#it's okay to be a LITTLE impractical

[bypatia]

did not even get screamed at by our manager, got straight up debriefed and then sliced at the battleground. he used words like actionables and deliverables and timesheets and “meet me half way” and disappointed and “help me help you” and “you’re not letting me be understanding” and the worst part is, he’s actually an ok person 😭

[stardew-obsessed-ora]

the demon dobson hcs are in the works but for now,,,

Ulrich's Humble Abode! interior design is my passion you dont understand how little attention ive focused on my exterior

Side note: The layout of my farmhouse, along with the bathroom and the third story floor is from the Seasonal Garden Farmhouse V2 Mod

[blindedguilt]

Your hair feels so good around my fingers. Can I touch it forever?

For the few silent moments he had felt that touch on his hair, aside from a strong flinch, Leonard had remained still, calm, and silent as he quite literally widdled away his time with what appeared to be some sort of stake he was making - could it have been for a tent? Some skewer for game? Regardless, the hermit had remained notably tense, yet otherwise unbothered as he continued his simple task. There was a frown on his face, but he didn't speak. He didn't move.

...So it had continued that way for the next few minutes, Leonard continuing his work with a gradual loss of tenseness as the feeling numbed off - The knife in his hand (Certainly not one for the purpose of widdling, but small and handled with enough care that it could have been) continued to snip patiently away as he felt the vague, nonchalant feeling of long locks wrap around the another's fingers. The sound of cutting wood filled the air as he worked, and if he were to be completely honest, even as little as he began to notice it, Leonard had almost begun to feel relaxed in a sense that he truly had nothing to fear...

...At least, until the sound of Popshi's voice had reached his ears.

"....!?"

At this the large shoulders of the hermit jerked upwards with a sudden start at the unexpectedly masculine sound of the other's voice, and immediately, a flustered hand had dropped the small knife he was using to cut the wood and waved blindly to shoo the other back.

"P...Please, that is enough..! What are you doing!?"

It had taken him a moment to find a solid standing in his voice, Leonard crying out with more firm insistence than roughness, though there was no denying his obvious shock that the past few minutes of peace had been spent with an unexpected stranger. Just who was this man? Had his heart been any calmer, Leonard would have otherwise been uncharacteristically bothered that just anyone felt they had a right to that in particular. It was a rare, finnicky spot for the hermit that he cared little for others to lay hand upon for the memories - and guilt - that it had brought him. That this man (Or at least, they sounded like one) had sounded lighter in his tone served little to ease his burden.

He didn't know this man... Did he? Now that the initial shock had passed enough for him to think, that voice did sound rather familiar.

...But whoever it was, it certainly seemed that it was no one the now-startled hermit had expected.

[ask-artsy-oncie]

Its just like. I just got my drive for animation back today of all days but I've committed to making a bunch of Valentines dolls and I have to finish them early enough so people can order them and have them *arrive* on Valentines Day and AUUUGH.

Just wish my brain worked properly. Yknow?

[kavehater]

I still remember when virtue said something about my height I can’t recall exactly what she said but she said I’m like throwable ? Guys I don’t want to be thrown pls I don’t know what to say to this 😭

[nereidprinc3ss]

in the dead of night

in which spencer wakes up in the middle of the night with an overwhelming desire to feel you

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: fem!reader, soft dom!spence (certified nereidprinc3ss classic), sub reader, fingering, piv sex, praise, overstimulation, cr**mp*e (god pls we need a new term) a/n: this is probably THEE most self-indulgent thing i've ever written. but.... lowkey favorite smut i've posted thus far..... i'm such a sucker for disgustingly sleepy needy sex. just.... read it and u will see.... and as usual i love you!!! PLEASE tell me what you think!! MWAH

When Spencer got home around one in the morning, he’d been too dead on his feet to do anything more than get undressed, fall into bed, pull you close, and pass out. Now he’s slightly disoriented as he stirs, pinned between sleep and wakefulness as he realizes how you’ve curled into his side—your face is buried in his shoulder to the point where he’s concerned about your access to air—but each warm puff against his neck assures him you’re breathing alright. One arm is slung haphazardly over his shoulder and your top leg is wound around his. Without thinking, his hand cups the back of your thigh, stroking the bare skin where it presses against his hip. You’re never so soft as you are in sleep; plush, easy, gentle. Spencer realizes with some degree of frustration that he has to fuck you. That’s why he’s awake, and he condemned himself to the fate of it as soon as he touched you. 

Sometimes the impracticality of sex becomes so apparent he resents his own mammalian, biological drive to reproduce. It was never like this before he met you. You reduce him to nothing more than a primate doomed to follow its basest instincts. You make him feel stupid. 

God, he loves you. 

It’s with this in mind he drops his head to kiss your shoulder—a gentle sort of wake up call, as his hand snakes further around to your inner thigh and he presses his lips to your ear. 

“Baby?” he murmurs, kneading the smooth warmth of your leg. It doesn’t take much to wake you up. He thought after you’d been staying at his apartment on a semi-regular basis you’d begin to sleep through him getting up and coming home at odd hours, but if anything, you became more sensitive to the floor creaking or the mattress dipping. 

“Hm?” 

His fingers brush the fabric of your underwear. Your hips twitch. 

“Is this okay?”

You inhale deeply, readjusting your arms around him and nodding into his chest. 

“I need yes or no, angel.”

“Yes, please.”

The words aren’t desperate. They’re sleepy, mumbled, maybe even a little annoyed that he’s making you jump through hoops. The corner of his mouth twists in amusement at your perfunctory politeness and the way it poorly disguises your habitual impatience. 

“Thank you,” he says, rewarding you with his fingers pushing between your folds through the fabric. You say nothing more as he unhurriedly rubs your clothed clit, but he feels the way your breath catches for a moment—before pouring out in one deep tide. He presses slightly harder, transitioning from passes to slow, tight circles that elicit the tiniest, sleepiest moans. This goes on for a while until your hips begin grinding in isolated circles, chasing his hand. 

“Touch it,” you beg quietly. He can feel how damp you are through the fabric and realizes he was probably torturing you for several minutes, but sometimes he just gets so lost in touching you it becomes almost meditative. He pulls his hand away and snakes it between your bodies, sliding beneath your underwear and dragging his fingers over your puffy clit. You whimper but he quickly gets distracted when he realizes just how wet you actually are. Spencer sinks his fingers into you and moans lowly at the sound, rubbing at a spot deep inside you and rutting his palm against your clit rather than pumping his fingers. 

“Breathe,” he reminds you when he realizes how still and silent you’ve gone. A small amount of air escapes in a tremulous little cry as your hips roll gently against his hand—whether to escape the sensation or get closer is unclear. “You’re all wet, baby. Were you touching yourself before I got home?”

“Mhm,” you hum weakly against him. “Couldn’t come.”

Spencer feels like he could finish at the thought alone—the nightly phone calls while he’s away occasionally devolve into desperate phone sex and he’s gotten off to the image of you playing with yourself in his bed on more than one occasion. 

“We’ll make you come,” he promises, dragging his fingers from your soaked heat with bated breath. 

He pushes your underwear down first, until you can kick it off your feet (you’ll have to search for it between tangled sheets tomorrow) and then his own, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth as his cock brushes your tummy. Spencer hoists your bent leg further up his body, exposing your cunt a little more and reaching underneath your thigh until he can guide himself between them. 

The head of his cock pushes between your folds momentarily before he’s teasing your swollen clit, slipping the underside of his tip over it in lazy, noisy circles until you whine. 

“Stop it,” you beg, voice still strained with sleep, “need it inside.”

“You’re right, baby, I’m sorry,” he croons, pressing his lips to your hair as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance and slowly begins to push in. “You’re being very patient—”

He cuts himself off as the two of you moan in filthy harmony. You’re so worked up for him, so defenseless in your half-unconscious state that he slips in with far less resistance than usual. 

“Fuck, me,” he groans under his breath, hissing and bucking his hips when you tighten around him and cry out. He shuts his eyes and thinks of the Goncharov conjecture in an attempt to control himself; the i-th cohomology of the complex is isomorphic to the motivic cohomology group—and then he’s fine. He’s at least learned to stop rattling off mathematical paradoxes out loud during sex. “You okay?”

The only answer you have for him is an indecipherable whine that makes his chest ache. He rubs your thigh in sweet, soothing passes. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” A thought occurs—he chuckles breathily, seeing stars as you throb around him. “You never let me in that easily.”

“Mm,” you squeak, gripping his shoulder hard enough that it aches and he truly couldn’t care less, “you feel good.”

He exhales shakily, pulling out slightly before grinding his hips even deeper into yours. 

“Yeah? So do you, sweet girl.”

“Fuck,” you whimper, and he takes it as a sign that you’re ready to be fucked. Spencer’s not thinking about a whole lot as he withdraws all the way and you clench around him desperately—but somewhere in the back of his mind he’s realizing how much he loves your dirty mouth. When he was younger and dumber, he thought he’d prefer a girl who was soft-spoken and rarely (if ever) cursed. Now that he’s had you, he realizes how compelling and endearing the contrast of your soft voice is when you’re swearing like a marine. 

“God, I missed you,” he breathes into your hair as he leisurely finds the right pace and you melt against him. “I missed how soft and wet you get for me,” Spencer admits gently, eyes screwed shut as he rambles from a place of profound affection and not at all thinking clearly, “and I missed how you cry when you need it so bad it hurts, and I missed how sweet you are when you let me fuck you right after I get home and you’re so tired, just like this. You’re always so good, honey, I don’t know what I did to deserve you—” You whine and clench so hard around him it becomes an effort to push back in, and he groans as he realizes you’re already coming. “Good girl, baby. Holy fuck.”

That last part is more so whispered to himself, but he can’t help it as he feels you painting his cock with your release. You’ve never come this quickly before, and he slips his arm beneath the crook of your knee, pulling up and granting himself more access to fuck you harder and faster. You moan brokenly, sinking your nails into his back. 

“‘m sorry. That was—I didn’t mean to.”

“No,” he quickly assures you, breathing hard, “that was so good, baby. It was perfect. Don’t apologize.”

It seems the brief window between climax and over-stimulation has passed, and a gasp falls from your dropped jaw, arching into him as your body unconsciously tries to find relief from the sensation. 

“Oh, god, Spencer, I—”

“You can take it, we’re getting close,” he promises. Not a demand, but meant as encouragement. “Do you think you can come for me one more time?”

“I don’t know,” you slur, the words rising to squeak. 

“I think you can. Come on, show me how you were touching yourself earlier.”

You whimper, but slide your hand from his shoulder and push it between your bodies. A gasp accompanies the jolt of your muscles as you make contact with your clit, probably demanding too much of it. Soon, however, the conflicted mewls melt into a rhythmic string of delicate, short moans, so pretty it’s like a practiced song. Spencer’s brain, usually overflowing with words, is nothing but a void of swirling fog—each of your perfect sounds, a little burst of light. Soon he’s making noises of his own, which you obviously adore if the way you tense around him is any clue. Usually he sublimates them into words, but he’s too tired, and you feel too good. Your combined moans, along with the sound of him fucking you and the sheets moving over skin make for a truly dirty soundscape. 

“Will you come inside me?” you beg breathlessly, and he can feel the movement of your hand speeding up as you get desperate. He sucks in a breath through his teeth at your plaintive request—the words bring him that much closer to finishing. 

“Yeah, baby. I’m—fuck, I’m not going to last.”

“Spencer—” and somehow, when you say his name like that, he knows exactly what you want. He bows his head and finds your lips, mostly blind in the dark, kissing you messily until that split second where his grip on reality becomes tenuous before the building pressure finally bursts. Multicolored fireworks explode behind his eyes as he moans against your lips and continues fucking you through his orgasm in strong thrusts for as long as he can. Thankfully you finish again just as he’s running out of steam. He rubs the spasming muscles of your thigh deeply as you writhe against him in your typical push-pull style—you don’t know what you want and it’s his job to hold you still and make you take it. After a moment you quiet down, stilling in his arms except for the continued expansion and contraction of your lungs. “Oh my god,” you breathe. “I can’t believe I did that. That’s so embarrassing.” Spencer chuckles breathily—kisses your forehead with his eyes still shut and slips a hand under your shirt to rub your back. 

“Why is it embarrassing? I liked it.”

“I have never—it’s never been so fast! It’s not supposed to be!”

“Why not?”

You huff.

“You’re the man. Men come too quickly. Not me.”

“I’m sorry you had to have two orgasms instead of one. Next time we’ll make sure you don’t come so we can even it out.”

You bury your face in his shoulder once more, immediately softening. 

“No! I take it back.”

“I thought you might.” His hand slides down your back, squeezing your ass affectionately. “Let's rally. We need to clean you up, angel.”

The pillow muffles your voice as you say, “I can’t. I’m asleep.”

“Can I record you saying that for playback in the morning when you ask me why I let you go to sleep with my come inside of you?”

