#just gotta wait it out and deal w it

[comingtoyoursenses]

Cried extremely hard about my dad having cancer , the environment being mauled, and systematic injustice so now my girlfriend is walking with me to get ice cream

[phagodyke]

yeah I'm not gonna talk abt it am I...

[acircusfullofdemons]

I was not meant for retail I was meant to be an eldritch librarian's assistant

[welcometogrouchland]

I will feel so tired that it's like my atoms are coming undone and I'm being made unreal...and then I will have a little chocolate treat and for 15 minutes I am whole and present again. Then the horrors

[javiscigarette]

Teacher's Pet

Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Summary: 25 years old, anxiety-ridden, and still a virgin, you ask your friend Joel for advice on your upcoming date. But you're more of a...hands-on learner. And he's more than happy to help. 

Warnings: PWP, unbalanced power dynamics, virgin!reader, neighbor/bff/more experienced! Joel, age gap, first kiss, virginity loss, fingering, oral (f receiving), frequent check-ins, soo much banter and Joel is a menace also so soft and sweet :')....(ends on a cliffhanger but there will be a part two I swear).

w/c: 7.7k idk what happened

a/n: I am resurfacing for your monthly reminder that I do in fact still write!! Inspiration for this came out of literally nowhere but I took it and RAN with it and I think I like it?? As always, thank you to my baby love @undrthelights for helping me with this and always listening to my rambling and for being my biggest enabler Ilysm

Part Two

my masterlist

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever." Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck pound in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed. "A what?" "Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head.  "No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

"Seriously, Joel. Fuck off" you snap but with no bite or heat behind it. You bring the sweating bottle of beer to your lips and finish the rest of the now lukewarm liquid off in one gulp. 

"What? I just find it hard to believe that you've never even had a kiss. Didn't you go to high school? Didn't you ever get invited to a party? Didn't you go to college? College kids do the do like all the time” 

"Clearly not all the time" you mutter, a tad bitterly.

Joel raises his hands defensively and takes a sip of his own beer. "Just seems crazy is all. There's gotta be some chick or dude out there willing to take pity on you and pop your cherry."

You audibly gag at his choice of words. "I don't need a pity fuck, thanks." You stand from the couch and head over to the fridge. The bottles of cold alcohol inside are calling your name and you want something that will help soothe your nerves. You're not a big drinker, but when Joel is prying into your love life like he is now, you wish you were.

"Okay,” he starts from the living room. “Maybe I worded that wrong. What I meant to say was, there's gotta be someone out there who would be more than willing to show you a good time."

You groan and let your forehead fall against the fridge door. "That's the whole point! I came here to get advice for my date, someone who might actually be interested in me, and all you've done is make fun of me for not having fucked anyone yet. So thanks, Joel. You're a real pal."

You push away from the fridge and slam the door shut, a second beer in hand.

"Alright, alright, calm down." He says, hands in the air as if you were holding him at gunpoint as you head back to the couch. "Look, if this guy really likes you then he's not gonna care. Probably won't even be able to tell if you are or aren't."

"You think so?" You ask hopefully.

"Well, I mean, unless you're like... super bad."

Your heart drops into your stomach and you glare at him, "Joel."

"Oh come on, I'm kidding. You're not gonna be bad, okay? Just, go into it with an open mind and just relax. If he tries something you're not comfortable with or makes you feel weird, tell him. And if he gets pissy, dump his ass."

"That simple, huh?" You scoff.

"Well, yeah. You're the one who made it complicated by thinking it was a big deal."

"It is a big deal, Joel! I know nothing!

"Nothing? You ain’t ever watched porn? Jesus, I had no idea you were such a prude."

You can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and slapping the back of your hand against his arm. He yelps and laughs, rubbing his arm.

"I've watched porn before" you retort. 

"What kind?" he asks with a wiggle of his brows.

"None of your fucking business" you respond, feeling your face heat up.

Joel's lips quirk into a shit-eating grin and you're quick to smack him again.

"Okay okay, sorry!" he says through his laughter. "So what exactly are you afraid of?"

You're not really sure how to answer. It's a combination of so many things, most of which are irrational fears and insecurities. Sure you've seen it all done before, but you're well aware that none of it is realistic. At least, not completely. And just the fact that you're freshly 25 years old without a single notch in your bedpost makes you dizzy with anxiety. It's not like you're saving yourself or anything, it's just that hook up culture has never agreed with you and there's never been an opportunity that made you feel like it was the right one. That is until now, with your cute coworker who you thought was miles out of your league asking you out on a third date. And now, the prospect of being in bed with him is looming over you like a dark cloud and the last thing you want to do is mess it up.

"I guess, I'm just afraid that he's gonna be disappointed, or I'm gonna weird him out, or I'm gonna do something wrong and embarrass myself.” Joel nods along and listens. "And if it is bad then we still have to work with each other and then what if it's awkward and everyone knows about it and then he hates me and--"

"Okay, whoa slow down there, buddy" Joel says, putting a hand on your shoulder. "One, you're overthinking this. You're literally thinking like, five steps ahead of what's actually going on. It's a date. And even if it does end up in the bedroom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to. No one's forcing you, okay? He can't. No one can."

"I know, but I want to," you reply quietly.

"Alright. Then do."

"I don't know howwww!! " you whine, flopping backwards into the couch.

Joel groans and sits up a little straighter, scrubbing a hand down his face. 

"Well, there's no magic trick, I don't have a secret sex manual I'm holding out on ya."

You sigh, shoulders sagging as you look over at him. The idea comes out of nowhere, well, not exactly from nowhere, but it pops in your head so fast that you then have to bite your tongue before the words bubbling up from your throat come tumbling out. 

It's not a bad idea, not necessarily. 

You've been good friends with Joel ever since you moved in next door last year. An unlikely pairing, a 40 year old contractor and an almost 25 year old office worker. But after offering him a six pack as part of introducing yourself to the neighbors, you'd gotten along fabulously. He fixes things around your house and you send him home with hot dinners and warm, gooey cookies and you watch movies together almost every Friday night.

 It's an easy friendship, open and honest and supportive, and Joel has never given you reason not to trust him. He's a good guy, if not a little brash, but you know deep down he means well. And it doesn't hurt that he's objectively attractive, with his tall and sturdy frame, strong, calloused hands, dark messy curls....It's not a bad idea.

It's an absolutely insane idea. 

You continue to stare at him, clenching your teeth together to hold back the question sitting on the tip of your tongue.

"What?" he says, looking back at you.

"Nothing" you mutter, eyes flicking away.

"You've got that face you make when you're about to say something really stupid, so just get it out."

You glare at him again, not enjoying the way he can read you so well.

"I wasn't gonna say anything."

"Well now you're lying."

"I'm not."

"You're doing it again!"

"Doing what?!"

"That face!"

"I'm not making a face!"

"Yes you are! Just spit it out!"

You groan and hide your face in your hands. You blame it on the one beer even though you know you’re not anywhere close to being drunk because how else would you justify what you’re about to say? You wait a moment, thinking about the weight of it but your mouth opens before you can stop yourself. 

"Fine! What if, hypothetically speaking of course, you were to, hypothetically, give me a, um, hypothetical, lesson or whatever."

Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel your pulse throb in your neck and hear it in your ears. You slowly drag your hands away from your face and look at him. He stares right back at you, brows furrowed.

"A what?"

"Forget it. forget I said anything,” you mutter, shaking your head. 

"No no wait, hang on, what do you mean? A lesson? Like a…a sex lesson?” 

His eyes are wide, and he looks incredulous. You can't blame him, because the more time that passes between your suggestion and now, the more ridiculous the idea seems.

"I’m sorry, that was…It was stupid. Pretend I didn't say anything. Let's just watch a movie." You move to grab the remote, but Joel's hand covers yours, stopping you.

"Is that what you want?"

You look at him, searching his expression for any sign of disgust or apprehension. But all you can see is the same Joel you've known for months, patient, warm, and understanding.

"I know. I know it's stupid. But I can't get this date out of my head, Joel. It's all I can think about and the more I do, the more worried I get and I just don't want to fuck it up. And I know we're friends and this is weird and gross, but I just thought that... maybe, I could have some practice, so to speak."

He doesn't say anything. Just keeps looking at you, the panic rising in your chest the longer the silence stretches. You start to fidget, wringing your hands together in your lap.

"I'm sorry, that was way out of line" you say, moving to stand up, your skin sweaty and hot with embarrassment and your feet ready to run out the door and never come back. 

But Joel catches your wrist, gently pulling you back down to sit next to him.

"Joel" you whine, not wanting him to humiliate you any further.

"It's okay, come here."

His voice is softer than before, and his eyes are kind. You let him pull you closer, the two of you sitting knee to knee. You can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, not with your cheeks and the tips of your ears burning like they are, but Joel doesn't push. He simply moves his hand from your wrist, sliding it into yours. His palms are rough and warm, and the simple touch alone is comforting.

"You really wanna do this?” he asks softly. You can feel his eyes boring into you. “I mean, I'm not exactly a prize winning catch. And it's not like there's a shortage of willing men out there."

You shrug and chew the inside of your lip.

"Yeah, but you're my friend and I...I trust you."

There's another pause, and you wish that you could just disappear into the couch and erase this moment from your memory.

"How drunk are you?" he asks, glancing at the beer bottle on the coffee table.

"You saw me finish one bottle. And half of another. I’m barely tipsy."

"Not drunk?”

"Nope."

"You're gonna remember this tomorrow."

"Uh huh."

"And you still want to?"

You groan for the millionth time and squeeze his hand.

"Yes I want to! Look, if you don't want to then that's fine. It was just a dumb suggestion and we can just forget this ever happened."

He hums, considering your words. His hand slips out of yours, and you think that's it, you've scared him off and washed the friendship down the drain. That you'll have to hide from him from now on, that you'll have to pack your things up and move because the mortification would be too much, and that he'll hate you, and—

His two fingers sliding under chin surprise you, and he tilts your head up. He's looking down at you with that same even expression, eyes big, soft, and warm as he slides his hand over to cup your jaw in his palm. 

"If you want to stop at any point, just say so, okay? I won't be upset and we can go back to the way things were before. Got it?"

You nod, your throat suddenly too tight to speak. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone, the tender touch is enough to make your heart skip a beat. There’s no way this is actually happening. That your first kiss is going to be with your 40 year old menace of a neighbor. That you’re going to, how did you put it, get a sex lesson from him. His gaze flicks down to your lips and back up to your eyes and you’re positive you’re no longer able to breathe. 

"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly. You nod. 

You're sure he can hear the thumping of your heart in his own ears as he leans down. His other hand comes to rest on your hip and when his lips touch yours, a soft, tentative pressure, you're not prepared for the electricity that shoots through you.

He's barely done anything and already you feel like you're floating. Your own hands reach out to clutch his shirt, keeping him close, afraid he'll pull away and leave you cold and wanting if you don't. But he stays put, pressing himself against you, his lips working gently against yours. You follow his lead, kissing him back while trying not to overthink it.

It's nothing like the kisses in the movies or the books, where fireworks explode behind your eyelids or where your foot pops up in the air. It's far more subdued, more quiet and subtle. But the warmth that pools low in your belly and the goosebumps that erupt on your skin when his tongue slides against the seam of your lips, light and quick, makes you absolutely melt. 

He pulls back before you can really react, and you're left with a dizzying rush of both blistering desire and excruciating anxiety. You want to pull him back in and never let him go. But your heart is beating so fast you can hardly breathe, your nerves are buzzing, and the urge to run and hide is nearly paralyzing. 

"Was it bad?" you ask tentatively, cheeks heated.

