees out here, right?

Wade sends the text to Logan one insufferable July afternoon, crouched in an abandoned warehouse. He never expects a reply. The man doesn’t exactly give off “knows how to text” energy. But hours later, his phone vibrates.

You’re nasty

Wade grins. “Exactly, big guy.”

A stupid, eager part of him can’t help but hope a little harder, after that. He could’ve just ignored the text entirely. But this was something.

He digs in his heels, thinking of anything and everything to hound the man about throughout his day.

You ever think about what these goonies are jerking it to before you cut their heads off?

Stupid shit, totally off the top of his head.

Still hotter than absolute shit, is this why you only go out in the suit at night? Think I can feel my balls boiling

Sometimes he’d get an answer, sometimes not. Either way, it was typically a short response. (Thank fuck he didn’t text like a boomer – Logan was hot, but that might have been the end for Wade’s boner regardless.)

Puppins says she misses you :(

(Don’t tell her but you’re nicer to cuddle with)

Nothing to that one. Alone in his apartment, he sighs. Mary Puppins groans her sympathy and snuggles closer into his chest.

—---------

A little over a month later, there’s an urgent knock on the door.

More like a banging.

Cops is Wade’s first half-awake thought as he slings himself out of bed, already gripping the first gun he can get to. He stashes it in the pocket of his fuzzy ducky-patterned bathrobe, getting to the peephole.

Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit.

This is somehow worse than cops.

Wade unlocks the door and Logan pours himself in, dominating the frame and almost stumbling to get inside. His eyes are wild, skin glistening with sweat. He still wearing that stupid fucking flannel, light brown and dark blue, the sleeves pushed up to the elbow like he’s personally asking Wade to fuck him.

He huffs out a few heavy breaths, blinking at the hush of Wade’s apartment like he isn’t quite understanding it.

“Hey, princess,” Wade offers up to break the silence. “You, uh, coming over for the weekly rewatch of Bridgerton? I mean, I already skipped to the good parts, but we can always –

Logan’s hand closes over his windpipe so fast that the rest of the sentence vanishes in a wheeze. Pleasure blooms somewhere in the back of Wade’s brain, and he’s almost certain that he’s hard as he’s backed up against the refrigerator. Puppins only raises her head from the dog bed to look between them, her tail wagging frantically.

“What the fuck,” Logan grits out. “You called me.”

He sort of had. After a few ignored texts, Wade’s thumb had fumbled the CALL button. There’d been a mild rush of panic before the usual tossing and turning that led him to sleep. To be honest, he didn’t even think Logan would catch that. And he definitely didn’t think that it would lead to a pissed off Wolverine storming his living space at 2 a.m.

“Sure did,” he says cheerfully, once the fingers around his throat loosen somewhat. Wade holds up his hands, trying to look innocent. “Butterfingers. My mistake, peanut.”

A maelstrom of emotions flit over Logan’s face in an instant. He drops Wade, his expression settling on something that the other man can’t read. At last he shakes his head, sighing, and turns back to the door.

“Sorry,” he says. “Sorry, then, I’ll just…”

Dude looks like a fucking kicked puppy. A tired kicked puppy that’s lived longer than most people would care to.

“Aww, c’mon,” Wade urges.

It’s hard to look sexy with a face like his, but he splays himself back against the fridge, bathrobe falling back a little to reveal what’s definitely still hard in those boxer shorts.

“When’s the last time we really hung out, huh? Mano a mano? Not since the potential end of the world – we really could watch Bridgerton, you know.”

Wade doesn’t miss the quickest flick of Logan’s eyes down to his crotch. Ohoho. Gotcha, bub.

“I don’t even know what the hell that is,” Logan growls, folding his arms.

His body language says arghhh no I’m so grumpy, don’t touch me, but his eyes are telling Wade everything he needs to know. They’re kind of nice, when he isn’t glaring at something. You know what he’s got? He’s got the deep brown eyes of a Golden Retriever.

And Wade wants to pet that puppy.

“Puppy play? Before we’ve even kissed? Girl you nasty,” Wade says out of nowhere, turning to an obscure corner of his apartment.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

Wade clears his throat, pushing his chest forward somewhat.

“Anyway. Puppins loves a good period romance but we can put on whatever, if you want to stay.”

Please stay.

“What do you normally watch when you’re lurking in your apartment after a long day at the shop?”