“Spencer, I am seriously not moving. You woke me up. This is not a me problem.”

That makes him laugh, and he presses his lips to yours softly. After a long moment of his mouth moving slowly against yours, a needy little whine rushes from your nose, and it becomes evident he’s successfully kissed the attitude from you.

“You were so good, honey,” he murmurs against your lips. Another (shorter) kiss. “Did so well. I’m proud of you, baby.”

A second soft whimper from you as you chase his lips and he gives in once, briefly—knowing he can’t make you get up after this. How could he do that to such a sweet girl when she’s obviously completely exhausted? Jesus, you have him whipped. He recognizes that. And he made peace with it a long time ago. 

“Go back to sleep. I’ll clean you up.”

“Thank you,” you mumble, already slipping back into unconsciousness like you knew you’d get your way. Knowing your boyfriend, you probably did. “I love you.”

“I love you. Even though you’re a princess.”

You laugh. 

Ten-ish minutes later, once he’s done the best he can cleaning you up and is throwing the covers back over both of you, you startle him slightly by speaking. He thought you’d been asleep. 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you sigh dreamily, snaking your arms around him once more. Spencer’s cheeks heat up at the memory of the praise he’d shamelessly lavished upon you not long ago. He’s glad you’re barely awake, because he’s too flustered to think of a response. 

He loves it when you do that. 

[braisedhoney]

SERIOUSLY IT FEELS LIKE THIS SOMETIMES WHAT THE—

(screaming relegated for tags, as always ;; omg)

🐝New hive art!🐝

@braisedhoney

Non canon as you like it❤️

Those are just some fun concepts/head-canons I drew bc Hive obsession never lets me go

🐝 Ship location drawing

I headcanon the idea that the whole ship runs on honey

(Honey is gathered and goes to producing food + producing honey fuel)

(Also wanted to draw 2 locations, but energy left me 😔 so 🫵maybe some day🫵)

🐝Pollinator’s backpack

(Basically took the idea of irl pollination)

Crewmate sticks the sucking tube in the flower, and it sucks up all of the nectar. Nectar is stored in “pollen baskets”

🐝Bee mecha

Bonus

Thanks to @demonicrhythms for showing me silly bear earrings💞🐻‍❄️

[tojisun]

hockey player simon pt 02 // pt 01

simon topples to the ground, his padded knees hitting the ice. he feels bodies pile on top of him, gear and feet pressing into his sides, not with ill intentions—well, not completely with ill intentions—but simon does not care.

he saw that winning shot land, heard the cries of their fans—they're playing in home rink too—and feels the thrill of victory wash over him.

the referees pull them off each other and simon finally gets to stand. his chest is heaving, the cool air and the heat of his exhausted body causing miasmic reactions into his being. add that pretty doll of a fan he’s been eyeing into the mix, and the feeling of elation bloats.

peaking.

they rush off court, their coach trying to contain their buzzed energy just enough to be able to properly burn it off in the weight room. simon lags at the very back, eyes still flicking to that section in the audience as though by doing so, he’d get a quick glance of you.

of course he doesn’t, not when everyone’s turned into blurred specks—compact seas of their jersey colours.

“riley!” their coach hollers. “let’s go, let’s go!”

simon shoots towards him, his sheathed skates thudding against the padded floor as he makes his way into the weight room. johnny claps him on his back, their team cheering for him as he passes them on his way to the bench press, but he couldn’t really focus, not with his mind running; trying to make excuses that’d allow him to slip away just for a moment to scour the arena for, well, you, but nothing ever sticks.

every single one sounds pathetic and impractical. say, he was given the go-signal to roam around, what exactly are the chances he’d come across you again?

apparently, one-fuckin’-hundred percent.

“oh!” you gasp upon seeing him, your palm falling flat atop your chest in your surprise.

simon stumbles to his feet himself, his previous finesse on ice apparently having gotten zapped out the moment he’s back on land. garrick and mactavish turn, not expecting simon to stop, and even your friends, it seem, did not expect this run-in, as well.

simon watches as your lips part open, like you are gearing yourself up for a word, only to shut them close in your hesitation. you flit your eyes to him and away again, shyness rippling from your very movements.

he takes pity on you, and greets, “hey.”

it’s late when he realizes that he’s raised his hand up for a weak, little wave. he hears the distinct muffled laughter from mactavish already. garrick, at least, has the decency to actually smother it.

muppets, the two of them.

“hi!” you reply, giddy, your face beaming as you smile up at him.

lord, he thinks, you’re even more beautiful up close.

simon can’t help the way his lips tug up too, his own heart churning at the elation that is still singing in his veins. he pretends to not notice the way your friends shimmy out of his eyesight, pointing to their phones as though to say just give them a ring when you are done with your business with simon, before they run away, giggling to each other.

he twists to make discreet eye contact with his teammates. he tilts his head to the side, hoping to christ almighty that they take the hint.

go away.

he almost rejoices when they actually do, the two of them sending you polite smiles before walking away too. with your back turned to them, they make smooching actions, mactavish has even turned his back to simon, crossed his arms over himself, and ran his hands over his sides in mimicry of a hot make-out session.

garrick barks out a laugh, the sound ricocheting, and it takes your startled glance back at them for the two to truly scurry away.

you turn around to see him pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“sorry about them,” he murmurs, hand leaving his face to rub at the back of his neck. he feels his ears burning, surely flushed in his secondhand embarrassment.

“that’s okay,” you reply, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. a jersey—his number. “congratulations, by the way.”

then, your smile grows bigger. brighter. “you were so cool! you went zoomin’ to our side and next thing we know you were–”

your words peter into a quiet stutter, like the events are unfolding in your memories the way his are too.

he remembers the high of having pointed at you; dedicating the winning shot to the fan whose awed look lit the fire in him. he remembers the certainty in him that he was going to land that shot; so sure he was of his victory.

it was exhilarating. dizzying.

“was it– did you mean it?”

“of course,” he croaks out, sweltering from within.

“oh,” you murmur, breathless, before whispering to him your name.

simon repeats it out loud, and it drips from his tongue like he was meant to always sound it out. like your name was meant for him to call.

you stare up at him with those beautiful, dazzling eyes, and he knows that he’s addicted. hooked.

“do you want to grab somethin’?” he asks, desperate to be with you for as long as you’ll let him.

“yes,” you reply, eyes crinkling in your delighted smile. “that’d be wonderful.”

you two walk side-by-side, mere inches between your shoulder and his, but simon wants you closer. he wants to bask in your warmth, in your scent. what do you smell like? something sweet and floral? or something clean?

he wants so much more.

as you warm up to him, smiling and laughing, and exchanging shy banters that has him feeling parched, simon realizes that there’s something beyond winning the playoffs and the cup that he is so desperate to fulfill.

fuck me.

this is still very much delusions of the heart but let me have it pls 😭 more than anything, i enjoyed writing hockey au sm and honestly i think u guys might have to pry this out of my clasped hands hhdhsh

[eatthepoison]

I been working at a daycare for over 3 years now and I'm suddenly very aware of how wrong everybody is when writing/drawing children. It seems that most people specifically have a very incorrect idea about how 2 year olds act/are.

[roosterforme]

Mr. Right Now Part 2 | Hangman x Reader

Summary: As soon as you decide that Jake is the one you want for your first time, he's very clear that you'll be playing by his rules. You're ready to get this over with and get on with your life, but he's determined to make you admit that you're allowed to feel good. And maybe you want to enjoy this with him.

Warnings: adult language, mentions of sex and virginity, sexual touching, 18+

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Why is Jake on my masterlist!? Mr. Right Now masterlist

"Jake," you whispered as his soft hair glided through your fingers. You liked his name. He was handsome. He was older. His lips tasted delicious. He had green eyes.

Why had you been so focused on Rooster? Oh, right. Because your roommate, Kylie, said he was good after she slept with him. She told you all about the Navy bar and the different guys with call signs, and you made it a point to remember that Rooster was the one who she said was the gentlest. 

You froze. Jake had his hands around your waist, his hips pressing his semi hard length against you. Those pretty green eyes were locked onto yours, and you knew it would be a long shot to get him to agree, even now. But something else was bothering you about this whole scenario. You suddenly wondered if Kylie and Jake ever had sex.

For some reason, that idea alone was enough to piss you off. Going blindly after Rooster would have been no big deal, but Jake seemed to actually give a shit about you. He just took the time to make sure you were really twenty, and he kept questioning you as to why you were here in the first place. In this bar where you apparently stuck out like a sore thumb.

But you wanted Jake specifically for your first time, whether he had already fucked Kylie or not. You leaned in and kissed him again, and he seemed more than willing now. You hoped your little skirt and tight shirt weren't going to fail you after you made it this far. He just needed to take care of this one, basic thing for you, and you'd be on your way. Then you could go out with Cooper who you were actually so ready to date, and you wouldn't completely embarrass yourself with him.

You let yourself touch Jake's hair again as you asked, "What's your call sign?"

His hand felt huge against your butt, and you went willingly when he pulled you even closer. "Hangman," he said in that cute Texan drawl. That didn't sound familiar at all, and Kylie was pretty proud of all the call signs she'd managed to collect. Maybe she hadn't gotten to him yet. Or maybe she wasn't his type. That thought alone made you smile even more as he continued to touch you.

"Okay, Hangman," you whispered against his mouth in the middle of this crowded bar. "I'm ready for you to take me to your place."

He kissed you gently and shook his head. "Let's go out to my truck, and I'll drive you back to your apartment or dorm."

God, he was such a good kisser, but he was really grating on your nerves at this point. You were a little nervous that he would keep saying no and then ruin your chances with Rooster or one of the other guys in attendance tonight, even though they would be clear backup options now. You whined in annoyance. "Come on, Jake."

"No. I'm not taking you home with me," he replied firmly. 

You stomped your foot; you really wanted to lose your damn virginity, and you couldn't give it away. "You don't even have to take me back to your place. We can fuck in the parking lot."

"Jesus Christ, Darlin'. That's not happening either," he said, looking scandalized. "Definitely not for your first time. And a leather mini skirt is an impractical outfit to get fucked in anyway."

You tipped your head back and groaned. "Well how was I supposed to know that?" Then you looked at his handsome face, pretty much ready to call it a night and try again tomorrow at a different bar. "I'm doing everything wrong."

He had the nerve to laugh at you again. "No. You're really not. The skirt is just going to make guys want to work harder for it. And honestly, somehow the sneakers are doing something for me?"

A small glimmer of hope flashed inside you as you ran your fingers along his stubbled cheek. "Yeah?"

"God. Damn. It." He was practically growling now as he started to haul you toward the exit. "If we're doing this, then we're doing it right."

"Okay!" you replied immediately, not really sure what you were agreeing to as he led you outside to the dark deck, letting the door close behind the two of you. The loud interior of the bar was a thing of the past now as he took your chin between his thumb and fingers and kissed you a little rough with the ocean as the new soundtrack. 

You almost dropped your purse as you tried to wrap your arms around his neck, already wanting more of him. "If you really want to do this," he said between kisses, "then you're playing by my rules." You were practically whimpering as his lips found the side of your neck, because why did his words sound so sexy?

"Absolutely," you whispered. "Jake's rules."

He half carried you out to the dimly lit parking lot as he muttered, "This is a terrible idea." He squinted at your face and added, "You seem like the type who never learns her lesson."

"I resent that," you said, running your lips along his ear even as your feet left the ground. "I have a 4.0 GPA. I always learn my lessons."

He grunted as he helped you into what you assumed was his truck before standing outside the door with his hands on his hips. "Like I said, you're a real smartass. Now listen up. I'm going to be as gentlemanly as I possibly can during this whole thing."

"Whole thing?" you asked, wondering what he could possibly mean. He just needed to get completely hard, shove his cock in you for a little while, and then call it a night.

"Yeah," he grunted, his green eyes a little wild in the glow from the truck's dome lights. "I'm going to make sure you come. I'm going to be as sweet as I can be. But you need to be clear if you're not having a good time, or if you want me to stop. If you can't abide by those basic ground rules, we're absolutely done here."

Oh. He was really taking this seriously. You chewed on your lip, and his face became more apprehensive. But you weren't debating with yourself whether or not his ground rules would work for you. You were actually trying to figure out why he was already being better than anything you anticipated tonight. Anticipated ever.

"Oh, my god," you gasped. "Are you married?"

"What the fuck kind of question is that?" he shouted, looking angry now. "Of course I'm not married!"

You reached out to him and grabbed his hand. "Sorry! It's just that you're sweet, and you seem to be taking this really seriously! I was just checking!"

Jake scowled, and his tone was one akin to hurt. "I'm not letting you make yourself believe that all you deserve for your first time is a careless fuck in a bar bathroom or a parking lot, and I'm certainly not letting one of those drunk assholes maul you apart!"

The more you thought about it, you really didn't want to be manhandled or have to pull your skirt up in a bathroom stall to make the best of things tonight. You squeezed his hand which you were still holding as you softly said, "Thank you."