"No" he replies, giving your hip a squeeze as a smirk plays on his lips. "It was fucking awful. Worst kiss of my life"

"Shut up!" you hiss, pushing him away with a hand on his chest. He laughs, the sound easing some of the tension in your body. 

"I'm just teasing" he says, voice dropping lower. "C'mere, we can work on it."

His lips find yours again, and you try not to smile into the kiss but it's hard when you can feel the way his lips are quirked up as well. It doesn’t take much else to get you to relax and let yourself fall into the moment, into the gentle press of his mouth and the warm hands on your hip and your cheek. He swipes his tongue against your lips again, his fingers pressing lightly into the hinge of your jaw to tilt your head back and coax your lips apart.

You let him, sighing as his tongue glides across yours, hot and smooth and sweet. Your hands slide up his chest, finding purchase around his shoulders, and when you move forward, pushing yourself against him, he grunts softly but lets you. He kisses you until the both of you are gasping for air, and when he pulls back, his lips are wet and red and you're certain yours must be as well.

"Better?" you ask, a bit breathless.

"Getting there" he answers with, his breath warm where it fans across your cheek. 

"You're such a liar" you say with a goofy smile.

"Yeah, I know. Now try again, practice makes perfect.” 

You roll your eyes but lean back in nonetheless. It's a bit more heated this time, the feeling of his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip making you squirm. His hand rounds over your hip, palm smoothing to the small of your back to pull you closer, the heat of his body radiating through your clothes and warming your skin. Your hands move on their own accord, no thought behind the action as they slide up to his shoulders and then his neck, your fingers finding home in the curls at the base of his skull. When you give them a slight tug, you're rewarded with a muffled grunt from Joel. Emboldened, you pull back, lips swollen and tingling.

"You’re a good kisser,” you pant. "Is that something people usually say?"

"When it’s true" he says, grinning at you. "And since I know you're gonna ask, I'd say that was a C+, maybe a B-."

You scoff but blush furiously at the smile he flashes, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

"Well then, tell me what to do next. What do I need to know?"

Joel hums as he thinks for a moment. 

"What do you want to do?"

You stare at him for a second, blinking.

"I don't know, that's why I'm asking you" you say, shaking your head a bit.

"Well, how far do you want to take this?"

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling very shy. You can’t deny that when the idea popped in your head it was accompanied by the mental image of you naked, spread out on his bed, but the actual act of asking him, or better yet, actually doing it is... intimidating to say the least. Are you really about to let him go all the way, to see you bare and vulnerable, let him pop your cherry as he would disgustingly put it? All just to “prepare” for a date with a guy who might not even like you that way?

Yeah, probably.

"All the way" you answer. “I want to go all the way” 

He doesn’t pounce on you like you expected, doesn’t press his lips against yours in a frenzied kiss that you had half hoped for. Instead, he simply looks at you, his brown eyes boring into yours, searching.

"Are you sure? You can always say no and you're not gonna lose me as a friend if this isn’t what you actually want. I don’t want you thinking that."

You can't help the laugh that bubbles up and slips out, because of course Joel, your kind, thoughtful Joel, would say that. He's a good man. A great one, even.

"Yes, I'm sure. But if you don't want to, I get it, I can just leave and-"

Joel laughs, the sound traveling up from deep in his chest, the rumble vibrating against you.

"Sweetheart, I wouldn't be doin’ this if I didn't want to. Just makin’ sure this is what you really want."

"I want it.” 

He squeezes your hip and swipes a thumb over your cheekbone once again. 

“Alright then.” He nods, firm and resolute, and then looks around the room. “ We’re not doing it here, though. If you're getting the full Joel Miller experience, we're gonna do it right.” 

Your eyes roll reflexively, but your heart picks up its pace regardless.

"I’m not gonna do anything if you call it that ever again."

"Fine, fine,” he relents. “Let me show you what a good, thorough fucking feels like. Better?"

Your jaw drops, and he's laughing at you, his body shaking with amusement.

"Fuck you" you grumble, shoving him away while trying to hide your coy smile. 

"Yeah, that's what I'm hoping for," he says with a wide, self-assured grin.

"I'm leaving" you declare with a false sense of offense as you rise to your feet. Joel is quick to do the same and before you can take a single step away, he slips a finger through the belt loop of your jeans and tugs you back into him, wrapping an arm around your waist.

"I’ll stop, I’ll stop. I'm sorry" he says, not sounding it one bit.

You huff, but let him pull you closer until you’re pressed against his chest and you have to tilt your head back to look at him.

"I’ll be good. I promise."

"Liar"

"Well, yeah. But I can promise that I'll make you feel good."

You can't help the giggle that spills out and he kisses it away, his lips warm and plush and sweet against yours. The hand not resting on your lower back comes up, curling around the nape of your neck and keeping you close. You sink into him, and the fog creeps in again, dulling the rest of the world, making it seem fuzzy and distant, like the memory of a dream. All you can focus on is him, the warm solid weight of him against you, the strong arms holding you, the way his mouth moves against yours. And then he’s pulling back all too soon and you have to stifle a whine.

"Come on" he says, tugging at your hand.

His bedroom is dim, the little lamp on his nightstand and the faint glow of the moon through the curtains providing the only light. You swallow and take a deep breath as you step inside, your bare toes digging into the plush carpet, his hand warm and large where it grips yours.

He holds onto you as he sits on the edge of the bed. You step forward, letting him pull you between his knees. His hands settle on your hips, and you can feel their heat through the fabric of your shirt.

He doesn’t ask if you're sure again and you’re grateful because you’re not sure if you could form any kind of response right now. Instead, he slides his hands up and under your shirt, fingers dancing across your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your breath hitches as his hands smooth over your ribs and around to your back, the tips of his fingers mapping out the curve of your spine, skimming over each notch and bump. They climb higher, the fabric of your shirt bunching around his wrists. 

“Can I take this off, baby?”

Your heart jumps to your throat but you nod anyway. He grabs the hem and tugs your shirt up and and you lift your arms so he can slip it off over your head. He tosses it aside, the fabric falling to the floor beside the bed. You’re left exposed, vulnerable and bare, save for the worn out bra you wear, a few too many washes and a few years past its prime.

Your hands itch where they hang by your side with the instinct to cover yourself, hide the imperfections that you know so well, the stretch marks, the softness of your stomach, the way the cups of your bra are just a bit too small and spill over the tops.

But then he’s pressing his lips to the space just above your navel, his scruff tickling your skin and making the muscles in your abdomen jump and twitch. His hands find your waist again, and when his lips continue their path upwards, his palms follow, skimming up your sides, thumbs tracing the outline of your ribs before stopping at the band of your bra.

"This too?" he asks, voice quiet and husky.

"Yeah" you answer with a squeak, and he grins like a kid in a candy store.

His fingers undo the clasp deftness that makes your knees go weak, the straps slipping from your shoulders and the whole thing sliding down your arms, landing somewhere near your shirt. 

"God, baby, look at you" he murmurs, his hands cupping the underside of your breasts, his thumbs sweeping over the tops and then down the slope and around your nipple. Your breath hitches, the gentle touch sending a shiver up your spine. "You're fucking perfect."

The praise is unexpected and it sends a jolt of heat through your core. You whimper quietly and his hands are on you again, the calloused palms rough on the soft skin of your breasts. He kneads the flesh, squeezing gently before rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling and pinching and teasing. 

He pulls you closer and ducks his head, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes dark and hooded, and his pupils blown wide with desire.

"Can I?" he asks.

"Please."

He leans in and wraps his lips around a peaked nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub, the gentle heat of his mouth on your skin making your knees weak.

His mouth works on one breast, tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand continues its work on the other. Pleasure builds and coils deep inside, the sensation unfamiliar but certainly not unwelcome. You whimper and he pulls away, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before giving it a sweet parting kiss.

He turns his attention to the other, his teeth grazing over the stiff peak and drawing a whine from your lips. He sighs when your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling at the strands until he groans softly against you. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, the flat of his tongue pressing against it and dragging up and around, swirling and flicking. You’re already breathless, panting, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on your forehead.

"Feels good, Joel," you whisper shyly. 

"I know, honey" he says, a soft smile pulling at his lips when he pulls away. "Feel good anywhere else?"

He doesn't wait for a response, simply slips a hand between your thighs, cupping you through the denim, the simple action making you squeak.

"Here, huh?" he says, the heel of his palm pressing against you.

You gasp softly and nod, biting your lip, too shy to say anything.

"Get on the bed, baby."

You comply, crawling onto the mattress and scooting backwards towards the pillows, sitting at the head of the bed as you watch him. His eyes never leave you as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it onto the floor. Your heart thumps as you stare at his bare chest, his tanned skin dotted with a light dusting of salt and pepper hair. He's broad, his shoulders thick and chest solid. Your fingers burn with the urge to reach out and touch him, so you do, extending a tentative, slightly shaky hand.

He watches you closely, eyes flitting down to the palm pressed against his chest before meeting yours again, his mouth curling into a smile.

"You can touch" he says, reaching down to curl a hand around your wrist and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the center of your palm before guiding your hand back down to his chest. "I think most people would enjoy that."

"You're having entirely too much fun with this,” you mumble while your fingers spread out across his pec.  

"It is fun" he counters, his own hand sliding up the inside of your thigh, thumb pressing against the seam of your jeans and rubbing up and down. "But it'll be more fun once these come off"

Your lips part, a puff of air rushing out.

"You gonna take them off?" you ask, the words slipping out, bold and unbidden.

He grins, his brow quirking up.

"Look at you, being all bossy"

"You like it" you say, finally feeling some of the anxiety slipping away, the familiar and comfortable banter between the two of you slipping into place in a new, unfamiliar situation.

His smile takes up nearly his whole face as moves closer. 

“I sure do.” 

He looms over you, bracing himself on an elbow next to your head before ducking down to kiss you, his tongue easily slipping into your mouth, warm and insistent. You sigh into it, your hands finding the warm, bare skin of his back, muscles gliding beneath your palms as you slide them up and around, fingertips digging into his shoulders. He's so warm and solid and you can't help the little noise that slips out, a soft, needy moan. You're about to break the kiss and beg him to touch you, give you something, anything, but he pulls back before you can. 

"Impatient. I like that too" he says, voice barely above a whisper.

He kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then down your neck, his beard scraping against your skin. He continues his path, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses across your collarbones and down the valley between your breasts, his beard tickling your sternum.

His palm presses into the top of your thigh, and you instinctively open your legs for him, his hand immediately moving to cup you through the denim, thick fingers pressing against the seam and the bundle of nerves just below. Your hips rock up, seeking more pressure and he grins, entirely too pleased with himself right now.

You huff, and he laughs, the sound rumbling in his chest, but he relents, undoing the button and zipper of your jeans and tugging the fabric down, revealing the pair of pink panties underneath. 

Joel sits up, pulling your jeans down your legs and letting them drop off the side of the bed, the sound of the denim hitting the floor indicating that you've officially crossed a line that neither of you can come back from. But if the hungry, desperate look on his face and the way you're practically vibrating underneath him are any indication, neither of you want to.

"I'll start with just my fingers, yeah?" he says, his hands running up the insides of your thighs, touch light and teasing, the tips of his fingers brushing the edge of your panties. You nod dumbly, at a complete loss for words right now.

He ducks his head, his lips landing on the smooth skin stretched over your hip bone. You squirm, ticklish, and he grins. His mouth is a great distraction from his hand, which has found its way back in between your legs, his fingers now pressing against damp fabric.

"Shit" he curses, his touch firm. "Fuckin' soaked already. Am I just that good?" he quips with a smirk.