He delivers the end of that sentence with a light Southern twang. Logan doesn’t seem to appreciate it, but he relaxes ever so slightly. Swallows. Fuck. Wade can smell the work on him too, the grease and sweat of a long day. Gasoline. There’s a smudge right under Logan’s left eye, and he really, really wants to close the distance and touch the mark. Not knowing if doing so would temporarily lose him a couple of fingers, Wade stays where he is.

“...Home Improvement,” Logan says finally.

“Jesus Christ, you would,” Wade scoffs out. “I mean that as a compliment, sweetheart – if you looked me in the eye and told me you watched Dance Moms I would keel over, regeneration or no.”

It’s clear that Logan has no fucking clue what Dance Moms is either, and maybe that’s for the best. He shuffles from foot to foot, still seeming to be stuck between wanting to stay or go.

“It’s late. I should probably –”

“Wait,” Wade interrupts. “Wait. Can I just – ask something?”

Logan gives him a little shrug, like I think you’re going to anyway, so go for it.

He hesitates, biting at a thumbnail. There’s blood underneath it, and probably not his own. With a grimace, Wade lowers it again.

“What are we doing? With the texting and the avoiding and the –?” He moves his hands around in gentle circles. Logan doesn’t quite meet his eye, but Wade isn’t finished yet. “Y’know, you save the timeline with a guy, get niiiice and cozy in the back of a Honda Odyssey –”

Logan turns a shade of pink that they both know can’t be contributed to anger. “Listen, pal – when you’re fighting sometimes that just happens –”

“Oh, okay, buddy,” Wade continues, grinning. “I know it does, believe me, I’ve been as hard as vibranium for many a fight. But I’ve never curled up next to the guy who’s trying to kill me afterward and woken up with their lips on my forehead.”

It’s all true. After truly destroying his variant’s Honda Odyssey, Wade and Logan had finally exhausted themselves into a state of sleep. And even though he’d found himself restrained by a truly impressive seatbelt arrangement, he’d come to with the heat of the other man’s body pressed fully against his own.

Holding his breath, not daring to move a muscle, Wade had peeked out of one eye to confirm it. Yes, that was the Wolverine acting as his little spoon. Minutes or perhaps hours passed before Logan shifted in his sleep, his bottom lip pressed sloppily against the top of Wade’s head. His breath was warm there. Something about the comfort of that lulled him back to sleep.

Of course, he hadn’t dared breathe a word of that. They had important shit to do and a runtime of only two hours and seven minutes.

Oh, Wade fucking adores putting that look on Logan’s face. Even better with the tinge of pink to match. How many people can say that they’ve made the Wolverine blush? Well, how many living people?

“Shut up,” Logan splutters.

“No can do, princess,” Wade says, grinning wide. “I think we both know the truth when we hear it. Even if it’s hard. Not that that’s the only thing that’s hard around h –”

This time, Wade sees Logan coming and ducks. The door of his refrigerator crumples inward with a metallic sound, things tumbling around inside as they fall.

“Fuck, I just got that, you animal!” Wade complains as he watches the LED screen on the side of the thing crackle and die. He fumbles for the gun in his robe, unsure of whether or not he’ll need it. “Do you know how much a smart fridge costs?!”

Logan’s still coming after him, claws unextended but his face a storm. “Why do you need a TV on your fucking fridge?!”

“To watch Colin and Penelope make sweet, beautiful love after three seasons of sexual tension!”

He weighs up his options. If Logan wants to make this a fight, he can’t start with the gun. Better to have some sort of melee option so the rest of the building doesn’t panic – his tableside lamp is looking like the best way to go right now, even if it was a steal at the local thrift place and gives the whole place a beautiful ambiance.

But shit, he forgot that Logan is lightning fast as well as strong. The whole fucking package. One wrist caught in another iron tight grasp, then the other, and he finds himself being dragged to the nearest wall. Pinned there.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, Logan’s face close enough to lean in and touch. That smear of grease on his cheek. The crow’s feet around his eyes. His mouth. Fuck.

“We can’t,” Logan says, his voice softer than Wade’s ever heard it.

“You’re gonna say that to me while pinning me to the fucking wall? I–”

“Listen to me, jackass,” Logan cuts him off.

Fuck, he’s so warm. He’s like a radiator. If Wade could only lean in. He’s begging at this point.

“I don’t – it’s not that I haven’t thought about –”

“My succulent body meat?” Wade suggests.