He ran his free fingers through his soft hair and muttered something that sounded like, "Yeah, don't thank me yet." Then he kissed your lips and said, "Buckle your seatbelt," before he let go of your hand and closed the door. 

-------------------------

You were pretty quiet on the drive back to Jake's place, but you didn't seem as nervous now. If anything, he thought his nerves were ramping up while yours were calming down. He couldn't remember how many condoms he had left in his bedside drawer, and when he tried to estimate how many he might use tonight, he almost missed his turn. Was he really going to do this?

"You live by the beach," you remarked, playing with the hem of your tiny skirt while you looked out the window.

"I do," he replied, mentally cancelling his morning run if you were going to stay over. The implications of letting you spend the night were creeping up on him, but kicking you out was absolutely not going to be an option. You likely had the entirety of the rest of your life to be disappointed by men, but he wasn't going to set that precedent. 

"How old did you say you were?"

Jake felt a little dirty now when he said, "I didn't. But I'm thirty." He tapped the brakes when he was about a block from his house. His truck already smelled sweet like your perfume or shampoo, and he glanced at you when he turned onto his street. "Let me take you back to your place."

You laughed softly as you leaned a little closer to him. "Negative, Hangman. I have a twin bed and a nosy roommate. I think we're better off doing this at yours."

"Come on, Darlin'. That's not what I meant, and you know it."

He coasted up to the stop sign on the quiet side street; he could see his little, white cottage on the next block, but he turned to look at your face in profile as you crossed your arms over your chest. You were looking straight ahead, chin proudly held high as you said, "If you really don't want to have sex with me, then turn right and head back toward Pomona Avenue."

It wasn't that he didn't want to. You were all pouty lips and feminine curves and perky tits, and yeah... he did want to fuck you. And he wanted to make it so good, you'd ask for more. He wanted to take his time and pull that first orgasm from you while he gave it to you exactly how you needed it. When he didn't turn his truck back toward Pomona, you looked at him and whispered, "It's okay if you're not into it, Jake. You can take me home. You don't have to worry about me."

He made a noise at the back of his throat and licked his lips. "That's not it." He wanted to say more, but for now, he answered your concerns by moving his foot to the accelerator and driving straight through the intersection. You visibly relaxed in the seat next to him, and a few seconds later, he was pulling his truck up to his house. You were looking out the window toward his cottage, and when you reached for the door handle, he let his hand rest on your bare knee. You turned his way immediately, and he said, "You never agreed to play by my rules."

"I agree."

He shook his head. "Then tell me what my ground rules were."

You bit your bottom lip, and he could feel you squeeze your legs together as you whispered, "You said you'd make sure I come. And that you would be sweet. And that if I tell you I'm not having a good time, you'll stop." Jake let his hand slide a few inches higher, and you responded by easing your legs apart and telling him, "I agree with the ground rules."

Jake nodded once and said, "Looks like I'm stuck with you now."

You kissed him. Somehow you caught him off guard every time you did it. You were tentative and inquisitive, and when you moved closer, his hand eased up your thigh. "You're stuck with me," you murmured between kisses. "For probably at least a half an hour." Jake started laughing, and you pulled away slightly. "What's funny?"

"Darlin', you're playing by my rules. You want me to teach you about sex? Half an hour isn't even going to be enough to get you warmed up."

You looked surprised as you reached up to run your fingers through his hair. "Teach me about sex? I thought you were just going to fuck me and call it a night."

Jake moaned. "Definitely not. Now let's get started."

--------------------------

You found yourself in Jake's living room, eyes darting around, trying to figure out what to focus on first. He was an actual adult with award commendations from the Navy and a massive TV. You felt small in his space, and some of your bravado melted away as he chuckled and said, "I'd offer you a drink, but, you know."

You tapped the toe of your sneaker against the hardwood floor and said, "According to my ID, I'm the same age as you. I like white wine, thanks."

He was trying not to laugh as he walked into his kitchen, and you followed along behind him, watching as he reached for a wine glass and filled it with ice water. "Enjoy your chardonnay, Darlin'," he drawled, and now you were also trying not to laugh.

"Thanks," you whispered before taking a sip. You tried to set your purse on the counter, but the clasp caught the edge, and both of your IDs came sliding out along with a strip of three condoms. When Jake met your eyes you said, "I made sure I was prepared before I left my place. I'm young, not stupid."

"But the Hard Deck?" he asked, closing the distance between your bodies. "Not your smartest move, parading around in there with a fake and some condoms. The guys that hang out there wouldn't know their ass from a hole in the ground when it comes to making sure a woman enjoys herself."

"You hang out there," you told him with a little eye roll, and his fingers came up under your chin. He tilted your face up until you were staring into his pretty green eyes, and your core clenched with need.

"I don't make promises I can't keep," he told you, and you absolutely believed him. "Now, you said you're a virgin, but why don't you go ahead and tell me how experienced you are."

You swallowed hard, chin still held in place by those rough fingers. "Is that really necessary? I'm ready to go, Jake." You set your glass of water on the counter next to the condoms and reached out to touch his solid abs through his shirt.

"There's a little more to it than that," he told you, stroking your jaw with his thumb. "Let's talk and get to know each other a bit."

The last thing you wanted him to know about was your complete lack of experience with guys. "We don't have to do that." 

"Yeah, well I want to," he told you, finally releasing your chin.

"You're very old fashioned," you said with a smirk, and your hands settled on his belt.

"I'm a lot older than you, smartass. Humor me." Instead of responding with anything about yourself, you held eye contact with him while you yanked the end of his belt free from the belt loops and started to unbuckle it. A smile danced along his lips, and he said, "Fine. I'll start. I'm a Lieutenant in the Navy. I grew up in Texas, but I've lived all over the country. My favorite food is chili. I love running on the beach in the morning before it gets too hot out. I have four sisters. And I'm a Scorpio."

You had the button of his jeans undone, and you were easing his zipper down as you said, "You do seem like a Scorpio, Lieutenant Jake." His green eyes were still on yours as you officially went further than you ever had with a guy by letting your fingers run along his impressive length through his underwear. He licked his lips as you reached the tip and then dipped your hand inside his snug boxer briefs. He was warm and velvety soft while also getting harder by the second, and you gasped at the look in his eyes. "Does this feel good?" you asked softly as his pupils widened.

He nodded once, and his voice sounded raspier as he told you, "Yes."

"Good," you mused out loud, unable to contain your smirk as Jake grunted softly. "If you like it, then the guy from my physics class who I want to go out with will probably like it, too."

Suddenly, Jake's hand was on your wrist in an iron-tight grasp, preventing you from stroking him. "What?" you gasped, his hand tightening incrementally as something dangerous flashed in his eyes.

"Lesson number one. When you're with a guy, and you have your hand wrapped around his cock, you shouldn't be talking about a different guy."

You pouted up at him and said, "I already told you earlier that part of the reason I wanted to lose my virginity was so it would feel good when I get with Cooper."

"And I'm telling you right now that you're done talking about him," he grunted. "Got it?"

A chill of delight ran up your spine as you whispered, "Yes. Understood."

His grasp on your wrist released immediately, and he leaned in, kissing you softly one time. "That's just a surefire way to get a guy jealous," he informed you, and another little chill ran through your body as you considered that maybe you just made him a little jealous. 

When you ran your hand along his length again, his lips were back on yours immediately, and he moved you so your leather covered butt was pressed against the edge of his countertop. Then he took your hips in both of his big hands, and you whimpered into his mouth. He teased you, pulling away slightly just so you'd chase him for more. He was throbbing against your palm as your other hand found his hair once again. 

He was sexy. Even the rough stubble on his face felt delicious as it rubbed your chin and cheeks. Then, just as his lips started to migrate along your jaw, he carefully reached for your wrist again, withdrawing your hand from his jeans. "Yes, it feels good, but this isn't about me, Darlin'."

When his lips skimmed down your neck before settling on your pulse point, you whimpered his name. Then he sucked gently on you there while he toyed with the zipper at the side of your mini skirt. He was big and strong, and he smelled good, and as he worked your zipper down, inch by painstaking inch, you shifted so you were rubbing against him.

As soon as his fingers dipped inside the elastic of your underwear, it felt like you were clenching around nothing. Usually you had to use your fingers for a while to get that kind of result, but he hadn't even touched you there yet. Then you realized you were wet. Really wet from his lips and his touch. Your thong felt damp against your skin as your skirt started to slide down your hips, and your voice was a little too loud as you gasped and said, "Okay, I'm ready. I'm definitely ready. Let's do it. Where's your bedroom?"

Jake's lips released your neck. He brought his mouth up to your ear and told you, "Absolutely not. Not yet."

Your skirt slipped a few more inches as Jake ran his nose along the shell of your ear. "God. Do you need me to ask nicely or something? Please?"

"You're playing by my rules. Did you forget? We're not rushing through this." Your skirt dropped to the floor at your feet as Jake pulled away and looked at your face. "Unless you're not having a good time, Darlin'. Say the words, and I'll stop."

You had no control of your body as your head tipped back, a low moan escaping as you said, "I don't want you to stop." You panted as you rubbed your wet panties against the open fly of his jeans. "It feels so good. But I want more."

Jake's hand found the back of your head, tilting it forward until you were looking at him again. "What do you want me to do to you?" he asked as one of his calloused fingers played with the lace trim along the top of your underwear.

"I want you to fuck me," you whispered with a moan, nodding your head as he smirked at you. 

"Really, pretty girl? You sure that's it? Because it sounds more like you want me to make you feel good." His fingers stroked up to your belly button and back down again as you bucked against him. "I think you know by this point in our conversation that you're allowed to enjoy this. And I can tell that's what you really want." 

"What could possibly feel better than getting fucked?" you asked in desperation. "I want you to fuck me!"

"No, you don't," he whispered, voice harsh and needy. He kissed you hard on the mouth two times before adding, "You want me to make you feel better than you've ever felt before. You want me to touch you with more skill than you can touch yourself. And none of that has to do with me fucking you. Tell me I'm wrong."

You bit down on your lip as his hand reached around to your butt, and suddenly you knew for sure it wouldn't have been like this with Rooster or any of the other guys at the bar. They would have fucked you and unloaded into one of the three condoms by now. Maybe you wouldn't have even gotten wet for them. You'd probably be back at your place in bed, planning on seeing Cooper on Monday morning with a new outlook on life. But it wouldn't have been like this.

Jake wanted more than that for your first time, and now you were starting to see that you could have more as his rough fingers kneaded into you. If you were already about to come just from rubbing yourself on him, then playing by his rules and letting him take his time was sounding better by the second.

You took a deep breath, let your lips brush against his and told him, "I want you to make me feel good."

"That's more like it, Darlin'," he crooned. "I'll take care of you."

----------------------------

Jake is about to show you that he's a man of his word. He keeps his promises, and he's already made some to you. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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[discordantwritings]

Cleaning Up (Crocodile x Reader)

Warnings: NSFW 18+ MDNI, fem afab! Reader, virgin! Reader, Crocodile’s your boss, fingering, PiV sex, inappropriate use of Crocodile’s hook, belly bulge, slight overstimulation

WC: 3.6k

Summary: You’re Sir Crocodile’s maid and, if you’re honest, your uniform is an offense to feminism. Luckily you don’t really see your boss or anyone else while you work so there’s nothing to worry about.

Until you see him.

And then you start having things to worry about- mostly how attracted you are to your boss.

Notes: what can I say. Horny brain won

Tagging: @keiva1000

In the handful of weeks you’ve been Sir Crocodile’s personal maid you’ve grown to like your job. You were terrified on your first few days but quickly you found out that there was little reason to be scared. You were rarely ever in the same space as Crocodile- you worked mostly during the day while he was attending to his work- and you did your job throughly so he never had any notes for you beyond which drinks to stock up for him. Not to mention even the slight unpleasantness of how much sand you have to clean up is easily overridden by the generous pay you receive. And what you were initially the most uncomfortable with you’ve grown to like- that being the uniform.

It’s… short. And low. And so painfully stereotypical. The textbook definition of an impractical sexy maid’s outfit. For the first week you spent more time trying to make the skirt cover your ass then you spent cleaning. But when you realized there was rarely anyone in the house while you were working you quickly cared a lot less. There was something nice about putting on an outfit you didn’t have to think about picking out, and honestly there wasn’t any work so hard that you needed the coverage of pants for safety, so you developed a good relationship with the skimpy black and white number.

Maybe you did think you were a little sexy in it.

Of course, there was no one at work to see you and certainly no one at home, but it was nice to feel good about yourself. If no one else was going to objectify you, goddamn it, you were. Your boobs did look nice in the low square cut top. Your ass was cute when in peaked out from under that stupid tiny skirt.

It made coming to work each day slightly less boring. Your job was, admittedly, monotonous as you worked through your cleaning schedule. Today was an office cleaning day though- a nice break from the mopping day before. You collected all your cleaning supplies, pushed the big doors to Sir Crocodile’s office open, and nearly jumped out of your skin.