"Jesus do you ever shut up" you gripe, but the effect is ruined by the whimper that escapes you when his thumb sweeps up, pressing hard against your clit. 

"Oh, that's a pretty sound" he murmurs, repeating the motion to pull out another one, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Now," he starts, his tone shifting to the same one he uses when he's about to impart some life lesson. "This guy you're gonna see, or any man for that matter, should always take care of you before himself. That's just common fuckin' sense. And if he doesn't, you send him on his way" he continues. "Because a man that don't wanna see a woman get off is no fuckin' man at all"

You're about to interrupt, tell him he's an idiot and ask him to please, please, get on with it, but his fingers sliding under the elastic of your panties, swiftly pulling them down your legs steals the breath from your lungs. Your pulse sky rockets and you shift underneath him, crossing your thighs in instinctual effort to hide yourself from him. 

"M'sorry I didn't shave or anything" you blurt out, your throat tight with anxiety and embarrassment once again 

Joel just shakes his head as he pries your legs apart.

"Baby, I could not give less of a shit about that."

"But-"

"No" he says, the word firm, an edge of command to his tone. "You’re not apologizin’ for that. And if a man gives a shit, he's a fuckin' child who doesn't deserve the honor of bein' between these thighs" he says, pushing your knees further apart.

You nod and bite your lip, the words that are just so very Joel, settling in your chest and easing the tension in your body. You let out a long, slow breath and relax, trying to ease the nervousness.

"There ya go" he says, his fingers dancing along your slit, gathering the slick pooling there. You shudder at the gentle touch, your hips rolling up just a bit before you force them back down into the mattress, trying to keep yourself still.

"Nuh-uh. None of that" he says, immediately noticing the movement. He slides his free hand under you, his palm pushing into the small of your back and encouraging you to move again, to lean into your pleasure. "You take what you want, baby. Show me how good it feels. That's all I wanna see."

You squirm and whimper, the simple, almost lazy touch driving you insane. You've touched yourself before, brought yourself over the edge while imagining what it would be like to have the things you read about and watch in videos happen to you. But you've never managed to make yourself feel this good, never felt pleasure so intense, never felt a burning pressure in your abdomen so demanding that it radiates all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

And he's barely touched you.

"How's that feel?"

You can't even form the words, so you just nod and hum, the sound a mix of a whimper and a moan, your hips rolling up against his palm. He chuckles, and then the pressure increases, the friction building, his fingers slipping down, collecting more of your wetness to ease the drag against your skin.

He moves his fingers down, down, down, the tip of one circling your entrance, gathering the wetness pooling there. You whine loudly, any shame and modesty you once had replaced entirely with desperate need and pure desire.

"Please, Joel" you whisper, voice shaky.

"I gotcha" he says, dipping his fingertip in, just barely, and pulling a moan from deep in your chest. "Gonna give you what you need"

You groan, a long, low sound as he slowly sinks his finger into you. It's nothing like your own, so perfectly thick and long/ And you found the spot before, the spot that he curls his finger up into, but never at this angle, never with the perfect amount of pressure that he's applying right now. 

"Mmm, look at that" he coos as you clench tightly around his finger.

"Joel, god, feels so good" you whimper pathetically. 

"I know, honey, I know."

You clench again, the cockiness and self-assured attitude that usually gets under your skin now ignites your whole body in an entirely different way. He keeps his eyes on your face, watching as your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth drops open, your head tipping back as the pleasure builds.

"Another" you beg, the fullness not nearly enough.

"Greedy girl" he chides, but he pulls his finger out, and slides two back in. You swear that you could come from this alone, but he doesn't let you, the hand that was supporting your lower back disappearing, only to reappear between your thighs, his thumb circling your clit with firm, steady strokes.

White hot pleasure wraps around the base of your spine, the dual sensations of his fingers and his thumb sending you spiraling. The sounds falling from your lips are unrecognizable, high and desperate as your mind goes blissfully blank, your entire focus on the heat coiling in your abdomen. Your eyebrows pinch together and you bury your face in the pillow next to your head, trying to hide the ridiculous expression you're surely making, but you inhale the traces of his shampoo and cologne that cling to the fabric, the scent pushing you even closer to the edge. 

You try to hold back. Surely you're not supposed to come this quickly, not just from two fingers and a thumb. Surely that's a sign that you're an easy lay, or too inexperienced, or-

"Just let it happen, baby. I can feel it, Just let go" Joel says, his voice cutting through the thoughts racing through your mind, his fingers crooking inside you and dragging across the spot that makes your hips stutter and a cry fall from your lips.

You can't hold back any longer, the pleasure cresting and crashing down around you. You squeeze his fingers, your back arching, the heels of your feet digging into the mattress as you roll your hips up into his touch, seeking more and more and more. And he gives and gives and gives, working you through it and drawing it out for as long as he can before you melt into the mattress, bones and muscles liquid and warm and satisfied.

He pulls his fingers out, and the sudden emptiness draws a disappointed whine from you, his answering chuckle making you smile.

"That was- fuck" you sigh, not quite capable of coherent thought.

"Absolutely mind-blowing? Yeah I know" he teases. You roll your eyes but don't say anything because it's true, and his cocky grin fades into a soft smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watches you return to Earth. 

"Can I- can I return the favor?" you ask, your gaze flicking down to the noticeable bulge in his jeans.

He grunts and shakes his head.

"Not yet. Got somethin' else in mind."

You frown and push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as he shifts from his position. You're about to ask what he's going to do until he's settling himself on his stomach between your thighs. You suck in a sharp breath as you realize exactly what he's got planned and your heart jumps, anxiety clouding your mind once again. 

He rests his cheek on your thigh, his eyes meeting yours.

"Alright?"

You swallow and nod, licking your lips.

"Yeah. Just... no one's ever-"

"Yeah, I got that much, that's why we're here" he says, smiling smugly when you glare at him. 

"But what if it's not good? Or I don't taste good? Or-"

"Stop" he says, the single word halting your runaway train of thought. "You need lessons in relaxing, not sex. You're so fucking tense all the time"

"Sorry" you say, immediately cringing.

He sighs, his breath ghosting over the skin of your inner thigh, making you shiver. "What did I say about apologizin'?" he says, his tone slightly sharp.

"I know. Sorry- shit, sorry! Fuck!"

He barks out a laugh and you huff, bringing up both hands to scrub over your face.

"See what I mean?"

"Yes, yes, you're very smart and know everything"

He hums and nips at your thigh.

"Damn right I do."

You want to snark back, but his mouth is moving, his lips trailing down the inside of your thigh and towards where you're aching for him, slick and wet and throbbing. He takes his time, laying kisses on your thighs, hips, and stomach, his scruff scraping the sensitive skin, huffing out a laugh when you start to squirm, your patience wearing thin.

His hands smooth over the soft flesh of your inner thighs, urging you to spread them wider before spreading you open with his thumbs, exposing you completely. You feel exposed, vulnerable, and the urge to close your legs and hide yourself from his gaze is overwhelming, the embarrassment making your skin burn. But before you can even think about closing them, his tongue is on you, sliding up the length of you and circling your clit. The moan that escapes you is embarrassingly loud and high pitched, but the mortification is easily swallowed up by the pleasure.

He hums against you, the sound and the feeling sending a shudder through your body. Your hands grip the pillow behind your head and you try not to buck up into his mouth, but your attempts are futile. He doesn't seem to mind though, in fact you think it spurs him on, his tongue flattening against you and lapping at you messily, the wetness he's coaxed from you smearing across his mouth and chin.

The sound is lewd and obscene, the sloppy, slick noises and the soft grunts and groans that rumble in his chest as he works you up. He pulls back, his breath coming out in pants, his chest heaving as he looks up at you, his eyes dark and hooded.

"Don't know what you were worried about" he says, his voice low and raspy. "You taste fuckin' divine"

His beard is shiny and damp, his lips glistening, hair messy from where your fingers were tangled in it. The sight of him looking so completely disheveled and filthy has you clenching around nothing, the ache almost too much to bear.

He doesn't say anything else, just ducks his head and gets back to work, his mouth moving with a renewed urgency, his hands gripping your thighs and pushing them further apart, allowing him better access.

Your eyes roll back and your mouth falls open, a constant stream of moans and whines and babbling pleas and praises falling from your lips, but you're not really sure what you're saying, not really sure of anything except the intoxicating pleasure coursing through your veins.

You hear him moan, can feel the vibration against your skin, and you glance down at him, and that's a mistake. The sight of him, his eyes closed and brows drawn together in concentration, his cheeks hollowed out as he sucks and nips and laps at you and– is he fucking grinding his hips into the mattress?

You're fucked.

A throaty moan tumbles past your lips as your hips start to rock, a rhythm forming as you chase your orgasm. His hands leave your thighs and he slides one arm up, the weight of it resting against your abdomen to keep you still while his other hand snakes down, fingers dipping inside again, finding the spot that makes you see stars.

"Fuck, Joel, please, oh my god, I'm so- please"

He groans in response, the hand on your stomach pressing down harder to meet the two fingers curling and stroking inside of you. You cry out at the increased pressure right as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bud, his fingers moving faster and faster. Flames lick up your spine and spread throughout your body, threatening to burn you alive. 

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, knocking the wind out of you and turning your limbs to jello. Wave after wave of blinding euphoria crashes over you and all you can do is cling to the pillow and arch your back, your toes curling as he continues to work his fingers and tongue, happily letting you ride his face and grind into his mouth.

He doesn't let up, not until you're a whimpering, trembling mess, physically pushing his head away when it becomes too much. He pulls back reluctantly, a wicked grin plastered to his face, his chin and mouth absolutely soaked. You're panting, struggling to catch your breath as the aftershocks make you shiver despite the content warmth spreading throughout your entire body.You feel sated and sleepy, a bone deep satisfaction making you feel boneless. 

But as you come down from your high, rational thoughts start to filter in and you suddenly remember the reason this all started in the first place.

You're here to learn, he should be teaching you how to please a man.

How to please him. 

You watch as he gets off the bed and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. Your eyes shamelessly rake over him, the dusty pink flush that decorates his neck and chest, the curve of his belly down to the impressive bulge in his jeans. 

You push yourself up, ignoring the way your arms tremble with the effort. He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face no doubt looking for signs of distress.

"You ok?" he asks, eyebrows pinched together in his typical concerned Joel fashion.

"Yeah" you say, a little breathlessly. "But I still want to..."

Your voice trails off and you glance down at his crotch, hoping he gets the message.

"That's alright, baby. It's a lot, we don't-"

"No" you interrupt, a hint of desperation in your voice. "You said you would teach me. Please, Joel. I-I wanna learn" You hope it's a good enough cover to the fact that you really just want him, your original goal forgotten. "I just don't want to embarrass myself" you add, pouting slightly for good measure, praying to god that he can’t detect the underlying want for him and him only.

He watches you for a moment, seemingly contemplating his decision. And then his eyes narrow, because of course he knows. There's never been an instance where you succeeded in lying to this man. He always, always knows when something is off.

"Alright" he says, a slow smile spreading across his face, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. "Dick sucking class is now in session"

You groan, your face twisting with visible disgust.

"Oh my god, that was terrible."

"What? It's true" he says with a shrug.

"That is- no, no way. Never say those words ever again. Ever." you say, pointing a finger at him accusingly.

"Or what?" he challenges, taking a step towards the bed.

You gulp and lick your lips.

"Or..."

He waits expectantly for a response. You have none, so you just shake your head and look away.

"Yeah, that's what I thought"

You glare at him and then sigh.