“Shut the fuck up.” He sighs, exasperated. (Wade’s dick feels that way too. How much exposition can an author shove into one fanfiction before two characters actually fuck each other, Jesus Christ?) “I’ve thought about this. But you’ve got people, and you’ve already risked your life and mine to keep ‘em safe. I don’t wanna mess that up again.”

“A noble thought,” Wade concedes. “However, if anything does threaten my oh-so-treasured loved ones, you know I’ll be right there to kick that threat’s ass, right? And that being so horny for you twenty-four/seven is severely impacting my quality of life? The vet’s saying he might have to put me down.”

The tiniest smile tugs at the corner of Logan’s mouth. He ducks his head as he does, something shy and young about it. Something hot blooms in the bottom of Wade’s stomach, and for once, it’s not the ache of sex and need. It’s the major fucking crush he has on this man. Although, at this point, he is also so hard it hurts.

Logan’s eyes flit down again, noticing that particular fact when it jumps against his thigh.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Wade.”

“Not Jesus Christ, my friend. Marvel Jesus.”

“Yeah, no one ever said that but you.”

Logan leans in and kisses him like he’s wanted to do it just as long as Wade has.

#wickedscribbles #wickedscribbles ao3 #if i get too loud you can shut my mouth ao3 #deadpool x wolverine #deadpool x wolverine ao3 #deadpool 3 fanfic #deadpool x wolverine fic #poolverine #deadpool x wolverine smut #poolverine smut #deadclaws #logan howlett x wade wilson #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool #wolverine #deadpool fic #wolverine fic

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space-mango-company · 6 months

Text

Stranger | Chapter 3

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: none for this one, I think

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon What Canon

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Unedited for now! Holy moly, sorry for taking so long on this one. I was kinda drowning in uni work the past week. The next chapter should come sooner, I hope. Also just wanted to say thank you so much to those who take the time to comment!! I really really appreciate the kind words. You guys are super sweet. Mwa mwa.

The inky black fireworks exploded in the distance as you were led back into the underground chambers of the arena. Your eyes are relieved to escape the infrared sun. Heavy doors open for you once more. The na-Baron stands, chest exposed, skin slick with sweat under the artificial light. His blown-out eyes hone in on you as you enter. He makes his way to you holding the blood-stained handkerchief.

"Did you enjoy the show, my lady?" His chest heaves and you feel his heavy breaths as he leans into your ear, voice even more raspy, "Aren't you something, little hawk."

He holds the cloth up as if giving it to you but when you reach for the handkerchief he snatches it away.

You sigh and lift your veil, a sweet smile plastered on your face, "A most impressive demonstration, na-Baron. You are as formidable as they say."

Feyd-Rautha takes a moment to scan your face. He doesn't know what your game is but he wants to play.

His breathing has settled. He raises a hand to reach for your cheek but you move past him. You walk towards a table displaying knives laid over a cloth. You pick one up to examine. The blades remain uncleaned, the blood from earlier in the day already beginning to dry. You sense they will be kept that way.

"You have good form. Clean, precise," you say, holding the dagger in a reverse grip, edge out. "You enjoy it, don't you?"

From behind, you feel Feyd-Rautha close the distance between you once again.

"Perhaps you enjoy it a little too much," you turn to him, "I'm sure you let him disarm you on purpose. For the show."

Feyd-Rautha tilts his head and allows himself a small smile. "You should return to the fortress, my lady. I have duties to attend to," he touches your armed hand and gently takes the knife from you, "and my uncle would like to see you."

Despite being shielded from the black sun, you elect to keep your veil for your lunch with the Baron. You excuse the chill running down your spine as the coldness of the high, stony walls of Fortress Harko as Iassa escorts you to the dining hall. Iassa kept her head bowed, you noticed, hands folded in front of her. She didn't need to look ahead to know the way.

When you arrive, large doors open to the sight of the Baron floating at the head of the table. There was only one other seat at the side of the table a few feet from him. Despite that, there was a full spread of food which his servants were already feeding him.

You had done your best to avoid the Baron in your short time here, but it seems this meeting was inevitable.

"Lady Atreides," his eyes turn toward you lazily. "Come. Eat."

"Good afternoon, Baron," you curtsy as you enter. Iassa bows to you and waits outside. You take your seat, "will it only be us, my lord? This seems a lavish spread for only two people."

"Are you calling me a glutton, girl?" he spats.

Your heart takes a beat as you try not to stare at his grotesquely large body.

"We are Harkonnen," his husky laugh rings through the room. "We may lavish as much as we please."