Crocodile was sitting behind his desk, leaning back as he read a newspaper. He folded down the edge of the paper as you came in, looking you up and down as you stared like a deer in the headlights, carefully constructed day flying away from you.

“I’m so sorry sir I didn’t know you would be in today-“ You had only seen him twice before this- once when he interviewed you and then another when he gave you a tour of his home. Never during work hours and certainly never in your uniform. “I’ll clean other places I’m sorry to disturb you.”

“No, it’s fine.” He says dismissively and that’s all as he unfolds the paper again to continue reading.

Okay. Time to do your job then. And try not to focus on how damn short your skirt is. It’s fine.

And really, it was. You went about your normal work and it seemed like Crocodile went about his. He looked at you from time to time but you got the feeling his was more looking at the quality of your work as opposed to your figure. Thank god you were good at your job.

After an hour or so you were done and loaded all of your supplies back onto your cart to move onto the next room. But, since he was here-

“I’m all done here unless there is something else you’d like done?” You ask politely, wanting to appease him.

“Hm…” He sits up in his chair and looks you up and down. “Who gave you that uniform?”

“Um… one of your officers sir, he had an interesting makeup style?”

“Ah. Bon Clay.” He huffs. “Well, at least your boyfriend can get some enjoyment out of this.”

“I’m not-“ This conversation has not gone anywhere near what you were expecting. “No boyfriend or anyone sir.”

“Really…” He looks you up and down again and suddenly you feel heat from his gaze. “Interesting. Well, there’s nothing else I need today, continue on.”

And just like that you were dismissed. You nod your head a silently hurry out of the room, grateful you didn’t have to continue facing down his hardened stare. It was frightening… but there was a twist in your gut that certainly wasn’t fear.

Arousal.

It followed you through the rest of your shift, his piercing grey eyes in the back of your mind as you swept and dusted. The heat from his gaze still lingered on your skin as you crawled into bed later that night. The few words he did say to you left questions for your mind to run rampant with.

But he was your boss and a terrifying pirate so you needed to shove all those thoughts and lock them away where they couldn’t be found. You could ignore how wet you’d gotten just from thinking about him looking at you.

You probably weren’t going to see him for a while so you had plenty of time to cool off and get a rational head about all this. This fleeting, lewd fantasy would be over before you knew it.

That is, of course, until he’s home the next day too.

This time he’s in the dining room, enjoying a cup of coffee and a book when you round the corner. You aren’t as startled this time, but all those lustful thoughts came crawling back into your head.

“Good afternoon sir.” You say, hoping your voice hasn’t betrayed you.

“Afternoon.” He says, only glancing up from the page when you speak.

It’s probably better this way, the less words he speaks the less of that low tone the less you have to latch onto. You sweep the floor first before moving to clean the long hardwood dining room table. At first you only clean 3/4ths of it, avoiding Crocodile’s space. But when you go to put your rags away Crocodile stops you.

“Oh, don’t let me get in your way.” He pushes himself back in his chair, taking his coffee cup with him as he sits about a foot from the table now.

“Thank you.” You go to star cleaning from the side of the table but a small tut from Crocodile stops you.

“Wouldn’t right here be a better angle?” He gestures casually with his hook to the small space between him and the table. Your brain is slow in processing what he’s saying and he simply leans back with a shrug. “But what do I know about cleaning.”

You’re not entirely convinced you’re not dreaming as you walk closer to him and turn so your back is facing him when you put yourself in between him and the table. You hear your heartbeat in your ears as you first clean off the table right in front of you, taking your time so you can work up the courage for your next action.

Slowly you lean over the table, pushing yourself up on your tip toes to get your whole torso onto the hardwood surface. You know your ass is fully on display for Crocodile, your black panties probably not doing much to hide the folds of your pussy. Behind you, you hear Crocodile suck in a breath.

“Just like that…” He murmurs and you aren’t sure but you swear you feel the fabric of your skirt move up slightly.

You take your precious time cleaning off the last bit of the table, making sure to shift your hips much more often than necessary as you keep yourself pushed up. There’s no way he isn’t staring at you the whole time, and you try not to have a giant smile on your face when you slowly stand up again and turn around. You’re still situated in that small space, your legs between his spread knees.

“Is there anything else you need sir?” You look into his eyes, using every ounce of your willpower to not look down and see if he’s hard or not.

His golden hook plays with the edges of your skirt as he looks at it thoughtfully. “I thought this thing was a little much at first, but I think I’ve come around to it.”

“It’s grown on me as well.” The attention has you flushed and your heart beating out of your chest.

“You look like you want to run.” He grins up at you and you have to grip the table behind you to keep yourself steady.

“No sir.”

“Then why are you so flushed?”

He’s playing with you. Like a cat toying with a bird before it kills it. There’s something so intoxicating about being prey.

“I guess I’m not used to attention like this sir.” You answer honestly.

“How can that be?” His flesh hand comes up and grazes along the outside of your thigh. “Pretty little thing like yourself…”

“I’m not sure. Maybe I keep too much to myself.” His touch is featherlight as he leaves goosebumps in his wake.

“No partner now… certainly there have been partners before?” His grey eyes are intense as they lock with yours and the implications of his question aren’t lost on you.

“No. No partners before.” You admit, growing more breathless by the second.

His grin shifts slightly into something that would be frightening if you weren’t dizzy with arousal. His coffee cup gets placed back on the table, long forgotten by now.

“What an absolute shame.” There’s no hint of sadness in his voice. “Poor little thing like yourself all alone late at night.”

His hand drifts under your skirt and around to your ass, palming the flesh there. “I bet you make do though.”

That was the thing though- you really didn’t. Not for lack of trying, certainly not, but every time you touched yourself you’d never been able to climax. You get in your own head and your thoughts run rampant and you can only focus on how your fingers don’t actually reach anywhere good or how you can never keep up the right pressure on your clit to push you over the edge. Something always slips at the last minute and drags you out and away from your orgasm. You enjoy the ride there, at least, but never quite get over the hill.

You take too long to respond but that in itself tells Crocodile his answer. The grip on your ass turns bruising and you bite back a moan. You watch as his tongue runs over his teeth and he’s about to say something when-

“Sir.” A voice sounds from behind you and embarrassment shoots up through your system.

“What?” Crocodile’s voice is sharp and mean as he glares past you at whoever is interrupting.

“There’s been Marine movement counter to what our intelligence has told us-“

“How bad?” Crocodile cuts him off and you look and see Crocodile’s hook slowly crushing into the table next to you.

“Bad.”

“Fuck.” His hook full imbeds in the table with a slam and you can’t help but jump. “I’ll be there in a second. Go!”

You hear hurried footsteps leaving the room and there’s a heavy pause as you both collect yourselves. You hear the sound of splintered wood as he pulls his hook out of the table and stands up, towering over you.

“Don’t worry about the table.” His hand slowly leaves you and you bite back a whine. “Do you think you could stay late today? My bedroom is a mess and could use your attention.”

You nod furiously but he tuts.

“Use your words sweetheart.”

“Yes sir.” You manage and are rewarded with the surprisingly soft brush of his fingers on your cheek.

“That’s my girl.”

And with that he leaves you, breathless and gripping the broken table. You take a deep breath and calm yourself down so you can finish your work for the day.

Once you figure out how to make your legs work again.

You clean just about every square inch of the house you have access to before slipping into Crocodile’s bedroom as the sun went down. Of course, there was absolutely nothing to clean in his room- honestly you weren’t confident he even slept in here with how pristine it was.

You smile as you get a devious thought, walking over to the neatly made bed. You slip your panties off before sitting on the edge of the bed and then nicely lay them out next to you. Now to wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

You’re half asleep by the time the bedroom door startles you awake. You shoot upright and try to look poised but you quickly realize he probably doesn’t care.

He looks tired and aggravated. His eyebrows furrowed as he slams the door behind him and for a second you think you’re going to be asked to leave- that is until he sees you. His shoulders visibly relax as he stalks over to you, looking you up and down.

“Sorry I had to keep you waiting I-“ He stops in his tracks as he sees your panties sitting next to you on the bed. That predatory grin from earlier sneaks back on his face. His hook picks up the black fabric and holds it out in front of both of you.

“What’s this?” He asks, looking down at you.

“I-“ All the courage you had worked up earlier fizzled out by now, embarrassment raking over your body as you avoided his gaze. “Just wanted to be ready for you.”

“So here you were on my bed- bare, alone- what a cruel man I am. Fuck if I had known-“ His body towers over you and you lean back, arms straight behind you supporting you on the bed.

“You’re here now.” You still can’t quite meet his eyes but hearing all the need in his voice has your confidence slowly creeping back.

“Yes.” His hand comes up and his thumb rubs your cheek as he gently moves your face so you’re looking in his eyes. “Back to the headboard and spread your legs for me.”

You quickly push yourself back until you hit the headboard and let your legs lay open, earning you an appreciative hum from Crocodile. He walks around the bed before sitting next to you, hand grazing up your thigh. Leaning in he nudges your jaw with his nose and you tilt your head, letting him have full access to your neck. Teeth graze along your jugular as he pushes your skirt fully up.

“You might have ruined my sheets already, you’re absolutely dripping…” You whine as his large fingers push apart your folds.

He bites down right as he pushes a finger inside you, pain and pleasure mixing as you writhe against the bed. His finger pumps slowly in and out as he licks over the bite he just made. A second finger slips easily inside you while his thumb rubs against your clit.

“How do my fingers feel? Hm?” He whispers as he nips at your earlobe.

“Feels so good sir- I’m-“ You press your head back into the headboard as you feel the coil tightening inside you.

This is always where you get in your own way and you feel that self scrutiny rearing its head. Suddenly you’re worried about how you look, how you sound, how your inexperience is going to eventually ruin the night. You’re quickly sliding away from your orgasm and Crocodile catches on fast.

“Hey.” His hook goes under your chin and directs your face to his. “Focus here.”

His lips are on yours and his body leans in, pressing you down further into the bed. The kiss is so consuming you don’t notice this hook leave your chin until it’s slicing clean down the middle of your top and bra. Fabric falls away and your yelp at the action is easily swallowed by Crocodile. He doesn’t give you a moment to breathe as the cold metal of his hook drags against one of your nipples.

“I guess I’m not too upset you won’t cum on my fingers.” His voice is husky as he pulls away, hand quickly shoving his pants down. “Your first orgasm should be on my cock anyways.”

Your head is swimming at his words and as he pulls his cock out you realize you’re in over your head. He’s big- too big you’re afraid. Crocodile must see the gears turning in your head and he chuckles.

“Oh don’t worry darling- it’ll fit.” He moves back over you, caging you in with his large body.

He drags his tip through your folds, teasing you as he presses kisses along your neck and collarbone. The gold of his hook drags down between your breasts, somehow still cold despite its constant presence on your body. His tip presses into you and you already feel the stretch and you hands fly to his back and shoulders to anchor yourself.

“Shhhh- just relax baby-“ He pushes in slowly but relentlessly and it’s hard to follow his instructions when you feel like you’re getting split in half.

As your nails dig into the skin of his back he leans down and takes one of your breasts into his mouth, his tongue swirling around your nipple as his hook presses into your other nipple. There’s nothing you can do but take what you’re being given, letting the painful yet pleasurable sensations overwhelm you until finally- finally- your brain empties of all thoughts.

“That’s it- such a good girl for me-“ You don’t miss how breathless he is, forehead pressed to your collarbone as he pushes his last few inches into you. “So fucking tight-“

One of your hands moves up and tangles in his black hair. “Please- need-“

“Hm? Need more already?” He starts to move his hips, pace still slow as you still struggle to accommodate his girth. “I knew you were going to be such a good little whore for me.”

He sits up and pulls your thighs up further around his waist, shifting his angle and making you see stars. You feel his hand pressing against your stomach and when you look down you can see the slight budge of his tip pressing up through the skin. It’s enough to make you dizzy.

“You see that don’t you?” He picks up his pace, hand moving down to hold your hips in place. “You’re taking me so well- I’m going to fucking ruin you for anyone else. Do you think anyone else could possibly fuck you like this? Huh?”

“No- fuck- I’m-“ You claw at whatever skin of his you can reach as you feel your orgasm rushing up on you and for once you’re not afraid it’s going to creep away.

“That’s right baby- cum all over my cock. I know you can do it.” His pace is brutal and his hand moves from your hip so his thumb can circle your clit and just like that you’re gone.

White hot pleasure rakes down your spine as you come undone on his cock, the release nearly making you cry. Crocodile has moved to press kisses against your neck again, slowly moving back up to your lips as he rocks into you at a slowed pace. The kiss is less intense than before but no less intimate.

“Think you can give me another one?” He asks, breathe fanning over your face.

“I don’t-“ You’re quickly cut off by him flipping you onto your stomach.