"You're a bully"

"Am I?” He asks, taking a step back to give you more room. “ 'Cause you're the one that asked me to teach ya. On your knees, kid. Let's see whatcha got."

You chew on the inside of your cheek, trying to suppress a grin. You don't know how he does it, but his ability to make a joke or a quip out of anything always has a smile tugging at the corner of your lips, even when the jokes are awful and the puns are terrible. Even when the joke is about you getting ready to suck his dick. 

"You're a bully and a pervert" you say, sliding off the bed and sliding to your knees, the plush carpet doing a decent job at protecting your joints.

"And proud of it.”

"Pride is a sin."

"So is premarital sex, so I'll see you in hell, honey"

You snort and look up at him from your place on the floor, grinning widely.

"You're ridiculous"

"You love it"

And that's the thing, isn't it?

Because you do. You love his innate ability to make you laugh, to make you smile even when he's about to take your fucking virginity. He knows how to comfort you, how to put you at ease, when to push you with his teasing and when to pull back and let you take control. You've never met a person who has so effortlessly made their way into your heart.

And here you are, on your knees for him under the false pretense of practicing for a man who's name you can't even remember right now.

You shake your head, the motion clearing the thoughts and the emotions that were swirling in your head, the ones that make you want to stand up and kiss him, kiss him until your lips are numb and you're left gasping for air.

"Joel?" you say his name softly.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Teach me."

Part 2 is already in the works I promise hehehe thank you for reading I hope u all enjoy!!

[m-ayo-o]

can't come!

nsfw; reader can't come, guess who helps her! (aged up 21+) <3

You've had trouble with this all of your adult life.

And right now it's getting more than a little frustrating.

You're pent up. Needy.

Unable to come.

Through no amount of touching, fingering, licking or fucking can you achieve an orgasm.

You feel pleasure, sure. It's amazing.

But your girlfriends so often remind you that this kind of pleasure is different.

"It's not the same, trust me.."

"You'd know if you had an orgasm"

"Maybe you should try a vibrator?"

And with all of their help and advice in the world- hell, one particularly close friend even offered to.. you know.. do it for you- you still can't come.

Maybe it's just not possible???

But your current boyfriend seems to have a plan in mind.

You know what he can do to you, with his hands and mouth.. and the way he fucks is just gentle and rough enough to make you whimper and bite into his shoulder.

But still no O.

So one day he sits you down and explains something to you.

About his 'power'.

Sure, he's told you about it before. You know what the deal is. He's a fucking sorcerer with the most beautiful markings on his face and he can barely speak to you without being concerned he's going to hurt you.

I can do it.

If you want me to.

He types out on his phone screen and shows you.

"You can do.. what? Toge?"

Let me show you.

Lie down please.

He has been so cautious with you- a non sorcerer.

A cute, sexy non sorcerer, who he cares about a whole lot.

He didn't want to scare you off with the way his mouth works.

So he lays you down gently and gets you warmed up, kissing you, touching you, feeling between your legs and starting to dip his fingers under your panties.

He drags them down slowly and gives you that look, asking for permission to take this a little further. You nod and watch him smile, kissing your thighs and ending up with his lips grazing your clit.

Such a familiar place- he studies your body and spreads your lips with his tongue, eyeing you up and down to see your reactions.

Then he hears that short, sharp breath when his tongue connects.

It never gets old.

But now, this time will be different.

"mm--" he hums into you and you loosen up, spreading your legs a little wider.

He gets closer.

"mm mmhmm--" you can hear the excitement in his soft moans. And he gets so greedy, his grip on your thighs getting tighter, spreading you open a little wider.

More. More. More.

He needs more of your body, more of those sounds.

"mmhh-" fuck, he's going to lose his mind in a second.

But no. He's gotta focus.

Now he can feel your body reacting to every tap and dip of his tongue.

Your breathing is getting so shaky, your face is flushed and your legs feel so tense.

With any girl he's been with before, this would be his cue to push her over the edge. A few more taps of his tongue would do. Maybe he could slide his fingers through your pussy lips, dipping them in to give you something to grip around.

But no.

You're close.

But you're not there.

So he pulls his lips off you with a sloppy, wet, sucking sound.

He disconnects his tongue but replaces it with his fingers.

Soft pads grazing your entrance, enticing you to get even wetter.

He looks up at your pretty face, your eyes half lidded, full of lust and desire.

So much desire.

To...

"come"

The word falls from his lips so casually.

But the power behind it leaves you reeling.

"ah- ah- w-w-w.... wait- Toge- oh--"

Your body is overwhelmed by the trembling.

He holds onto your legs to stop the shivering and shaking, watching you enjoy your first orgasm.

He wants to tell you what a good girl you are.

How pretty you look right now.

He wants to ask how it feels, although he's pretty sure he understands from the way you're moaning, nearly screaming his name and grappling onto the sheets of your bed.

"Toge- Toge---" you pant out his name, breathing laboured. You're on your way down, but you can still feel the pleasure tingling through your body, especially focusing around the bundle of nerves it all came from.

And you're amazed.

How did he do this?

Why.... Why hasn't he done this before???

"Toge--" your breath is returning to you slowly, just enough oxygen getting back into your brain to form a sentence-

"Toge- that was.. that was ah- amazing--"

He watches you sigh and collapse into the bed.

Weary that you're a beginner to all this, he debates for a few seconds before opening his mouth again.

But fuck it, the demons won today.

"come"

He does it again.

And again.

Needless to say, your first experience with this new found pleasure is unforgettable.

And your boyfriend? You might just have to hang onto him, seeing as he's the only person who can make you come.

toge

[lovlidollie]

i would lovelovelove to hear more about crybaby!reader n rafe’s relationship. like how does he calm her down? music? kisses? food?

as for dollie, does he indulge in her girly lil actions sometimes? letting her put makeup on him/letting her put glitter on him, letting her paint his nails, baking w her?

love this so much nonnie, pls let me know if you meant something else !!! cw; ddlg themes for crybaby!reader ^_^

for crybaby, i think the easiest way to calm her down is through words + physical touch. rafe’s aim is to try and get her into subspace mainly so that she doesn’t have to deal with big girl feelings for a while. he knows her tells; she shrinks into herself, her eyes glaze over and aimlessly float around the place. she can’t stop her fingers from gravitating towards her puffy lips, imperceptible whines leaving her when she realises they’re not rafe’s.

he keeps his touch gentle, hands soft against her waist and jaw, and he makes sure to keep eye contact. “does m’girl wanna come out, hm? dad’s lil’ girl? y’know he’ll take care of you. doin’ sooo well f’him aren’t y’baby, yeahhh that’s right! attagirl, there she is.” if the situation allows it, he’s pulling her into his lap, hands under her armpits to pick her up just like a baby. he’d place kisses along her hairline, rubbing her back ever so carefully, like she’s this close to breaking. when her chin start to tremble and her eyes water, rafe coos out, “need ‘em? need daddy’s fingers? gotta tell him, baby, how’s he s’posed t’know otherwise, huh?” she’s nodding furiously, tears sloping down her heated cheeks. she’s trying to be good and patient, trying to wait for her dad to give her what she needs. “open up,” he soothes, thick thumb trailing itself over the flesh of her bottom lip, into the warmth of her mouth. she sinks into his lap, eyes rolling back and tongue wrapping around him immediately. crybaby whimpers, drool sliding down his hand like water. she doesn’t even notice how she’s humping his leg, rubbing so deliciously against rafe’s cock. “shhh— shh ‘s’okay, sweetheart, y’doin’ soooo good. dad’s got’ya.”

— putting her in timeout also works suspiciously well … but that’s smth for another day …

with dollie, i think he scowls n scoffs every time she brings up doing his makeup; he’s got a very toxic sense of masculinity (learned behaviour from ward me thinks). he’s absolutely sick of finding glitter in every single part of the house and he tries to calmly tell her to maybe “tone it down.” her crestfallen face and disappointed pout were enough for him to take back his words though, so now he just deals with top or kelce pointing out the random sparkles on his shirts. i don’t think he’d let her paint his nails outside of just like a manicure and clear top coat, BUT he will paint hers. mainly because wheezie made him do it a lot when she was growing up, so now he’s got abnormally good skills. he’d definitely be the type to seek out the little initial that dollie gets on her ring finger, and if it’s not there he’s forcing her to take a seat so he can put it there himself. another thing he does, is if he sees something that even remotely looks like a makeup product she’d be into, he’s purchasing it immediately. for example, a glittery eyeshadow palette with only shades of pink? the store’s lucky he didn’t buy them out completely.

he does bake with her !! they have little baking dates in their pajamas where they decide on what they wanna make, and then rafe does all the measuring whilst dollie does the mixing. they have some music playing in the background, sometimes a nostalgic movie, and dollie just rambles about her day n what she got up to :3 it’s just so soft and domesticated and UGH. other times dollie doesn’t let him do anything, especially if he’s just come back from work. she makes rafe sit at the island and watch as she twirls around the kitchen creating something from nothing, just for him.

— if she’s been begging for months on end about doing his makeup, rafe would maybe, maybe indulge her on her birthday. just on the one demand that no glitter is involved whatsoever.

[gingerteafairy]

𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙞𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙞𝙠𝙞𝙝𝙤𝙬 (𝙥𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙢𝙖𝙭𝙞𝙢𝙤𝙛𝙛 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)

Peter had to thank wikiHow creator for finally getting a girlfriend.

tags n warnings: smut, idiots in love, kinda fluff, virgin!peter, cockwarming, piv, cursing, mdni, porn w little plot. word count: 3.1k

masterlist

You were sprawled out on the carpet next to Peter, your heads almost touching as you watched yet another one of his dumb Facebook videos. Feet nudging each other, the usual deal with your weird best friend. "Check this out—dude literally fires a gun with just his toes."

"Peter, I’m over this!" you groan, suddenly sitting up and breaking the rhythm.

Peter shoots you a confused, slightly annoyed glance before sitting up too, his eyebrows knitting together. "Over what? We’re just chillin’ on our phones." He tosses his phone down like it betrayed him.

"Exactly! We’re supposed to be hanging out, and instead, we’re glued to our screens. It’s so lame!" you exclaim, throwing your hands up for emphasis before crossing your legs on the floor.

"Oh, my bad," he smirks, leaning back on his hands. "What’s next? Tea party with stuffed animals?"

"Ha-ha, you’re hilarious," you deadpan, grabbing your phone and unlocking it. "No, but we’re doing something—anything but this."

"Wait a sec. You’re the one yelling about phones, and now you’re all up in yours again?" He shakes his head, laughing, his knees bumping against yours as he leans forward.

"I’m looking for ideas, genius. Clearly, neither of us can think of something fun on our own," you fire back, scrolling until your face lights up. "Got it. This is perfect."

You spin your phone around, showing him the screen. He leans in, squinting suspiciously. "No way. 150 Questions to Ask Your Boyfriend? And it’s from freakin’ wikiHow?"

"It’s better than watching you scroll through those ancient Facebook memes. You’re, like, the only dude under 25 who still uses that app," you tease, tilting your head at him while scrolling through the list.

"Hey, Facebook is underrated. Some of the groups on there are gold, like—"

"'Looking for an Inmate to Date.' Don’t even start. I know about that one," you interrupt, breaking into laughter. "I’ll give you that—it’s iconic. Alright, here’s one for you: what color would you erase from the world, and why?"

Peter stretches out his legs and grins. "Ooo, deep question. Hmm... pink."

"Pink? What did pink ever do to you?" you ask, laughing as you shift closer to him, sitting on your knees now.