You exhale the breath you were holding and let out a small laugh. Of course. They were the richest house in the Landsraad. The Harkonnens must be accustomed to excess.

"Soon, child, you will be Harkonnen as well," he says in that gravelly voice that is so uncomfortably similar to Feyd-Rautha's. "Is that what you want?"

The question takes you aback. No one has ever asked you this question before. This betrothal has been decided for so long, you've never even thought to ask the question yourself. It was all you'd known. Your duty. You had never bothered to imagine what your life would have been if you weren't destined to marry the Harkonnen heir.

You regain your composure, "Baron, it is my honor to unite our Great-"

"Drop the act, child!" he barks. "Perhaps you fear me, but if you are to become 'family', I will not have the patience for charades. Speak plainly. Do you want to marry my nephew?"

This has been a most unusual exchange. At least compared to what you're used to. Always taught to be sweet and pleasant. You suppose you had nothing to lose, considering the Baron killing you would start an all-out war. You take a moment to think, and then a deep breath.

"I am a woman, dear Baron. There is not much for me in this life. Indeed, tales of your house's savagery are well-known throughout the systems, and in Caladan more than most. But had I not been betrothed to your nephew, I would only be married off to some other lord or count or whatever, gentler than Feyd-Rautha they may be," you swallow. "Perhaps, I could have been trained a Bene Gesserit sister. However, to become the wife of the heir to one of the most powerful houses in the known universe—there are worse fates."

The Baron stares, seemingly satisfied with your answer. He waves his servants away. "Eat, child. Waste not the food of one of the most powerful houses in the known universe."

He begins to glide towards the doors on his side of the hall and his servants scurry to lay down their forks and follow after him.

You look to the remaining servants in the dining hall, then to the mounds of food on the table. Your first dinner on Giedi Prime had felt suffocating with all the nobles around and Feyd-Rautha smugly breathing down your neck. You pile your plate high.

In your quarters, Iassa helps you out of your clothes and into a warm bath. You don't wait for her and begin scrubbing your skin with a rag yourself. Between the heat from the morning gladiator fights and your tense conversation with the Baron, you were happy to wash the sweat off your body.

"Is this alright, my lady?" Iassa is trying to wash your hair with the lightest touch, "Does it hurt you?"

"No, no. It's quite alright." You take over and she moves to begin scrubbing your legs.

You're grateful you brought bottles of your own hair soaps. You notice Iassa is intently observing how you washed your hair and you appreciate her wanting to learn. Although, you surmise she might not have a choice. Her black choker seems to stand out even more against her pale skin.

"How was your day, Iassa?" you say as you lather your hair.

She pauses in confusion. "It was quite alright, my lady," her voice is soft and polite.

"Do they treat you well?" you knew it was a futile question.

"I am property of House Harkonnen, my lady," she says as she pours more water into the grey stone bath, "I am treated appropriately."

"Yes, but do you mean appropriately as in well or appropriately as in—" your desperate attempt to make a friend seems to be slipping through your fingers. You let out an exasperated sigh, "I know it's only been a few days but, do I treat you well, Iassa?"

She takes a moment and smiles up at you, "My lady has been most gracious." You see in her eyes she means it.

"You were right about the na-Baron," you say, "he is formidable indeed."

"I'm pleased my lady was impressed," she wraps a robe around you as you rise from the bath.

"Well, I don't know about impressed," you say as you step out, "he is a decent fighter, certainly. Perhaps it is a difference in the fighting styles of our worlds."

After helping you dress, Iassa bows and leaves you to retire. Her grey robes flowing behind her.

Once alone, you find your father's dagger in your belongings. The Baron's earlier question comes back to you. Is that what you want? To marry Fayd-Rautha? That night, you sleep clutching the knife close to your heart.

When you awake the following morning, you are greeted by a servant girl bringing you breakfast.

"Where is Iassa?" you ask.

"She has been relieved, my lady," the girl looks even younger than Iassa, "I am Zora."

Your brow furrows, "What does that mean, 'relieved'?"

When Zora remains silent, you get up from the bed.

On the dark grey of your vanity, you notice a black strip of leather. A choker identical to your new servant's but it was unmistakable who it belonged to. Your mind ran through the whys and your blood began to boil.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore @bornslippys @vexis-world @aoi-targaryen @alexandrainlove

#feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha fic #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune #dune part two #baron harkonnen #vladimir harkonnen #house harkonnen #house atreides #atreides reader #giedi prime #austin butler #space-mango-company #fic: stranger

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