You feel his hand press down against the space between your shoulder blades as the outer curve of his hook presses your hips up. Despite his slowed pace the pleasure is still the same- body still reeling from your last orgasm.

“I can’t help being a greedy man.” He grunts out, the sound of his hips hitting your ass filling the room.

You hold onto the sheets for dear life as you do your best to keep your ass in the air as he fucks you into the mattress. The bed does little to muffle your debauched moans and whines as his cock hits spots you didn’t know existed.

“C’mon baby be a good girl for me- milk my cock-“ His thrusts are rougher now and you have no choice but to obey his command.

You cry out into the bed as you cum, only just able to hear Crocodile groan behind you as you feel the sudden loss of his length inside you. Not a second later you feel warm ropes of cum hit you ass.

“Hold still for me for just a bit more baby-“ Crocodile is breathless as you feel his hand grab at your asscheek, fingers smearing his cum into you skin. “Fuck you look so beautiful all gaping for me- next time I’m going to fill you up, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You can only offer a weak moan, completely worn out as you focus all your energy on not fully collapsing onto the bed. Of course the thought was wonderful, but you’re not sure when your body would recover from this.

“Alright love, you can relax.” At his words you melt, body falling into the bed as the haze of exhaustion washes over you.

You feel Crocodile’s weight leave the bed but he’s only gone for a minute. He returns with a glass of water and a damp cloth, cleaning you off with a surprising softness.

“I don’t think I can walk let alone make it home.” You admit after you take a drink of water.

“Did you really think I’d let you go home after that? Darling, you never have to leave again if you don’t want to.” Crocodile joins you on the bed again, hook sitting on his bedside table.

As he pulls you into his chest, chin resting on top of your head, you don’t think that’s such a bad idea.

[walpu]

Hellohello, peeking from the corner

And dropping by to request Aventurine x reader that likes to give him trinkets and souvenirs from their travels.

And then one day they came with Ashy Paste/Grey Bean Paste version of them and him together all smiley faced and all.

(Fun fact, from a leak: Aventurine's actual name is Kakavasha. Fun fact 2: Kakava is a celebration event of the Romani people)

- 🪽

Aw it's such a cute request 😭 shaking crying asking hoyo to make the second part of the cats event with penacony and belobog characters

I've seen the leaks about his name and the meaning behind it since I'm literal insane about this man. Honestly this is such a pretty name 🥹

Hope you'll enjoy reading this 🌸

giving Aventurine Ruan Mei's cat creations that resemble the two of you

characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, fluff, was written with the established relationship in mind but works for pre-relatioship stage as well, no beta see I'm capable of writing something other than angst

First of all, he absolutely adores it when you give him small gifts from your travels.

It's a reminder that you care about him enough to think of him when he's not around.

And while yes, it's obvious that you care, it's nice to know that you care enough to go out of your way to do something for him.

He's a miserable man with no friends okay even the small trinket is enough to make him happy.

Keeps them safe and takes care of each and every gift you give him. Brings some a lot of them with him to casino or/and to his business meetings, claiming that those are his lucky charms.

If it's a peace of jewelry then he would not hesitate to buy several sets of clothes just to have numerous outfits specifically to show off your gift.

If it's some unusual gift then he would not leave you alone until you tell him where did you get it.

Speaking of unusual gifts. He certainly didn't expect that your visit the Herta Space Station will result in you bringing with you two... cat thingies?

At first he simply doesn't get it. It's a bit impractical for you to get a pet since you're traveling so much, no?

But then he notices. Something.

"Darling, call me a delusional romantic but don't they resemble us, hmm?"

When you tell him that those cat thingies are, in fact, creations of Ruan Mei herself, and you just accidentally helped her to creat two cats that resemble you two, he can't help but laugh.

"Ah, sugar, seems like it's not just me who is a helpless romantic. So you've missed me that much that you made are a cat just like me, haha?"

You explain to him that you didn't actually adopt them, Ruan Mei just let you take them with you for some time to examine how socialization with others outside if the Herta Station may affect them.

At first he thinks it's for the best, since, once again, it's impractical to keep them as pets.

Spoiler warning he'll pout and whine when it's time to return them to Ruan Mei.

Loves observing them. Like genuinely adores doing it. Especially if it's the cat that resembles you. Would pester you to take a look every time the cat acts like you.

Would probably feel a bit uncomfortable around the Aven!cat but eventually would warm up to him as well. Mostly because he'll notice how much the reader!cat loves him.

Takes a lot of pictures of the cats together and sends them to you.

"Us <з" "Yeah well they were literally made after us so..." "Uuuussss 😚😚😚"

You know how a lot of cat thingies were talking in high pitched voices? Yeah he would chuckle and pester you to try to talk like that as well.

Lmao but imagine Aven!cat saying something about risks and gambling and benefit etc etc in this high pitched voice. Aven himself would probably chuckle and say something like ”haha little guy knows what it's all about” but would sulk if you'll tease him about it.

Would probably try to buy them from Ruan Mei afterwards lol

[re-colligere]

What would the spies look like as villains and vice-versa?

This took me a while to get to, even though I've been thinking about it for a LONG while now...it took a lot of brainstorming (especially for the villains LOL)

Below the cut, I wrote some short character blurbs for each of them, and how different they are compared to their OG spy au counterparts!

The spy gang is admittedly a bit more straightforward than the villains. To be fair I also had a faster time figuring out the OG spies too so it's okay.

Agent Buí is our very determined and optimistic field agent! Like Miss April, she's very charismatic and just a bit goofy. She does Not have the hat of holding as an agent, but she's still inhumanely indestructible like a cartoon character. She's also a tad more careful about getting others involved in the crossfire than Miss April is.

Agent Rojo is most commonly seen as Agent Buí's field partner, though his lack of stealthiness and carefulness makes things a little more dicey for them. It's fine though, because Rojo and Buí enjoy the extra challenge. Just like Hellforge, he's very skilled in combat, he lovesss confronting people, and he abides by his moral beliefs seriously. Unlike Hellforge, he's not an engineer in any sense of the word, much less for weapons.

Agent Beguni is the resident tech wiz of the group, responsible for giving the agents a lot of gadgets and tools...though Rojo in particular complains about how "lame" his gadgets are ("Don't call them LAME they're there to PROTECT you!!") Him and Terror are similar in their general...idk patheticness? /LH and their desire to be a little less scared of everything by putting themselves in a high-risk career. Though he still gets kinda pulled by Rojo and Buí out in the field even if it's so so so scarys...

Agent Laranja is the handler and de facto "boss" of the spy gang, like Bughaw is. She likes to plan a lot but the others tend to derail them REALLY quickly, and she has to improvise along with them. It's a bit of work to get her agents under control, but she does enjoy working with them. Similarities with Axyon....might be a spoiler? They both have a background in psychology. And I guess Laranja smiles a lot more here.

I didn't include Granny (Agent Sepia) in here bc I got tired sorry </3 but she would've been a retired agent OR. a director. who keeps reminiscing of the good ol' days of espionage or something.

ANDD the villains. The guys I spent the most time on. My funny little guys

Bb. Alakdan is the villain group's primary information collector and, in some ways, their primary fighter. She specializes in socializing, fashion statements, and poison-making. She has a bunch of other needles hidden in her gloves and boots too. I almost didn't include the scorpion tail because it's So damn impractical. BUT DAMN if it isn't cool (Emile made it for her methink). Like Verte, their strengths are in charisma and persuasion. Unlike Verte, Alakdan is more willing to get her hands dirty, is more confrontational, and she has less emotional baggage about her job. Another name for her was Lady/Miss/Madame Scorpia, which, if translated in Tagalog, is Bb. Alakdan.

Vivien is Alakdan's little sister and a self-proclaimed villain-to-be!! Vivi adores everyone in the villain gang and wants to be as cool as them someday...Just like in the OG au however, her sister Dani discourages her from getting too interested in her career because it's dangerous. She's a bit more involved in the villain group though, kind of acting as their evil minion/apprentice/whatever. The others really like her and will burn the world down if anything bad happened to her. Villain name to come later if I ever come up with something for her.

The Duke of Hearts usually fills the role of Alakdan's partner-in-crime in the field. This fucking guy is actually the reason why this took so long, because I can't think of a good villain gimmick for Emby other than being the Muscle for the group (which is funny, since in the first versions of the OG spy au he WAS gonna be a villain too). I settled for a magician-type guy who's very stealthy and is also great at confusing people. He's just as socially anxious and self-conscious as Roz despite his chosen role, though I guess part of that is him wanting to get over his stage fright. While he's just as physically strong as Roz is, Duke is even more averse to getting into fights; he's truthfully not a very skilled fighter. You guys get to see this doodle I made which cemented the whole silent magician-thief thing I've got for him. Another name for him would've been Mr. Stardust, or something with King/Jack/Ace (like the suits). I don't think he would've been comfortable with being called King though. He's not the King of anything.

The hat of holding is kind of a /joke but I'm kinda obsessed with the implication that the villain group MUST have one in their possession. It's not really needed for him but damn if it isn't funny SKDJFH

Lady Tragedy is the group's mastermind and leader, and everyone pretty much respects her. Extremely clever and surprisingly persuasive, agents must be careful around her lest they hear her calming, hypnotizing voice. The mask is somewhat a mirror of Dr. Axyon's mask, but I haven't really thought about all these guys' motives and backstories too hard (I probably won't). Just like Bughaw, she's a very good leader who's very considerate of her comrades. Tragedy also has decked out mobility aids. Unlike Bughaw............................Tragedy's. a villain? I guess? I think that's literally it. Another name for her was Judge Amygdala or ANYTHING with Judge in it. Judge Tragedy is just hard to say out loud (unless that's just a me thing LOL) but I like how Lady Tragedy ended up sounding.

Emile, or Monsieur Mortelle is literally just Agent Indigo back when she was in the League if we're being honest. Nothing changed about her, I guess again other than motive reasons. She also didn't have a villain name originally, but my French partner suggested something with Mortelle because, APPARENTLY, "ennuie mortelle" is a common French saying which means "killer boredom". I think it was funny so I ended up giving that to her LOL in-universe I'd like to think that Alakdan gave her that name instead because Emile was perfectly satisfied with being called. Emile. She just kinda accepted it. ALSO BTW. Yes I'm aware the gendered words don't match, I know monsieur is masculine and mortelle is feminine That's the point ok. the point is she doesn't careeeeeeeeeeee about genderrrrrrrrrrr okay. so don't get up on my business about this. The only french opinions I care about is my partner's okay /lh

Anyways yeah my braincells were spent on the designs and the names. Probably not gonna develop this any further unless I want to do something silly with them, but nevertheless this was a fun little hypothetical to play around with!

[apuckishwit]

Making Room

Steve never gets into DnD.

Not even after Eddie convinces him to join a one-shot over one Christmas when the kids are all back from college and jobs and far-flung adventures. He's not a jerk about it or anything. He sits and makes a character with his boyfriend and he does his best with the role-playing and he only asks Dustin for help with the dice seven or eight times (and everyone had promised to give him an even dozen before they gave him shit about it, so it was fine). It's fine. He's not mad that he spent the time doing it with Eddie and the kids (some of them taller than him now, in spitting distance of college degrees and first apartments and jobs and spouses and lives, but they'll always be kids to him).

But afterwards he kisses Eddie and says it really and truly isn't for him, sorry babe.

And that's okay.

When he and Robin are scavenging through yet another thrift store for furniture and dishes and lamps for the apartment she and Nancy are getting in Indianapolis (he's so sad that her room in the little house he shares with Eddie is going back to being a guest room, but he's so damn happy that she and Nance have stopped dancing around each other...and they're only moving about half an hour away, he'll still see her all the time), and he spots an impractically long desk/table, onviously custom-built, with an absurd number of drawers and compartments built into it, he buys it immediately. He wrestles it into Eddie's van that they borrowed for the day, and smiles apologetically when Robin has to hold like three boxes on her lap. He gets it into their dining room while Eddie's at work, graciously gifting their own table to Robin and Nancy, and it's worth all the hassle (and the fact that one end of the table pokes about a foot into the living room space) when Eddie comes home to something big enough for even his most complicated campaign maps and with plenty of storage for all his dice and miniatures and source books.

And sturdy enough for Eddie's most...enthusiastic...thanks, they find out that night.

Steve never gets into DnD.

But every time Hellfire (whatever incarnation of Hellfire it is, be it the Hawkins crew or some of the guys from the little record shop Eddie works at in town, or some combination) meets up for a game, they get used to Eddie yelling, "Stevie! Evens or odds?" everytime a situation calls for a luck die. They learn that complimenting the snacks Steve sets out will sometimes get them advantage on a roll. They watch Eddie snag Steve's wrist as he passes in or out of the dining room and get him to roll a D20 for various and random reasons. Steve always obliges, before drifting back to the couch with a beer or a slice of pizza and whatever basketball or baseball game is on.

Steve never gets into DnD.