"I don’t know; it just bugs me. Especially that blinding hot pink. You know, the shade old ladies wear to the grocery store like it’s a fashion statement," he says, gesturing dramatically with his hands.

You snort, nudging his shoulder. "Alright, your turn—ask me one."

"You’re not gonna answer the color thing?" He raises an eyebrow, his mouth quirking up in challenge.

"Nope. Gotta keep the mystery alive," you reply, leaning back on your palms.

"Fine," he smirks, scrolling dramatically through the questions. "Alright, here’s one: pick three items from the store to guarantee the cashier gives you weird looks." Peter’s grin widens as he leans toward you. "And don’t even think about copping out with something boring."

“Lub, car wax, and cat litter," you laugh as you count them off on your fingers. “It's always the sex ones.”

"I’ve got a better one: Condoms, yogurt, and pliers," Peter chimes in with a smug grin.

Your jaw drops in exaggerated shock, and you lightly smack his shoulder. "You’re disgusting!" you exclaim, laughing so hard you almost lose your balance. “That's criminal.”

He leans back with a smirk as you scroll for another question. “I'm just more creative than you.”

"Alright, here’s a good one," you announce, eyes twinkling. "What’s your favorite thing about me?"

Peter tilts his head, resting his chin in his hands as he looks you over, scanning your face and, embarrassingly, your whole body. The intensity of his gaze makes your cheeks heat up. It wasn’t exactly a secret that you had a crush on Peter Maximoff. The problem was he was dumb enough to miss that this question was a trap—a way to find out if he might feel the same. He felt. Bad. And just like him, you were stupid enough to not notice.

"You’re funny," he says plainly, snapping you out of your thoughts.

The simplicity of his answer makes your smile falter for a split second, and he notices immediately. Concern flashes in his eyes as he leans closer.

"That’s it?" you shot, eyebrows furrowing as you lean forward, trying to catch his gaze.

Peter’s cheeks turn pink—faster than anything else about him, really—and he shifts awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. "Having a good sense of humor is important," he adds quickly, smiling nervously. "And...you’re cute. That’s cool too."

The reassurance makes your heart do a weird little flip, though you try to keep your face neutral. "Your turn," he spat, clearly eager to move the spotlight off himself.

"You’re smart," you reply confidently, straightening your posture as if declaring a fact. "You’re handsome, funny, and it’s like you can read my mind because you always know what makes me laugh. You’re always on time—because, well, you’re fast. You’re interesting in literally everything you do, and—"

You stop mid-sentence, realizing how much you were rambling.

"Wow, didn’t know I was all that," Peter teases, grinning at you like the cat that got the cream. Then, of course, because he’s Peter, he leans in to push your buttons further. "You’re gorgeous. You smell amazing. You’re funny. Super smart. And you’ve got killer taste in music."

Your cheeks practically catch fire, and you manage to stammer, "Thanks...Peter..."

But before you can regain your composure, he snatches your phone and grins. Next question. Same topic. Let’s keep this going.”

"If you could ask me anything, what would it be?" Peter’s voice carried that teasing edge you’d come to know too well, and you immediately felt your throat tighten.

You swallowed hard, a nervous laugh bubbling up as you looked away, pretending to focus on the texture of the carpet. Your mind was racing with unspoken questions—Do you like me as much as I like you? Do you ever think about kissing me? Have you ever fantasized about me?—but instead, you chickened out and asked, "What song reminds you of me?"

He chuckled, a little too casually, like it was the silliest question ever. You pouted instinctively, your lips forming an adorable little curve that he secretly loved.

"Sorry," he said, waving a hand as if to dismiss his laugh. "Uh... I don’t know, maybe something old, like Can’t Take My Eyes Off You or something. This is a tough one—requires actual brainpower."

"Unbelievable," you said, shaking your head with a soft laugh. "It’s not that hard."

Peter smirked, shifting closer to you, his shoulder lightly bumping yours. He loved how easily flustered you got, and you could feel his gaze lingering on you again, just enough to make your cheeks burn.

"Okay, if I could ask you anything," he started, leaning in slightly, "it’d be...what’s your favorite memory of us?"

"Uh...I think it’s that time I was craving chocolate, and you brought me some in, like, two seconds," you said, smiling softly. "Then you told me about your powers, and you were so worried I’d freak out or something. But I just laughed."

Peter laughed too, relaxing his posture as he propped himself up on one elbow. "Man, I really thought you’d throw a frying pan at me or something dramatic like that."

"Why would I do that?" you giggled, feeling lighter just from the sound of his laugh.

"Because it’d be funny," he shot back, grinning. Then, shifting uncomfortably on the floor, he groaned. "Alright, this carpet’s killing me. Let’s move to the bed—it’s comfier."

You nodded, trying not to overthink the casual suggestion, and followed him as you both climbed onto the soft mattress. He sprawled out on his side, scrolling through more questions on your phone while you perched next to him, your legs tucked underneath you.

"If you were a sandwich, what would you be?" you asked, breaking the silence with a grin.

"Easy. Bacon cheeseburger. 100%," he said confidently, barely missing a beat as he handed your phone back and stole a glance at you out of the corner of his eye.

You noticed, of course—you always did. Instead of calling him out, you just smiled to yourself, feeling your heart race every time your gazes met. The room was filled with a quiet, happy tension, both of you a little shy but still enjoying the moment.

Even when he turned back to the phone, scrolling for another question, Peter couldn’t help but smirk to himself. He loved how easy it was to make you blush, and the fact that you didn’t seem to mind? That made it all the better. “What's your kinks?”

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stared at him, blinking as if your brain had short-circuited. And suddenly you remembered Peter's dirty mind. What could be worse than saying your biggest kink was your best friend fingerfucking you at light speed?

“Uhm… I don't know…the usual. Missionary or doggy. Dunno.” you shrugged, obviously. “What about you?”

“Alphabetically or chronologically?” he shot and you rolled your eyes, nudging him. But the way you looked up at him, so curious with those eyes he could steal the world for you to look at him again this way gave courage for him. “Cockwarming…I guess…”

“Have you ever tried it?” you questioned, biting your lip to calm your heartbeats. It was the first time you really made a move onto Peter's oblivious being.

“Not actually.” He giggled, scratching his head. “I'm virgin. Yes. I said it. Virgin as olive oil. Boom society. Peter Maximoff is a virgin as hell.”

“That's ironic, virginity is something pure in our culture.” You joked, untucking your legs as you pressed your thighs together. “Would you…you know… like to try?”

“Pfft, obvious.” He giggled, rolling his eyes. “But who will I make it? I don't picture anyone interested in me.”

“How can you be so fucking dumb?” You spat and shut instantly by realizing you said it out loud. Talking alone wasn't a good thing.

“Why am I dumb? You are dumb for calling me dumb, you idiot.” He scoffed, offended. And yeah. Peter was dumb enough to not realize your intentions.

“You're dumb because I'm fucking offering me to cockwarm you, asshole.” You exploded in a low voice, eyeing him through your lashes, focusing on Peters trying to search the right words.

“Really?” He stammered, shifting his weight on the mattress.

“Y-Yeah…” you stuttered, three tones redder than before, nodding.

“Uhm…Okay…Yeah…Great…” He looked down, scratching his neck just to get his eyes back on you, completely shy about the situation. “You…You wanna do it now?”

You nodded, timid enough that nothing understandable came out of your mouth. Peter swallowed and looked at you several times before coming with the decision of kissing you. Yeah. That would be great. He thought.

“What are you doing?” You ask, frowning weirdly when his face comes closer to yours.

He groaned, downing his head, lifting just as fast. “I thought that kissing you would be a great start, you dumb.”

You snorted, taking a deep breath. Okay, you were dumb on that. “Fine. Let 's… do it.” you mumbled, turning your face in that weird position where your shoulders touched to close the gap between you, brushing your lips on his and wow, Peter had surprisingly soft lips way better than any of your dirty imaginations before bed.

Fast as the speed of light, Peter hummed in your mouth feeling his cock already rock hard on his pants. He broke the kiss, opening his eyes slowly to focus on yours. “it…it was good. You're a good kisser.”

“Yeah.” You muttered, glancing at his lips mid-parted. “You unzip your pants or…you want me to do it?”

“Whatever's good for you. I…can do it.” He shrugged, freezing before shaking his head and unzipping and down his pants in one second, his cock standing deliciously on his belly.

Your mouth instantly watered at the sight, obligating you to swallow to get rid of the excess saliva. “Uhm… I'll… get undressed.” You announced, gazing his tip wet in pre-cum.

“Great.” he muttered, waiting for you, deep breathing when you lifted your hip to get rid of your shorts, crawling to toss it on the floor. And when you did, fuck, Peter had to concentrate on anything for not cumming by seeing your covered ass up and wet sweet patch on your panties. Pink. The color he hated. Whatever, he loved pink now. Pink was definitely his favorite color. He would buy anything pink from the supermarket.

You came back to your place, eyeing his tip, wetter than a few seconds ago. Shit, you were going crazy. “Can I…”

“Sure.” He promptly agreed, opening his legs a little wide so you could fit on his lap.

You nodded and took off your panties, crawling again to sit on his lap, carefully wrapping your hand on his length while you placed it on your entrance. “I'll…I'll do it now, okay?” You purred, hating yourself for sounding so desperate. Fuck, his veiny cock was facing your pussy. You. Peter. Cockwarming. This wasn't your imagination.

“Okay.” He grunted, breathing heavily. You slowly inserted his tip, sliding down with your eyes on the back of your head when you both moaned together. Nothing could describe how good Peter's cock felt on your pussy. Bad news. You got a new addition.

You moaned needy when his dick was fully inside you, not helping your hips to wiggle slowly, enjoying the sensation. “Uhm…Peter.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. It's wet. Oh my god it's so wet.” He estates, throwing his head back. You were warm, tight, so fucking wet for him he thought he was in a pool. “I love your pussy.”

You hummed, swaying your hip back and forth to increase the friction. He grabbed your hip, helping you with the movement. “Yeah, Peter. Just like this. Hmmm, this is fucking good. You feel so fucking good on me.” You mewl, giving him a piece of heaven when you made a dirty round movement on his cock, clenching your walls when he pulsate on you.

Peter shutted his eyes, opening to gaze at your intimates together, especially on his dick juiced by your juices, lewd and noisy delicious sounds from it echoing in the room. “Can…can I touch you?”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded, absorbed in the pleasure. “Please… Please touch me, Peter…Uhmmmm...”

Peter licked his lips, pushing your body to crash on his chest, where he wasted no time to kiss you roughly while his fingers snaked to your cunt, at first, touching slowly, but he had a better idea. He buzzed his fingers, feeling proud when he felt you trembling on him, moving your legs desperately and moaning lustfully on him, dropping your head on his shoulder.

“m gonna cum. Peter, shut, cumming.” you whined, arching your back by melting on his cock, screaming his name on your orgasm, fire pooling on your lower belly.

“Fuck. Yeah…you're so hot. This…oh my god.” He interrupted, moaning when your pussy just clenched him so right that he twisted the positions with your ass up, fucking you miserably fast and good with your face on his fluffy pillow.

“Peter!” You screamed muffled, fisting your nail on the duvet, biting it as it was enough to make that overstimulation less crazy. Not effective, you just had the feeling of cumming again when his cock kissed your cervix multiple times as he fucked himself deep on your cunt, stuffing it with his fat cock.

“Your…pussy…it's so fucking good. God, i…had…uhmm…” he moaned, rocking his hips so fast that it could be confused by the same buzz his fingers did on your clit. “You're so hot, you're so beautiful…uhmm…say my name, baby. Please…”

“Peter, fuck…more…” you sob. Fucking Peter was a drug, he was shamelessly good on that, having you cumming again with your vision fading black.