But sometimes Eddie spreads newspapers over the Campaign Table (TM) and sets pots of paint and rows of miniatures out, and he and Steve sit together for a few hours, Steve slapping on the basecoats with a single pot of white, gray, or black and Eddie going to town on the details while they chat about their day, playing footsie under the table or stealing kisses while they wait for something to dry.

"Babe! I need a name for the friendly barkeep who knows more than he seems!"

"Carl."

"He's a half-orc!"

"Those are the big green guys, right?"

"Yeah!"

"Hmmm. Big Carl."

"Perfect!"

Steve never gets into DnD. But he loves Eddie, and he loves how into DnD Eddie is. So he makes room in his life for this thing that Eddie loves.

***

Eddie never gets into sports.

Like, objectively he understands that some people enjoy running around getting all sweaty, trying to keep some kind of ball away from other people and make it go into some kind of receptacle. And he certainly appreciates the view of some of those people in tight little shorts.

Particularly Steve.

Like honestly? If it wouldn't get him labeled a total creep (and they weren't so careful about giving anyone a reason to question the assumption that they're just two young friends living together to save money until they find respectable women to marry)...he'd park his van out by the little middle school where Steve teaches gym and coaches basketball and baseball every day during his lunch break, just to watch his boyfriend run the mile with his students in those shorts that hug the muscles of his thighs just right.

But he doesn't like sports apart from the strictly prurient interest he has in watching Steve wear sports-appropriate clothes.

He tries. He wants to know just what it is that keeps Steve glued to the TV when his favorite teams are playing, wants to understand why Steve yells and groans and jumps up with wild cheers, spilling popcorn all over the living room floor. He just...doesn't get it. Steve tries to explain March Madness to him one year and it makes no more sense than when Wayne tried to when Eddie was a kid. Eventually he just shrugs, kisses Steve's nose, and goes back to petting through his boyfriend's hair with a, sorry, baby, it's not for me.

And that's okay.

He gets up early the week Steve is overseeing baseball tryouts, to make sure his boyfriend has a travel mug of coffee fixed just the way he likes it, and a good breakfast waiting for him when he gets out of the shower. Steve is unquestionably the cook in their relationship, but Young Eddie ate a lot of breakfast for dinner over the years and Adult Eddie makes damn good pancakes, omelettes, and French toast.

Eddie never gets into sports.

But he gets Lucas to break down exactly what kind of notes and stats Steve will be keeping track of and draws up a template "character sheet" for baseball players, spending an hour at the local library laboriously making copies with their cantankerous mimeograph machine.

He sure as shit never gets up at the crack of dawn to go running around the neighborhood the way Steve does...but on days when it starts raining or snowing halfway through Steve's run, he'll drag himself out of bed and throw some towels in the dryer, so they're nice and warm when Steve comes back inside.

Eddie never gets into sports.

But he takes every overtime shift he can for a month, so he can take Steve to Chicago for his twenty-fifth birthday to see the Bulls play. The seats aren't great or anything, and it's noisy as fuck, crowded as fuck, and he has no idea why his boyfriend is losing his mind every time that Jordan guy so much as touches the ball...but Steve's eyes are sparkling, the color is high in his cheeks, and when they get back to their hotel that night, they've barely closed the door before Steve is shoving him against it, devouring his mouth.

"Hey Eds, Ohio State or Georgia Tech?"

"For what?"

"I'm doing my brackets for the pool I've got with Hopper and Lucas!"

"Um, whoever's in red!"

"Ohio State it is, thanks babe!"

Eddie never gets into sports. But that's okay. He loves Steve, and he loves how happy Steve is when he's playing, or coaching, or running (God help him, he fell in love with someone who gets up at six am to run. Without anything chasing him.) So he makes room in his life for this thing that Steve loves.

Because certainly, love grows in shared passions and matching interests. But it also flourishes in the carefully tended space you make just for the things that make your person happy...even if it's just not for you.

[reidingandwriting]

Like A Prayer > w.w. & l.h

Word Count: 6.2k

Pairing: Deadclaws x Reader

Warnings/Contains: Cursing, Wade having chronic pain, a little anxiety all around, and the last bit. Is pure sex tbh. We’ve got a 4 + 1 fic baby, and that plus one,,, they’re just fucking tbh.

A/N: So sorry this took ages 🧍🏻‍♀️ I’m not 100% happy with the smut at the end of the chapter But!! more smut is coming, potentially featuring sub!Logan 👀😗

Previous chapter

i.

It didn’t come as a surprise to you that Wade dealt with chronic pain. Most days it was manageable, he told you. Just a little annoying, like a new pair of shoes that squeaked when you walked. Except the shoes never got broken in and the squeaking never went away. His pain never fully went away either, his metabolism too high for any pain meds to work.

All this to say, him being in pain was just a fact of life. He was Deadpool. He had somehow by the grace of every god out there bagged not one, but two partners- one of them being the fucking Wolverine- who could tolerate his shit and even match it. He was also in pain every waking moment. Facts. But like he said, it was usually manageable.

Today was different. He knew last night it would be; your heater had crapped out last night and it would get fixed today, even if you had to go full Karen. But that didn’t help Wade now. The early morning chill seeped into his bones, muscles contracted, aching with every breath. Definitely didn’t help that he’d had a long night of Deadpooling last night.

Wade blindly reached out, feeling for the living heater known as Logan, but whined when he was greeted with a cold side of the bed. He must be out already.

“Wade? Wha’s wrong?” Your voice was thick with sleep, speech slurring slightly as you sat up.

“Just cold. And feel like my body is made of lead, fuck.” Wade groaned and you frowned.

“Do you feel up to walking? I can run a warm bath and I’ve got some epsom salts.” Walking was the last thing on Wade’s mind, but you wanted to help him. Wade could see the way you were fidgeting, your urge to take care of him taking over. Always such a mother hen. And a warm soak would probably do some good.

“That sounds perfect, thank you.” And with the smile you gave him in response, how could he say no to you?

It took him an embarrassingly long time to get to the bathroom and he was irritated with himself, but you were still so gentle with him. More patient than he deserved. You let him struggle a little to undress, which his pride appreciated. As much as he loved being babied, as much as you loved babying him, you seemed to know when he needed to do things himself. Even if it was impractical, even though your hands kept twitching, ready to jump into action and help him. You talked about some baking show you started watching last week with Logan as you ran the bath to fill the silence and Wade appreciated the distraction.

Once you were happy with your work, you helped Wade into the bathtub and you couldn’t help but smile at the content sigh that left him. Wade’s eyes slipped closed, the warmth enveloping his body, and you sat beside him, forearm dipped in the water as you held his hand.

By the time Wade was ready to leave the bath, you gave him a little space to get dressed again. Only after assuring he’d be okay by himself. You mentioned having some surprise for him in the living room you needed to set up and Wade’s curiosity won out. Besides, he did feel better after his soak.

Minutes later, he heard commotion as he exited the bathroom and the sight in front of him had him floored. The couch was covered in blankets and had been dragged up a few feet. You were on the floor, finishing up building… what was that? Wade cleared his throat and you jumped.

“Shit, you scared me! Sorry, I’m just finishing setting this up. Go on and get comfy.”

“Whatcha got there, cupcake?” Wade asked but obliged. He walked over to the couch and wrapped the cozy navy blanket around him before taking a seat. “Switching from bartending to a construction career?”

“Never. Those blue collar boys work too early for me. Much prefer my late nights and our lazy mornings. This is an electric fireplace. Can be used for ambience but also lets off a fair amount of heat, according to reviews. Apparently it could be tomorrow before our heat is fixed, and it’s been killing me watching you miserable, baby.” Wade’s heart skipped a beat at the still new pet name.

“You, you bought this for me?” Wade willed his voice to stay steady but he must have failed given the look you gave him when you looked up at him.

“Of course I did.” You sounded confused, pausing for a moment before it dawned on you. “Wade… you know I love you, right?” Wade nodded, his eyes beginning to water. “This is your home. You deserve to be comfortable and if I can do anything to help you out, I’m gonna do it.” The fireplace clicked on and almost immediately, Wade could feel the heat blowing towards the couch. His whole body felt warm, and it wasn’t from the fireplace or the blankets.

“What holy being did I deliver the fucking of a lifetime to in order to deserve you?” Wade asked. You took a seat on the couch, laying back against one of the arms and gestured for him to join you. Wade positioned himself in between your stretched out legs, his back against your chest as you both laid out.

You massaged his shoulders, pressing gentle kisses wherever you could reach as Wade turned to putty in your hands until his breathing slowed, his chest eventually rising and falling in his familiar sleeping pattern. A mid day nap never hurt anyone, you reasoned as your own eyes closed.

ii.

Logan liked watching you and Wade. No one was on the same level as him- his energy and his ability to blabber on and on unmatched- but you never seemed to have trouble keeping up. It was nice, seeing someone who could match Wade’s energy. Even on days you weren’t as hyper, you were attentive. Even during his ten millionth time rambling about the last episode of whatever trashy reality show you were watching, you listened to him intently, as if he was explaining how the inner workings of the universe.

That was one thing that took Logan a while to get used to. How attentive you were. How dedicated to the both of them you were. It was easier to watch it with you and Wade. Easy to watch Wade open and close his hand, his tell he was looking for something, the words escaping him as he asked for “the… the… FUCK you know what I’m talking about, the thingy!” and somehow, you always found the right thing. On the days Wade cooked- a rare occurrence, but he did make a delicious breakfast- you sat on the counter, ready to assist. You wore one of Wade’s shirts, one of the My Little Pony characters on the front- Pinkie Pie, Logan thought?

You and Wade were deep in conversation, your legs swinging lightly as your hands moved in the air, your words getting faster as you got more excited. Logan sat at the dining table, mug of coffee steaming in his hand and he felt your gaze land on him. How long had he been staring?

“Having a senior moment, peanut?” Wade asked and you scowled, lightly kicking at the side of Wade’s leg.

“Be nice, gremlin.” Wade maturely stuck his tongue out at you and you rolled your eyes, fondness evident in your smile, before you looked back at Logan. “You okay, bub?” Logan’s heart felt like it stopped working briefly, loving when you used his pet name for you and Wade back at him. He was not gonna read too deeply into what exactly that said about him, but it filled him with a warm, pleasant feeling.

“‘m okay. Just don’t know how you two wake up with so much energy.” Wade must have opened his mouth and you swatted his arm, causing Wade to laugh.

“It’s a curse and a blessing,” you said solemnly, the corners of your lips twitching in amusement when Logan chuckled.

“Alright, honey bears, breakfast is done. And I believe the apron does say kiss the cook, and who am I to disrespect the ancient art of a Homegoods apron?” You grabbed Wade by the frilly sides of the apron, pulling him in for a bruising kiss. Wade’s eyes opened comically wide before he melted into your touch, quite literally melting as he gripped the counter for support.

You giggled at the dazed expression on his face, making grabby hands at Logan. Logan rolled his eyes, a fondness in the motion as he walked over and pressed his lips against Wade’s. It was softer than your kiss, but passionate all the same. Logan’s hand cupped the back of Wade’s neck, holding him in place for a moment before pulling away. Wade honest to god whined, stomping his feet a few times. “Fuck, why are both of you so god damn hot?”

The three of you ate breakfast, talking happily. You had a night off and you were looking forward to a rare quiet moment with Logan. You didn’t get to have much one-on-one time with him due to your opposite schedules, unlike Wade. You loved your lazy mornings with Wade, getting to dote on him and loving all the attention he gave you.

The day went by smoothly. You had recently gotten Animal Crossing (a much calmer game after the last Mario Kart fiasco) and you all played together for a bit. You ordered lunch, none of you feeling up to cooking at the moment, and you continued watching Hell’s Kitchen. Logan fixed a hole in the wall from the Mario Kart incident, you did the dishes from breakfast and Wade folded the laundry. It was sickeningly domestic and you loved every minute of it.

After you cooked dinner and the men bickered while on dish duty, Wade pouted as he stood by the door, mask still in hand. You were on your third ‘one last kiss’ and you gave Wade an unimpressed look when you felt his hands squeeze your ass.

“It’s my good luck charm!” Wade whined and you rolled your eyes, yet pressed one more kiss to his lips. “Gonna let me cop a feel, peanut?” Wade smirked at Logan. Logan walked over, cupping Wade’s jaw in his hand before kissing him goodbye.

“Don’t let your mouth get you in trouble, bub.” Wade groaned, letting his head thud against the door before he finally had the strength to leave.

“No R rated activities without me! Miss you already.” Wade blew kisses to you and Logan both once his mask was on and the door shut behind him with a soft click. A few beats of silence passed before you turned to Logan.

“Mario Kart?”

“Let’s fucking go.” Logan grinned, a little feral and you couldn’t help but match it. Let’s fucking go.

“You cheater! You skewered Wade for cheating last time but you’re the cheater!” You swatted Logan’s chest, him shaking from laughter, and you tossed the controller aside. “Get out of my house.”