He breathed, slowing his sway on a magnetic decrescendo, burying his head on your neck as he forked his fingers on your hair. “Didn't know cockwarming was…this…fucking good.”

You nodded, mind blank as your mouth opened synchronized to his balls deep on you, the same swing on your tits, where he cared to cup them on one hand while the other continued to buzz. All your mind could think was Peter's veins and tip stuffing you perfectly. “Peter…your cock is so…fucking good. Why…why didn't you do it later?”

“Fuck, dunno.” he gasped, forcing a fast pace again, harder then before, humming when his thrust touched your beloved place that made you squeak and grin under him. “Is…is it here?”

“Yes! Yes,yes, fuck yes.” You babbled, soaking his bed on drool and melting juices of your abused cunt who seemed never to give up on taking him well.

“Shit, im gonna cum.” He moaned, taking his cock out, pumping him and spreading his seed on your back, thick wires of cum on your skin and it seemed like it wasn't enough, it just came and came. Til he finished, crashing on the mattress facing the ceiling.

You groaned, plopping your elbows on the bed to sit up, shaking your sweaty hair off your face to look at Peter. You grinned, giggling stupidly while he chuckled gazing at you. Soon, the giggles turned into laughter as you fell on his body, relaxing on a fulfilling peace.

“D’you even realize that we used wikiHow to fuck?” You chortled, pursuing his lips.

“Yeah. Like how to dig your best friend. Wikihow knows the best.” he snorted, stroking your hair, his eyes demanding a different shine that told secretly all his feelings for you. It wasn't enough, though. Peter had to say. “Do you know I have a thing for you, right?”

“Yeah, how big is this thing?” You ask, resting your chin on your palm to glance at him, a gesture that made him squeeze your exposed breast.

“Big as your booba.” He teased, sticking his tongue. “I'm kidding. It 's like…really big. I kinda love you.”

“You do?” you teased back, giggling when he shifted positions to peck your lips. Your heart exploded when he deepened carefully, wrapping his arms on your waist.

“Yes, I do.” He remarked, kissing the tip of your nose. “Do you love me or you just wanted to use my cock for your own selfish purpose?”

You frowned, pretending to think. “Both.”

“You little…” he laughed, running his hands on your sides to briefly tickle you as a light punishment. Kissing as a sorry. “But you can use me for that. I won't complain.”

“I will.” You reassured, pushing him by the back of his neck to another kiss. “And I love you.”

[illusioninfnty]

desperation ↠ day 31 ; sex pollen

↠ buggy the clown x reader

fandom: one piece word count: 1.6k warnings: nsfw 18+, dubcon, semi-public sex, fuck or die-ish, fingering, banter, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

You know Buggy’s going to leave as soon as he gets his body back.

You’re not going to let that happen. When he finally reattaches himself, and runs off with a see ya!, you run after him.

“Stop!” you call out to him. “You need to stay and fight. We saved your ass, didn’t we?”

He turns around and sighs dramatically seeing you. “You again? Seriously sweetcheeks, would ya let me leave?”

You cross your arms, and give him the most intimidating glare you can muster. You only recently joined the crew, and you wanted to prove that you were tough enough to fight with the rest of them. Making sure that Buggy helped you guys fight Arlong and his fishmen while Luffy went to go save Nami was a way to prove yourself to them.

“I can’t let you—” you're interrupted by a fishman coming out from behind Buggy and approaching you. You whip out a dagger to prepare for his attack, but before you can get a move in he sprays some sort of powdery mist in your face, completely taking over your vision.

“Good luck trying to fight me now when you gotta deal with that,” he snickers as he runs away.

You cough and bend over, hands on your knees, as the mist lands in your nostrils and mouth. You try to swat it away in the air surrounding you, but it feels as though the mist has already gotten inside of you, and there’s no way to escape it now.

“Well, anyways, I’m going to go then,” Buggy starts, slowly backing away as he gets ready to escape.

You’re too weak to try and distracted now to try and stop him, but then your body starts to feel different. Your internal temperature skyrockets, causing beads of sweat to start dripping down your face despite the fairly average temperature outside. You can feel your body not getting hot because of that, but also the sudden arousal that threatens your core. 

Your legs begin to tremble as your body aches with need, a deep feeling in your gut that you never felt before. It’s like a hunger that needs to be sated immediately, as though it were a life or death situation. It has you wanting to just stick your fingers inside of your pussy and just fuck yourself silly until you can rid yourself of this itch you can’t seem to scratch.

“W-wait!” You call out to him. You must sound extremely desperate, because Buggy actually stops and turns towards you instead of ignoring your pleas.

You swallow hard and continue. “I need…help.” Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth as you grit out your words, embarrassed by just how much you want the stupid clown to fuck you. You can already feel how wet you are through your bottoms, and as the seconds tick by it feels as though your arousal is going to start spilling out onto the floor. “Need you to fuck me. Please.”

You’re too ashamed of your desperation to look Buggy in the face to see his reaction to your words. You only know of his answer when you fall to your knees, legs too weak to hold yourself up, and you feel his palm on your back.

“Well when you look like that, how can I say no?” Sarcasm drips in his voice, and you can tell he’s not really taking you seriously.

“I’m serious!” You try to sound as adamant as you can given how weak you feel at the moment.

“So am—” You interrupt him, finally having enough, by grabbing him by the back of his neck and smashing your lips against his own in a kiss.

His own hands move to cup your face, and you open your mouth up to let his tongue in. As the kiss becomes sloppy, you start to rid yourself of your clothes, needing your body to cool down.

He pulls away as he sees you baring yourself to him, eyes widening and a smirk overtaking his face. “Woah, didn’t realize you wanted to fuck me so badly. I would’ve happily done it if you were nice and asked.”

You don’t have it in you to protest him now. Instead you move your fingers inside of you, your juices gushing out of you despite the lack of attention your pussy had been receiving.

“The shit he sprayed me with,” you start. You lay yourself on the ground, arching your back as you piston your fingers in and out of you, praying that you find your release soon.

Buggy hums in thought. “I should be thanking him, then. Got myself a nice view.”

“You can do that after you fuck me.” The next thing you know his cock is inside of you, and he’s thrusting with the vigor of a man starved. You moan and arch yourself into him, your hands scrambling as they claw at his back. You wrap your legs around him, wanting to keep him close as his thick cock ruts into you.

You don’t think sex had ever felt this good before. Your juices are squirting out of you, proving to be a great replacement for lube, and your walls clench down hard on Buggy’s cock, like a vice. He groans above you as you tighten your grip around him, walls fluttering as they refuse to let him leave you.

The pleasure is too much for you to bear, and you can hardly talk. Your eyes roll back into your head and your tongue lolls out of your mouth, drool escaping the corners of your lips.

All that comes out of your mouth and pathetic whimpers and breaths of yes, yes, yes as Buggy fucks you with reckless abandon.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grits out as his muscles bulge from holding you down with so much force. His hips collide with your own, the sounds of your skin slapping loud enough to draw the attention of anyone who would’ve been in the vicinity of the two of you. “Shoulda fucked you when I first saw you. Lookin’ all cute in slutty in your little pirate getup.”

You know you should feel insulted by the way he technically insinuated you were “playing” pirate, but the horny, afflicted side of you only chooses to focus on the yearning in his voice of wanting to fuck you, and how his cock is hitting parts of you that make you see stars.

It comes to no surprise to you that your orgasm is already closely approaching within minutes of having Buggy’s cock fucking into you. Your nails dig into his skin, and your whines increase in pitch and speed.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” Buggy groans as you clench down even harder around his cock, as impossible as it may seem, and your orgasm crashes into you like a wave. You can only gasp out curses as you squirt all over his cock, your juices rushing out of you wildly.

Your release soaks yourself and him, both inside and out. Buggy’s orgasm isn’t too far behind as his hips begin to stutter in their rhythm and soon he’s moaning lowly in your ear and filling you to the brim.

A sudden rush of calmness washes over you as Buggy’s cum fills you up. It’s like all of the horniness and desperation for sex escapes your body as soon as it comes into contact with his cum. Your body temperature returns to normal, and the shaking of your body is solely in response to your orgasm instead of the deep aching within your core that seemed as though it could never be satiated.

You hold onto him for a couple of moments longer, catching your breath and coming down from your high as Buggy’s arms also remain wrapped around you and his cock stays nestled inside your entrance.

It’s then that you hear your name being called out in the distance. It seems as though while you were affected by the mist powder, your crew had completed all they set out to do.

Not wanting them to see you in the precarious situation you’re in, covered in juices and Buggy on top of you, still inside your entrance, you scramble away from him. Stumbling as you put your pants back on, ignoring the way his cum pools out of you, you give him a kick to his side.

“Ow!” He whines, rubbing the area you made contact with.

“Get out of here!” you whisper to him, despite no one being around you for probably miles out. “If they see us like this I’m totally screwed!”

He rolls his eyes, but still goes to stand up and get dressed again. “Oh, what? Embarrassed to be seen with me? Real original.” 

Your eyes narrow and you cross your arms. “I am trying to make a good impression with my crew, and this—” your hands gesture to yourself and Buggy—“is not going to help that.”

Buggy holds his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. But you owe me one.” He begrudgingly begins to leave by walking backwards, his eyes on yours the entire time. “Next time we meet, I'll have you help me out with something.” He wiggles his eyebrows in a way that makes you want to cringe, yet you can’t find it in yourself to dismiss him completely.

You shoo him away, ignoring the way heat rises to your cheeks. “Maybe. Now scram.”

You see your crew approach just as Buggy is out of sight. Thinking about your encounter with him more, technically, your mission was a success. You’d call it a win in your books.

[hoshifighting]

Hello! I love your work 🥹 I hope you are well

Just wanna ask your thoughts on how the seventeen members would react to see you driving speed / you being fast on connected apps like ‘Find My’ heheheeheh

Thank you ❤️

a/n: thank u sweetie, i loved it!! im doing well!! <33 i hope i understood well.. like a gearhead girlfriend?... made w/ luv ❤️

WARNINGS: mentions of breakig the speed limit

seungcheol: “yo yo yo, slow the fuck down, we ain’t tryna die today!!” he’s literally shouting through the app, and you could almost see him gripping the imaginary 'oh shit' handle in the backseat. he loves you, but he’s lowkey shitting bricks rn, “bruh, this ain't fast & furious... i swear if we crash, it’s on you.”

jeonghan: sigh “baby, why you gotta be like this?” he’s too cool to actually panic, but you can feel him judging the fuck outta you. he’ll make you feel like the most irresponsible person alive while also making it clear he’s kinda impressed. “next time, let me drive so we don’t both end up with speeding tickets… but like… you kinda look hot doing it though, not gonna lie.” he’s smirking on the other side of the screen.

joshua: “ok but like… are we trying to break a record or what?” he’s nervous but trying to stay calm, but you can tell he’s clutching his pearls behind that smooth tone. “maybe, uh, we could slow down just a tiny bit? just a suggestion...” definitely trying not to freak out completely, but he’s one bad swerve from straight-up praying.

jun’s all for it, honestly. he’s got his phone up to show the speedometer on his end, clearly thriving. “you wanna hit 120? bet, i’m down, let’s fucking go!” jun’s just living it, probably snapping selfies like it’s no big deal while the car’s shaking at 90 mph.

hoshi: “wait—WAIT! y/n, no no NO, what the hell?? slow down before i shit my pants.” he close his eyes, dramatic as fuck, genuinely convinced y’all are about to fly off the highway. nearly crying as he clutches his phone. “i got shit to do tomorrow!! i can’t die today, not like this!”