“Bub, don’t be a sore loser,” Logan said through laughter as he pulled you into his lap, pressing a few gentle kisses to your cheeks. “I was tactful.”

“You know I’m distracted by shiny things and you whipped your claws out.” You huffed and Logan chuckled, a deep sound in his chest. “Mean.”

“Yeah, ‘m the worst.” You turned to bury your face in his neck, a satisfied smile on your lips.

“Glad we agree. I think I get date night input for that one,” you said and Logan wrapped his arms around your waist, settling his hands on your thighs.

“Sounds like a plan.” Later that night, the two of you sat on a blanket, in some grassy area away from town. A can of beer in each of your hands, you tucked into his side as you looked up at the sky.

“It’s nice to see some stars for once. I know we can see some at home, but there’s so many more out here. Can actually see a few constellations.” Logan listened as you pointed out a few, occasionally sparing you a glance as you pointed at the sky. “You’re staring,” you said after a minute, looking up at him.

“You’re beautiful,” Logan said simply and you swore there was a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. “And you’re too fuckin’ good for me. Always… always treat me so gentle. Always giving me what I don’t even realize I need.” And you did. You managed to match the energy of whoever you were with- a little crazy with Wade, but quieter with Logan. Passionate all the same, but you focused on actions with Logan over your words. Your words were deliberate with him, and your actions always solidified them. He was good, you said with a kiss to his forehead. You’re more than what they made you, you whispered as you curled into him at bedtime.

“You deserve it.” You sounded so sure, like it was an objective fact and not just your opinion. Being around you and Wade had helped with how he viewed himself, however you don’t easily erase two hundred plus years of self loathing and self deprecation. You sure took it as a challenge, though.

Logan felt his eyes burn with unshed tears and he kissed the side of your head, his lips lingering. You sat outside for a while longer until the cold started to get to you, and Logan shed his jacket, wrapping it around you before you started to head home. Music played faintly over the car radio and the quiet between you two was peaceful. He was your solace, and you were his.

iii.

You had been running around the house for hours now. This was the first big get together for Wade and Logan’s friends and you felt sick to your stomach. What if they all hated you? Wade and Logan had both tried to tell you everything would be okay, but you honest to god growled at them and both men blinked in shock as they watched you walk away.

“That’s your fault, your rabies infected her.” The claws in his side were worth it, until they heard you yell.

“If you get bloodstains on my floor, you’re both on the couch for a week!” They hurried off, Wade going to change clothes and Logan getting paper towels.

In the midst of all your prepping, you didn’t realize Wade and Logan were worried for you to meet their friends. Worried they’d combine and be too much, a subconscious whisper of concern over how their mutations would come across. The rational parts of their brains knew they had nothing to worry about- you chose to be with Wade and Logan and they definitely weren’t a walk in the park. Yet still, they worried.

Turns out none of you needed to worry because within ten minutes of everyone arriving, everything was in smooth sailing. Laura, Yukio, and Ellie had quickly pulled you into their group. Soon, the living room was full of talking and laughter, like it was a reunion of lifelong friends instead of several different new friend groups mashed together.

Logan sensed your mood shift- a subtle thing, but he couldn’t help but look at you, worried. Logan excused himself from his conversation with Elektra, walking over to you. “Can I steal you for a minute?”

“Gross, go kiss on your own time.” Laura huffed, a playful glint in her eyes.

“Brat.” Logan gently butted the heel of his palm against Laura’s head, chuckling as he took you to the privacy of your room. “Everythin’ okay, bub?”

You nodded but your eyes welled up with tears all the same, and within seconds, Logan pulled you into his chest and your shoulders shook as you silently cried.

“See, you’re saying you’re okay, but your crying has me thinkin’ otherwise.” You let out a wet laugh at his reply and you looked up at him.

“I’m so happy,” you sobbed and Logan brushed your hair back. “I’ve never… never really had a family before. Yeah, I had my parents but they were absent more often than not and then I was still just a kid when they left. I’ve lived in this house for years all by myself, then I made Wade. Then you came along, and everyone out there. I’ve always wanted this and now I finally have it.” Oh, and if that didn’t make Logan’s heart shatter for you.

A soft knock at the door interrupted and Logan looked over to see Wade walking in. “Heard someone was hogging my favorite human and- oh, honey.” Wade cooed when he saw your face. “Happy or sad tears?”

“So happy,” you whispered, opening your arm for Wade to join you. Wade quickly situated himself with the two of you and Wade pressed a kiss to the top of your head. The three of you stood together for a little longer as you pulled yourself together and you eventually pried yourself free. “Do I look like I just sobbed my eyes out?”

“So much,” Wade teased and you scowled up at him. Wade wiped under your eyes with his thumb before kissing your forehead, cheeks, nose, then lips. “You look beautiful. Hiding it very well.”

“Let’s go back. Shitty hosts we are, huh?”

The rest of the night went smoothly, all things considered. Somehow you managed to cook enough for there to be leftovers, and everyone settled in the living room as they ate and talked. You had been pulled into Wade’s lap in your search for a spot to sit and your free hand traced over Logan’s.

“How is your sanity in tact with these two?” Ellie asked and you heard the teasing tone to her words, but instinctively, you felt a surge of protectiveness crash over you at her lighthearted jab. Logan nudged your hand with his own and you took a long, slow breath.

“It’s easy,” you said with a shrug. “They’re family. Never had one of those before, but I feel like the luckiest person in the universe to be able to love them and be loved by them. They’re pains in the ass, but they’re my pains in the ass.”

“Oh, cupcake, that is the sweetest thing you could ever say about me,” Wade wailed dramatically, covering your cheek in kisses. And that was that. Neither Wade or Logan left your side for the rest of the night, even after the guests left. You stayed on the couch for a while, basking in the love you felt from your family. Family. What a wild concept that was.

iv.

Date night. An odd concept to Wade and Logan, but neither had the heart to shut you down with how excited you were.

You knew the basics of Logan’s past- he wasn’t a date night kind of guy. He had a long history of casual partners, but his relationship experience was… limited to say the least. Pairing that with his introverted nature and general dislike of being around people, he hadn’t been on many dates. None that he could remember.

And then there was Wade. Wade had dated once before, but since that ended… since he looked the way that he did, he kept his outside time limited to Deadpool time. If he braved the real world without his mask, it was typically at Sister Margaret’s or the occasional slow night at your bar. He may sound vain, but he was fairly attractive before his… transformation. You and Logan looked past his appearance, you frequently complimenting him and Logan giving him compliments every now and then that genuinely made him blue screen. But his insecurities ran further than surface level, and outside of the safety of his partners and his friend group, he felt uncomfortable showing his face. Even with his guard dogs, he could feel every double take or stare.

So when you mentioned a date, both men were apprehensive. But you promised you’d find something that would meet their comfort levels and if at any point anyone felt uncomfortable, you’d leave. End of, point blank. No questions asked. Hesitantly, they agreed and the pure excitement that lit up your expression- mixed with a bit of hope- made *some* of their worries melt away.

You were secretive about most of the planning, wanting to keep an element of surprise to the date. All you told them was you’d have privacy and they just needed to dress comfortably. The days passed and the time of your date approached, and Wade couldn’t help but feel a little sick to his stomach. Logan expressed his anxieties differently than Wade, him channeling his nerves with projects outside. Your small lawn had never looked better and your back porch had turned into a screened in porch, something you had nearly cried over from the joy you felt. Wade busied himself with his ‘housewife’ duties, laundry and tidying.

The night finally came and you had situated yourself in the drivers seat of a SUV you rented. No matter how much Wade pestered you, you didn’t relent and tell him why you had rented the vehicle when you had a perfectly fine car. You had been driving for a little while, out of the city, past the suburbs, until the flux of neighborhood lights had turned into stars littering the sky. Logan sniffed, getting a hint of food stored in the back of the vehicle and he jumped when you poked his side.

“Quit trying to spoil it!” You playfully narrowed your eyes at him, a lightness to your tone he hadn’t heard in a while. You were excited, like a kid in a toy store, and he felt his own smile grow as he looked at you. Wade leaned over the center console, whining.

“I feel so neglected back here! I still think I could sit in your lap, peanut.” Wade huffed and Logan rolled his eyes as Wade draped himself over Logan’s shoulder.

“Codependent.” Logan scoffed but made no effort to move him.

“And what about it?” Wade nudged his nose against Logan’s cheek and you smiled, watching the two of them out of your peripheral.

“Alright, I think we’re here!” You pulled into the empty grassy field, driving down the dirt path.

“Sweetness, lovingly, where the hell is here?” Wade asked. “Because it looks a little run down.”

“Patience, ye of little faith. You’ll see.” You drove further down the path and moments later, the drive in theater made itself known. There were a few other cars but it was mostly empty tonight, something you were happy to see. “It’s not as extravagant as I wanted,” you started as you parked the car. “But I figured it would be a good start to going out in public. Still private enough, but a step forward.” You didn’t meet either of their gazes, your fingers drumming against the steering wheel. “Is, um, is it okay?”

Logan moved first, unbuckling you and pulling you into his lap. He hugged you close and you curled into his chest, pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder. “I love it. Thank you.”

“You did great, cupcake.” Wade climbed across the console, awkwardly positioning himself to join the hug. “It’s perfect.” You quickly kissed Logan, then Wade, then clapped your hands lightly. “Let’s get set up.”

You got to work. You laid the back seats down then propped all the pillows up and laid out all the blankets. Wade got the radio set up while Logan helped you set the food up. You had packed some sandwiches, some other little snacks you knew everyone liked, and you made a popcorn run- ignoring Wade’s teasing ‘I thought dogs couldn’t eat corn’ directed at Logan and the playful growl that followed.

You piled into the back of the SUV, you taking your spot in the middle of the blanket pile you made. It was a bit of a tight fit, but the three of you curled together anyways, watching the (kind of shitty to be honest) horror movie that played. You spent the time together making comments about the movie, laughing and quietly talking for the duration of the movie. It felt nice to be out of the house, but normal at the same time. By the end of the double feature, you were half asleep as you looked up at Logan through your lashes.

Logan leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead, a shaky breath escaping him. “This is the most effort anyone has ever put in for me. ‘ppreciate it and you so much.”

“Happy to do it. Love you both so much.” You buried your face in Logan’s chest, missing the look he and Wade exchanged.

“We love you too.”

+1

You were going to die. You were certain of it. Between the two of them, you were going to die and be revived- just to die again. But fuck, there was no better way to go. Sitting in Wade’s lap, only the thin layers of your underwear separating you, kissing him while Logan sat behind you. Kissing down your neck and hands roaming your body as if trying to memorize every detail about you.

You whined as you rutted against Wade’s lap, a broken sound as Logan’s thumbs brushed over your nipples. You arched into his touch, wanting- no, needing- more.

“Fuck, enough fucking foreplay. Fuck me,” you huffed and Logan’s deep chuckle followed.

“Impatient, aren’t ya, needy girl?” Logan’s breath fanned against your neck, causing your skin to erupt in chills. “I think we’re just getting started. Aren’t we, Mouth?” Logan looked up at Wade, a feral gleam in his eyes. Wade’s own eyes darkened, a strangled groan leaving his mouth.

“Fuck, Wolvie. Alright, let’s get ��er prepped.” The two of them worked seamlessly, adjusting you into a more comfortable position. Wade leaned back against the headboard, you laid back against his chest. Your legs were spread, propped over Wade’s own, and Logan knelt in between your legs.

“Need you closer,” Logan grabbed your legs, propping them up against your shoulders and you whimpered at the feeling of his breath against your core. You clenched around nothing, squirming as Wade’s hands trailed up and down your body. With Logan’s help, you shimmied out of your underwear, letting them fall discarded to the floor.

Logan kissed up your thighs, moving closer and closer to where you wanted him. You bucked your hips, Logan’s grip tightening on your hips. “Patience, baby. Not going anywhere for a while.” Logan punctuated his sentence spreading your lips and licking a fat strip over your hole.

The moan that left you was Loud, your eyes rolling back into your head as you threw your head back against Wade’s chest. Wade’s hands cupped your breasts, gently squeezing and rolling your nipples in between his fingers. Wade leaned down, kissing the corner of your ear and whispering.

“Gonna be so good for us, aren’t you, sweetheart? Gonna let Logan have his fun with you, then I’ll have my turn. Not gonna be leaving this bed for a while, not until we’ve pulled so many orgasms from you.” You moaned, breath hitching as Logan lapped at your cunt, your hand gripping his hair. A low rumble left him, the vibrations shooting up your spine and your thighs squeezed against his head.

“Wanna be good, gonna be so good for you,” you said. Logan plunged his tongue in your hole and you swore you saw stars. Logan’s nose brushed against your clit as he ate your pussy like a man starved. You had figured he was good with his mouth but holy fuck. Pleased noises left him frequently, your moans and whines only spurring him on and you gripped at his hair at would had to be a painful hold, but Logan seemed to get off on it.