wonwoo’s just... chillin’. he doesn’t really say much at first. just sends a simple, “you good?” text. he’s the only one calm in this whole situation. when you don’t respond right away, he hits you with, “bet you won’t keep up with the guy in the ferrari tho...” and you’re like, oh shit. he’s egging you on. he's vibing with the chaos, but lowkey wants to see how far you'll take it.

woozi: “y/n, you better chill the fuck out.” straight-up scolding you. no fluff, just pure frustration. jihoon’s too rational for this speed demon shit, and he’s already calculating how much the damn fine’s gonna be if you get caught. “if you crash, you better hope i’m not in the car, ‘cause i ain’t helping your ass.” classic jihoon—pissed, but still kinda impressed at your audacity.

seokmin: “YO, SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!” pure panic in his voice,like he’s watching a horror movie. “do you wanna give me a heart attack? holy shit!!” he’s basically pleading with you at this point, full-on hands shaking, worried sick like a damn mother hen. “i’m way too pretty to die like this, please, for the love of god, just slow down.”

mingyu: WELL THIS MAN HAVE LICENSE FOR IT, no fear at all. “you drive like a fucking beast, lemme hop in the car next time.” he’s fully living for the thrill, no reservations whatsoever. he’s gassing you up like no one would. adrenaline junkie.

minghao’s already over it. deadpan as fuck. “why you gotta stress me like this? i’m way too zen for this shit.”

seungkwan: “OKAY STOP! STOP! i didn’t sign up for this kinda trauma. you tryna die young, huh?!” yelling in the app for you to pull over before he passes out from sheer anxiety. “i’m never getting in a car with you ever again, swear on my life.”

vernon: “i mean, if we crash, we crash. kinda sick though, right?” no panic, no complaints, just lowkey impressed. “but like… how fast can you actually go?”

chan: “y/n, this isn’t a fucking video game!” poor baby is stressed out, clenching his fists like his life’s on the line. “i can’t do this. my heart can’t handle this. you tryna give me a heart attack?!” genuinely scared shitless. “you really gotta slow down before i fucking pass out in the toilet bro”

[pedge-page]

does tommy ever feel the wrath of joel’s pregnant wife or does she reserve that specifically for joel? I feel like tommy would get on her nerves a little bit 😂

I was waiting for someone to ask this! Tbh I think preggo wife saves her wrath for Joel simply because shes comfortable with him and can relax and let her guard down. With Tommy alone....

Tommy Dealing with Preggo Wife

Warnings: just language and Joel and Wife being insecure in their own (slightly toxic) ways

- - - -

You were super pregnant at this point. A couple weeks away from making Joel a doting husband to a doting father, and he was probably more on edge than you were. Your anxious little poor husband Joel, freaking out that he needed to take a weekend trip away, and the only person he can rely to watch over you--

"I don't need to be fucking baby sat--!"

-- his sweet, helpless, innocent little pregnant wife, is unfortunately, Tommy.

"Ok listen very carefully," Joel starts, now having Tommy's full attention like he's about to ask him to do his first heart transplant. "She doesn't go anywhere unless you decide. She eats what you put in front of her, and you don't take her shit. She's gonna be bitchy and whiny and crying. She needs to rest. Rub her shoulder, put her feet up, whatever. But you gotta tough through and just make sure she understands that you're in charge. And what you say, goes. Got it?"

He knows Joel is relying on him to take care of his most precious belonging...who also is the devil. "Ok...ok. I mean it's like a... like watching a toddler, right?" Tommy asks, unsure about the whole thing.

"Yeah... a pregnant one that weighs more than ya and swears and probably will slap you a lot."

Joel smacks Tommy's shoulder lovingly with an encouraging smile.

Tommy feels even more hesitant. but he knows that he just needs to channel his inner Joel this weekend: stern, unmoving, and commanding, and he'll do just fine navigating you.

Joel hugs you real tight and kisses your forehead, inhaling your hair deeply as if to etch it into his brain. "I love you, baby, I'm gonna miss you so--"

"Later fucker." you pat his bum and wave him off as you waddle away in his large T shirt towards the freezer drawer, pulling out a Ben and Jerry's fudge pint with wet lips and a grin.

Tommy shrugs and helps Joel out to the truck with his bag. he waves goodbye as his brother backs out the driveway, shouting "YOU'RE IN CHARGE!"

I'm in charge, I'm in charge, he chants to himself, taking a deep breath before entering your house again.

"Alright!" he claps his hands together awkwardly but with a tone leadership. "We are going to stay in bed today,"

"Mall," you grump though a big scoop of ice cream.

"W-what?"

"M'goin ta mall. Yur takin mee," you nod towards him casually, gulping another spoon.

"uhh-h." Tommy looks around anxiously. Was this part of the test? He should put his foot down, yeah, Joel said you go no where unless Tommy explicitly said so. "N-no."

you swallow. "'Scuse me?"

"N-no? I mean... no! I said, we are putting you in bed, and what i say, go--"

"Thomas Miller," you say, and an eerie sense of fear swallows Tommy, sending shivers all over his body. Despite the 90 degree forecast, its like someone just tossed his insides into a freezer, and you were locking him in.

"Y-yes...maam," he whispers, feeling small.

"We can either do this... the hard way," you tilt your head with a sinister gaze towards him, as if referencing that bit of "Joel" he's trying to channel inside. "Or, we can do this... my way." The way you smile at the end is somehow even more threatening than the chilled tone you're having with him.

It was like when he and Joel broke his grandma's vase, and rather than yelling at them, she had the exact same terrifyingly threatening voice, and it made Tommy sleep with one eye open for a week.

"What will it be, Thomas."

He remembers to breathe shakily through his nose, licking his parched lower lip.

He doesn't want to be known as the guy who got beat up by his pregnant sister in law.

-

"Do you want a pretzel?" you ask kindly.

"Ah... no--no that's okay--"

"I'm getting you one, honey, just say Thank you."

"Okay. T-thank you."

Tommy bites into the cinnamon sugar one with the extra glaze you had ordered, and he had never felt such sweet heaven.

"Joel used to yell at me for my sweet tooth," he admits as the two of you stuff your faces and waltz slowly down the mall halls.

"Me too!" you bump his shoulder heartily.

Tommy lets out a relaxed sigh. From the moment he agreed to do whatever it was you wanted, the weekend had been fantastic. Turns out, you're not only super fun to blast kareoke to the worst songs in the car, but also all full of warmth, laughter, and even more suprisingly, extremely generous at offering to spoil him rotten like a mother with her favorite child.

"What can I make you for dinner?"

"Wha--no I'm supposed to cook for you--"

"Tommy stop please. I want to make you something. You have to be stuck with me all day walking like a slow penguin. I want to do something for you. You deserve it. "

You hadn't noticed Tommy pausing along your walk, watching you in awe as you waddled about, gently caressing your tummy absentmindedly as you window shopped.

This was the demon that Joel complained about every hour of the day???

And even more concerning was: how did someone like JOEL manage to score a girl like YOU???

You were so peaceful, generous, kind, loving, all smiles and willing to take care of him.

Was he doing everything right or everything wrong?

The two of you return home, with Tommy hauling more gifts that you had bought him. He really wasn't able to protest, with you somehow disappearing from sight conveniently, to his horror that he somehow lost you like a puppy in the park, and then finding you suddenly swiping your card at a register.

He should feel bad, truly, but you were just in such a good mood, he didn't want to seem ungrateful. And he also.... really liked all of it.

"Oh these are so fuckin nice!" He cheers, pulling out the new sneakers you had just bought in it's wrapping paper. "Mine are--"

"Old and ratty, yes I know that's why I bought them. Sick of your nasty shoes trailing my house--"

"S-sorry--"

"Bought you some fuzzy slippers too so you can switch out when you come in."

"Im not really a slippers guy..."

"You are now."

You ended up making a quick spaghetti, slapping him away every time he tried to hover in the kitchen. "I wanna stand! good exercise!" you nod with a smile.

And it seemed like you meant it. Despite babyzilla cooking and ready to burst out, you were light on your feet in the kitchen. Like a ballerina dancing and swaying, you hummed to a tune in your head as you tasted the sauce on the spatula. You were in the zone, in your world. and it was genuinely... beautiful. He understood it now, when people say pregnant women glow. the entire time, Joel always said you did, but he only ever saw how tired the pregnancy made the both of you.

Was... Joel the problem?

After a hearty dinner, Tommy washed up the dishes. You said your goodnights and headed to your master bedroom, tucked in, and lights off just as Tommy gathered his pillows down the hall in the guest bedroom.

He sighs, laying on his belly and inhaling the fresh linen before closing his eyes.

Not more than a few moments pass before he hears some sniffles down the hall. Then again, a cough and whine.

He sits up and heads down to your room, the door cracked and dark. he flips the light switch on to see you sitting upright in your bed, rubbing your eyes.

"You okay?" he asks softly.

"M'good!" you give him two thumbs up. "Night!"

He nods and flips the switch off again, turning away. he doesn't make it two steps before he hears your unmistakable crying.

He turns the lights back on to see you wiping fat tears from your cheeks, sobbing into your shirt--Joel's shirt.

"Hey...what's wrong? Are you okay? ya in pain? What can I--"

You pull your face up, lips trembling and all tear soaken. He sees your clutching one of Joel's jackets in your hands, wrapped tightly like you don't want it to leave you. A completely emotional mess as you huff and puff.

He puts the pieces together. "Ya miss Joel, don't you--"

"I MISS HIMMMMMM!!!!!!!!" you wail, erupting into a long cry into the air with slunked shoulders and larger tears strolling down from the creases of your closed eyes.

He tightens his lips awkwardly, not wanting to let out a chuckles. Turns out big scary pregnant "later fucker" wife really did love that dumbass. Its also probably the first time he sees bags under your eyes, like you were hiding your exhaustion. When Joel is around, you almost never looked tired. Just pouty and groutchy like a spoiled senior cat.

Maybe Joel wasnt the problem, but the solution. He knew how to take care of you, knew what you needed when you needed it, knew when to put his foot down, and even when hed watch you two bicker and bitch, joel knew exactly how to get you in bed wrapped around him like gumby. Every. Single. Night.

He rubs your arm soothingly.

"Why"-hiccup--"did he"--sniffle--"leave me!"

"He aint leave ya, just had some work."

"HE HATES ME!!!!!!!!!"

He shakes his head, knowing you're inconsolable. rather than trying to reason, he brings you to his shoulder so you can cry your heart out on him as he hugs you. "There there," he hums, swaying you two side to side.

like a crying toddler indeed.

"M'sorry," you whimper, rubbing your eyes with your balled fists. "Wakin' you up, me crying like this. I can't--I can't help it some times..." your voice waivers, face warm in embarrassment that you're burdening Tommy so much.

"Don't sweat it. You did a lot today. Can I get you anything to cheer you up?" he suggests, expecting a trip down to the freezer for a nice tub of Ben and Jerry's Ice Cr--

"Can you get the jar of pickles?"

That...is fine too.

He brings up the largest jar of dill pickles he's ever seen in his life, sets them in your lap. He pops open the sturdy lid for your eager fingers to pull a long dill out and slink it into your lips. the satisfying crunch echoes in the room as you munch.

You start crying again. "I Fucking HATE Pickles!" you groan angrily before taking another generous crunch with a confusingly delightful hum. "Like--I hate it, but they're good?"

He chuckles, taking a piece. He pauses, eying you fearfully as if he made a wrong move not asking your permissions to take one of your hated yet coveted pickles. You nod, and the two of you crunch down on the peculiar snack.