“Fuck, Lo- feels so fucking good. Holy shit, you feel so good. Make me feel so good,” you babbled and Logan looked up at you through his lashes, pupils dilated and eyes a little hazy, and the sight (mixed with Wade’s fingers rubbing at your clit with expertise) had you clenching down on his tongue, your thighs squeezing his head as he rode you through your first orgasm.

You honest to god pouted when Logan moved away until he crawled up to you, kissing you with such passion it made you dizzy. His tongue pressed into your mouth and the taste of you, mixed with the lingering alcohol on his lips from dinner, was intoxicating. His lips were slightly swollen when he finally parted and you knew you looked fucked out already.

“Alright, switcheroo time. About to Explode over here.” Wade spoke and to make his point, he rubbed his hard cock against your ass. You shifted, moving to straddle Wade, slowly rolling your hips down against his cock that strained against his boxers. You rubbed your hands down his chest, to his stomach, then hooked your fingers in the waistband.

“Poor baby, so neglected.” You cooed, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. You worked his boxers down, tossing them aside. “Whatcha think, pretty boy?” Wade shivered from the nickname, and you ran your hand up and down his thigh. “Does my favorite mouthy merc need my mouth? Whatever you want, baby.” One hand on Wade’s thigh, the other on his cheek.

“Mouth. Please, fucking need your mouth.” You nodded, looking over your shoulder at Logan as you slowly pumped Wade’s dick.

“Think you can handle prepping me?” You teased, smirking at Logan’s responding downright wolfish grin.

“Get comfortable, bub. Think I’m gonna get at least one more out of ya before I even consider fucking you.” And hot damn if that didn’t make you wet. You turned back to Wade, patting his thigh.

“On your back, prop your legs up. That’s it, good boy.” You snagged a pillow, positioning it under your stomach as you positioned yourself. While Logan had him beat, Wade certainly wasn’t lacking in the downstairs department and you barely stopped yourself from whining at the thought of the both of them stuffing you later.

Blinking once, you licked a stripe up the underside of Wade’s cock, smiling at the needy moan that fell from his lips. One of Wade’s hands fisted the sheets, the other moving down to grip your hair.

“Fuuuuck, fuck.” Wade moaned. You took Wade’s tip in your mouth, suckling softly, moaning when you felt Logan’s finger prodded at your entrance.

“Looks like all I needed to shut you both up,” Logan’s tone was taunting as he pushed his finger deeper, “was occupy your mouth. And get her mouth on you.” Logan moved his finger in and out as you moved your head further down Wade’s length.

“Oh, fuck off. Fucking- hnng- mouth from the gods. Shit!” Wade cursed as you hollowed your cheeks, sucking. Your nose brushed against his pelvis and you looked up at Wade through half lidded eyes.

“Fucking hell, cupcake, don’t- shit- don’t look at me like that if you want me to last.” You moaned when Logan added a second finger, Wade’s hips bucking as he felt the vibrations.

God, Wade finally fucking died and went to heaven- he could spend the rest of his life like this. The warmth of your mouth around his cock, muffled moans escaping you as you sucked his soul out of him through his dick, Logan finger fucking you from behind. Your stomach tightened, a sign you were close to cumming again, and you whined as you pushed back against Logan’s fingers.

“Gonna cum for me again, princess? Think you deserve it?” Logan asked, voice taunting as he brushed against your g-spot, the pressure almost causing you to buckle. Your pleas were muffled by the cock in your mouth and you whimpered. “What do you think, Red? I think it’s fair to make ‘er wait, until you’ve had your turn.” Logan set a relentless pace, fingers hitting just right every time, and you squirmed, jerking forward when Logan’s hand slapped your ass.

Wade moaned his agreement, hips bucking into your mouth. One of your hands held his hips, the other moving up to fondle his balls and Wade started to pant.

“Fuck, ‘m close, just like that, baby, shit!” You picked up the pace, and after one, two, three more bobs, Wade’s hands found the back of your head, holding you in place as he rode out his orgasm. You moaned as you swallowed, letting Wade pull you off. A few seconds passed before Wade was on you again, his lips against yours.

You kissed him the best you could, in between the breathy moans and whines as your orgasm got closer. Wade tilted your head up, latching onto your neck and pressing bites and sucking at the sensitive skin.

One thing you noticed quickly about the men was their love of leaving marks on you. Hickeys and scratch marks didn’t last long on Wade or Logan, their healing quickly removing the marks, but you? They lingered and it drove them crazy.

The room filled with needy whines, gasps, and a high pitched moan as your second orgasm crashed through you, and Logan continued pumping his fingers. “That’s it, darling, good girl.”

“Lo,” you whined, panting as Logan pulled out his fingers. He caressed your hip as he shifted towards Wade. A single look was all it took and Wade’s mouth was open, happily sucking Logan’s fingers clean.

“Turns out all I need to get your mouth to stop running is stuff it. Finally found a good use for that mouth, huh, Mouth?” Logan asked and Wade nodded, eyes glazed over.

You huffed from where you were underneath them and Logan squeezed your hip. “Feeling needy? How do you want us?”

And that’s how Logan ended on his back, you on top of him, and Wade behind you. You were so fucking full, impossibly full, but god you wanted more. You needed more and you raked your nails down his chest, throwing your head back against. “Fuck me like you mean it, Logan. Fill me up, make me scream so the entire street knows who I belong to.”

Going for his possessiveness was a cheap shot, but by the way his eyes darkened, a low snarl leaving him, god damn was it effective. The grip he held on your thighs was bruising, Logan and Wade thrusting into you in tandem. Wade’s chest was against your back, whispering in your ear.

“Fucking feel so good. Made for me, made for us. Gonna ruin you for anyone else, you’re ours.” Wade nipped at your ear, tugging the skin gently.

“Like I’d ever go anywhere else. You’re both mine, forever. Would, fuck!, would be happy staying in between the two of you forever.” Logan leaned up, wrapping his lips around your nipples and you arched into his touch with a properly pornographic moan. “Where, where else would I go?” You tugged Logan’s hair, tilting your head to the side so Wade had better access to your neck.

The room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, moans and whines. Logan groaned deep in his throat, his thrusts getting a little sloppier but sharper- he was close. Based on the way Wade’s grip tightened on you, his babbling being replaced by needy noises and curses, your -god, you’ve lost count at this point- orgasm approaching.

“Fuck! Fuck, love you both so much. My boys, all mine. Close, shit, so close.” An animalistic growl left Logan, Wade biting down on your shoulder, and you felt both men twitch in you. “Fill me up, make me yours.” Your babbling was cut off by a broken moan, clenching down as your orgasm hit. Your vision went white, truly seeing stars, and it felt like you ascended from your body.

You came to a moment later, laid against Logan’s chest and Wade’s leg draped over the both of you, face buried into your shoulder blades. “There she is,” Logan’s voice was rough, scratchy, but gentle all the same. “Feel better now?”

“Don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a week,” you said. You shifted slightly, looking between both Logan and Wade with a happy smile.

A low rumble filled the room and holy fuck, Logan was purring. A rough sound but soothing all the same. “Fuck, I love you both so much.” You leaned over to kiss Wade, then Logan, then leaned back against the pillows as your eyes closed. You and Wade spoke softly, Logan occasionally chipping in but happy to listen, his purr being all the input needed.

The universe sure had a weird way of working. The three of you having rough starts, losing those you loved, believing you were destined to spend the rest of your lives alone. Then Wade stumbled into your life, Logan begrudgingly joining him, and now… you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

-

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[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Late Night Calls

Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 23: Can't get to sleep

Summary: Miguel misses you.

A/N: I'm just gonna go stare out of the window.

Warnings: phone sex, lube, jacking off, reader has a job which takes them away from their home on conferences occasionally, Miguel sleeping nakied, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 941

Miguel shifts in bed, rolling over for the seventh time in two minutes. He just couldn’t settle, couldn’t find any position that was remotely comfortable. 

He grabs your pillow and buries his face into it, inhaling your scent that still lingers on the cotton. He hates when you’re away, hates it more than anything. 

He knows it’s selfish and impractical, you had an important job that you loved and it was only a few times a year that you went to a conference that he couldn’t attend with you. He’d never stop you, never voice his upset. But he misses you. Painfully. 

There’s a buzz buzz buzz of his comminator and he groans, huffing and rolling over until he realises it’s you calling. 

He answers quickly. “What’s wrong?” 

You chuckle, “Hello to you too.” 

“Baby, it’s the middle of the night-”

“Then why aren’t you asleep?” 

He pauses, “I…”

“Don’t lie.” He can hear the smile in your voice. 

“I’m having difficulty.” He mumbles, laying back down, his heart already calming at hearing you.

“I know.” “How?” 

“Lyla called me.” 

He swears and groans. 

“She said you weren’t sleeping.” 

“So she woke you up?” He says gruffly. 

“No, I have trouble sleeping without you too.” You say soothingly.

“That’s a fucking lie, you fall asleep the second you get into bed.” He scoffs.

“No,” you draw out the word teasingly, “that’s only when you’re in the bed with me.”

He mumbles something noncomitable. 

“What was that?” You laugh.

“Nothing, just grumpy noises.” 

You laugh harder and he smiles, his chest growing lighter at the sound. He shifts a little, stretching and rolls onto his back.

“I’m glad you called, miss you.” He mumbles.

“I miss you too.” 

“I miss you more.” 

You snort and he grins again. 

“I know why you can’t sleep,” he says after a moment.” 

“Oh, yeah? Why?” “I didn’t fuck your brains out beforehand.” 

You laugh harder.

“Hey,” he tries his best to interject some outrage into his voice, but it doesn't work. 

“I think that’s why you can't sleep.” You retort.

“Maybe.” You pause, you hadn’t expected him to just admit it. “Why don’t you?”

Miguel swallows thickly, “Why don’t I what?” 

“Come?” 

He wriggles a little, a shiver running down his spine. “Not the same if you’re not here.” 

“I am here.” 

He swallows thickly. 

“I think it’ll help you sleep.” You say softly. 

“Okay.” He breathes out the word, fragile and quiet on his tongue. “What… what should I do?” His voice small.

“Get the lube from the bedside table.” 

He nods, then adds a quick, “yeah,” as he rumages around in the top drawer and pulls it out. 

“Lay back down.” 

He follows your suggestions without a second thought, getting comfortable and pulling down the blankets.

“You naked?”

“Hmmm.” 

“Good boy.” 

He lets out a little groan at the sound of your voice. 

“Put your fingers on your chest.” You say softly, his mind going a little numb as he closes his eyes and places his fingers against his skin. 

“And just traiiiiill down,” you whisper. 

He groans as he strokes down his chest, picturing you above him in his mind’s eye. He shivers, his muscles jumping under the feather-light touch. 

“Tha’s it,” you say sweetly, “Now get your hand nice and wet.” 

He moans a little as he flicks open the bottle of lube and pours a hefty amount onto his palm. The sound of the cap opening is enough to make his cock twitch and harden quickly. That was definitely something to think about later. He rubs the lube in his hand, warming it slightly. “It’s wet.” He mutters.

“Want you to make a tight hole with your thumb and fingers, can you do that?” 

He nods, and then swallows, realising that you can’t see him. “Yeah, I can do that.” He moans.

“Good boy, now I want you to fuck your hand, nice and slow.” 

Miguel bites his lip, whining softly. “Okay.” He holds the base of his heavy cock, positioning it so that he can press the tight little hole he made against the tip. He shivers, his legs squirming. 

“How does it feel?”

“Good, but…” “But?” You smile.

“Made it too small.” He bites his lip with his sharp teeth. 

“You can widen it a little, but keep it as tight as possible, okay?” 

“Yes,” he mumbles breathlessly, “I will.” 

“Good boy Miguel, you drag it down your cock.” 

He groans loudly, thrusting up slowly in time with his hand. 

“Take your time, get all the way to the bottom.” 

He huffs, trying to stop his hips from bucking wildly. 

“And all the way up.”

Miguel groans loudly, the deep sound of his slick hand echoing. 

“You keep doing that, nice and slow.” You mutter. 

He whimpers ever so slightly, his breathing catching in his throat. 

After five more long, agonising pumps you whisper, “a little faster.” 

“Thank you,” he shivers, picking up the pace ever so slightly. 

Three more pumps, “Faster.”

“Fuck.” He misses you so fucking much, needs you there with him now to wrap your arms around him and play with his hair as you tease him. 

“Faster.” 

He whines again, high pitched, his balls tightening. “I’m gonna come.” 

“So soon?” You tease. 

“Yeah,” he whimpers, “miss you, want you, need you- oh!” He comes hard, shooting robs of warm cum all over his stomach as he cries out your name. 

He breathes hard as aftershocks roll through him. 

You giggle playfully. “Did you make a mess?” 

“Yes.” He pouts. “A big one.” 

You bite your lip. “Can I see?” 

“I’ll send you a picture.” 

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