"It's probably from the baby..."

"Fuckin' weirdo." you pat the rounded hump of your tummy and swallow the rest of your slice. Though, the way you stroke along the skin so delicately with a little smirk, he knows you're already in love with your "fuckin weirdo" baby more than anyone could love anything in this world.

Tommy never really thought about the word "uncle" until this moment, and the first emotion he has to associate it with, is excitement.

"Mkay. I'm done now." You hold the jar out to him so he can close it. "Thank you, Tommy," you say sweetly with the gentlest, sleepiest smile. "I really appreciate it."

THIS IS THE ANGEL JOEL HAS THE NERVES TO COMPLAIN ABOUT????

He swears, if Joel comes back and calls him up later saying how insufferable you are, he may just have to size up and smack his big brother.

Tommy pats your head, tucks you in again and turns of the lights.

-

The next day you make Tommy take you to breakfast and get him as many pancakes and French toast he can stuff his face with. A spoiled little brother indeed, and as he swallows another lump of the best breakfast eggs he's ever had, he wonders how sweet life would have been with a big sister like you spoiling him every day instead of Joel making him do chores and shit.

Its not until Joel is meeting the two of you at a lunch spot that Tommy remembers exactly what Joel always groans about.

"Hi baby!" He grins, rushing to give you a big hug for the first time in two days.

And despite your crying for him last night, you only retort with "sup fucker" casually and near bored, as if you weren't sniffing his jacket and Wagging your imaginary tail in disguise.

Joel purses his lips sarcastically, knowing you mean well, and Tommy laughs. You two definitely understood each other way better than he thought.

"Im gonna wash my hands, you two get a table," Joel says, and disappears down the back entrance.

Your waitress greets you just as Tommy is helping you slide down into the booth, big baby belly and all.

"Just three waters, please,"

"And a pepsi! Lots of ice. Two pepsis actually. And bread. And maybe like uh milkshake to start off?--"

The waitress glances at Tommy with a raised brow, wondering if you're genuine or not. He shrugs and nods, noting "she's pretty far along if ya can tell."

"My older sister was the same way. I'll get that in. You two...sorry I shouldn't say it but you two make a cute couple--" she says kindly.

Unfortunately, its exactly at the same Joel returns and hears that last bit, directed towards you and Tommy.

She walks away just as you catch Joels bewildered expression, conveniently with Tommy's hand on your bump and another around your lower back (supporting you into the booth of course but JOEL doesn't see it that way with this new context).

You and Tommy open your mouths to dismiss the claim and misunderstanding, but ever defensive Joel just shoves Tommy aside, slides into your booth next to you and slams your hand into his lap, his bear paws enclosed around yours. Tommy quietly slides into the opposite end, met with Joels flaring nostrils and billowing steam coming out of them.

The younger Miller realizes that slapping some sense into Joel and "sizing him up" was a total pipe dream. He'd be lucky to live long enough to an uncle at this point.

You gotta defend your poor brother in law. "The waitress just saw--"

"Cute couple, huh," he seethe with gritted teeth his entire seething focus at Tommy rather than paying any mind to you.

"Joel stop, Tommy was REALLY great to me this weekend--"

"Oh I BET he was," he grunts, turning towards you with a scowl. "S'that why he got new shoes on?" Joel damn well knows Tommy didn't just pony up and buy new shit for himself this weekend, given he refuses to buy himself anything new for years past it's expiration.

Tommy knows he's never allowed to baby sit you alone again at this rate.

"She was crying last night saying how much she missed ya," Tommy blurts.

You kick his shin under the table, not wanting to let Joel know what a pathetic groveling mess--

"Wait really!?" he nuzzles closer to your, as if all the anger in his body dissipated at the notion his poor little wife was calling out for her hubby.

Tommy chuckles and nods. "We shared some pickles in bed, ain't that right?"

You slap your face just as Joel rears his once again flaring red face towards Tommy. "You did WHAT in WHERE????"

- - - -

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist

[judebelle]

trent being a clingy needy bf? xx

menace - t.a.a. x reader

a/n : i’m so fucked w finals season but it’s almost break for me 😇 just gotta make it thru this week 😞 also i made this a drabble SORRYYYY but i think this is better short and sweet!

cw : swearing, clingy trent obv, reader getting increasingly more annoyed throughout the course of the fic, sexual insinuation, fluff

pairing : trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

wc : 704

---

it started off as bearable, but god, as the day progressed, you couldn’t deal with him anymore.

the him being sir trent alexander arnold.

it had just so happened that you and trent had aligned a few days off at the same time. this was a rare occurrence since your busy schedules kept you swamped 25/8.

this was the first of many days off. you just needed to get some things done around the house, but trent had other plans.

you almost took up his many offers to just lay in bed all day, but you knew you would feel better if you got things done first.

of course, trent wasn’t making this easy on you.

“c’mere, beautiful,”

“please stay here, just for a few minutes.”

“so sleepy, just nap with me for an hour, please!”

you had to resist the urge to physically roll your eyes at his constant pestering. you had to put your foot down and stop him before you ended up giving in.

“no, trent! i have to finish some things up, i’ll be done soon.”

he was still cuddled up in the bed when you finally left the bedroom to head to the kitchen. you began putting away clean dishes and cleaning the counter tops. as you wiped it down, you felt two strong arms wrap around your waist.

“y/n come back to beddd~” trent whined while propping his head on your shoulder to get a better look at what you were doing that was so important. you could feel him kiss his teeth when he saw you cleaning.

“i said, wait. if you keep annoying. me, it’s just gonna take longer!” you groaned when he didn’t let go of your body. “trent, let go. i need to go get-“

“you look so sexy in these shorts, just come back to bed.” you felt his hands slide down to cup your ass.

you rolled your eyes, a smile forming on your cheeks. “you can’t seduce me into going back into bed!” you sing songed as you turned to face him. his arms had you trapped in between him and the counter. he still his droopy eyes and his hair was a little frizzy.

you swiftly ducked out of his grip from under his arm and headed to your office, turning on your computer to print a few things. you heard the soft shuffling of socks on the floor, and low and behold-

“can you just come back, pleaseee!”

“stop it! how old are you? just give me a few minutes.” you had started to whine like a two year old, his complaints giving you a headache.

you placed the papers down and pushed past him to go to the living room, cleaning up blankets and books laying around. you grabbed the watering can and started tending to your wilting plants. all of a sudden-

“ah- get off me! trent! let go, now!”

your feet were hovering over the floor thanks to your boyfriend who had had enough of waiting. he threw your body over his shoulder easily and walked towards the bedroom.

you kicked your legs around, trying to wriggle out of his grip. you slumped against him when your efforts to escape from his death trap went in vain.

“this isn’t funny, y’know?”

he chucked despite your comment. “i can’t wait any longer, sorry.”

a stubborn smile broke across your face before he threw you onto the bed. you bounced onto the fluffy mattress with a gasp. “trent!”

he giggled softly before throwing himself down on top of you. “oww, trent you’re not light!” you found yourself laughing as he kissed your neck.

“shhh, just wanna cuddle.” he reached over and pulled the duvet over the both of you, wrapping his arms around your waist. he eventually let you breathe by rolling onto his side a little bit. you finally gave into his touch with a sigh, throwing your leg over his hips.

you reached your arms around his neck and nuzzled your head into his chest, his scent all over his wrinkled shirt.

“god, you’re a menace, you know that?” you laughed into his embrace and he responded by hugging you tighter.

“you love it.”

[darlingdekarios]

hide and seek.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 5,555 content: Simon "Ghost" Riley x f!reader, reader is referred to as a codename "Freya" and related nickname from Ghost, smut [fingering - receiving, unprotected p in v, mentions of stomach bulge, creampie, oral - receiving], kink(s) [size, outdoors, slight degradation, praise, squirting, cum eating], not beta/proof read deal w/ it

during a training exercise, the lines between hunter and hunted become blurred, and the feelings that have been buried inside claw their way to the surface.

"You can't hide forever, Freya."

Eight hours and fourteen minutes into a training exercise with Taskforce 101, and the two men who remained were starting to question if the words rumbling through their ear piece were correct. Dropped in the mountains within a ten mile radius of one another, it was a game of hide and seek … each of you taking on both roles simultaneously as you tried to remain hidden while taking out your opponents.

It was an honor system - survival of the fittest. Price, of course, at a camp at the base of the mountain, sending a team out to retrieve those who were picked off. Now it had dwindled - only the three of you remained, and the comms channels had been particularly quiet as time ticked by, each of you convinced you'd prove yourself top of the food chain eventually.

But Ghost's voice had interrupted the quiet, your focus broken for a moment as you halted all of your movements, waiting for the forest to respond to his voice. When nothing close to you alerted you dropped your own voice lower to quip back at his taunting, adjusting your position where you currently crouched.

"Just have to outlive you, LT."

"And Gaz. Don't forget about Gaz."

A smile spread across your lips, backpack sliding off your shoulders and to the ground quietly in an effort to increase your movement radius. Your target was well within sight now, the figure hunched over a jet boil that was working to make him a hot meal without smoke.

"Oh, don't worry. I didn't forget about Gaz."

"Well, I'm still here, so you've still gotta worry about me finding you first," the named man finally responded, his voice echoed from the earpiece and from the figure in front of you, carried between the trees as he gave no effort to hide himself, thinking he was without company.

You were moving forward now, using trunks and bushes for cover, stalking toward prey that remained blissfully unaware that its downfall was close enough to see puffs of cold breath from them.

"Not for long."

From there, it was silence from you, any further conversation a threat to giving away your location the closer you drew to him. You could hear the uptick of worry in his voice immediately when he responded, his focus on dinner shattered as he stood again. There was no possibility of him fleeing now, not with hot equipment to turn off and put away. Instead, he'd have to wait for the inevitable.

"What's that mean?" he questioned, head searching around his perimeter desperately in hope to find you before you could reach him. When his question went unanswered the frustration in his voice increased, a subtle shake indicating he was aware of his mistakes. This game was over for him … now he only needed to wait. "Hey, what's that mean?"

"That doesn't sound good, Gaz."

You were trying to ignore the tone Ghost used now as he spoke … the subtle amusement lingering under his tone only spurring you along more. It was over for Gaz before he had a real chance to react.

"Freya, what does that … FUCK!"

His shout was muffled into your hand as you slid up behind him and covered his mouth, a victorious smirk covering your face. Reaching into the pocket of his jacket you activated a GPS tracker to signify his pickup location, moving around him to look him face-to-face. He gave you a nod of respect before you hurried back to the trees, replacing your equipment and setting off on your next target.

"That's Gaz out," Price's voice was smooth in the comms, ready to set the match into its final round. "Ghost, Freya, you're all that's left. Try not to play with your food too much."

"Hmm."

You wondered if Ghost had an advantage position now, if he was looking to the trees for evidence of Gaz's retrieval, perhaps hopeful for a tip toward your location. You were eager to ensure he'd receive none.

"No promises."

"Once the sun goes over the mountains, you're alone for the night. No comms. It becomes true survival. Understood?"

"Copy," the two of you spoke in unison and Price dropped out again, returning the two of you to your isolated setting. As you hiked forward you found an eagerness filling your stomach … butterflies fluttering around as the prospect of facing Simon in this setting as the victor for this game set in on you. He could hear the smile you wore on your face as you all but purred into the comms.

"See you soon, Ghost."

The confidence in your voice sent a shiver down his spine - something he found becoming a common occurrence whenever you were around. From behind his mask his lips curved into an amused smile, though his tone indicated no such thing when he spoke.

"We'll see about that."

"It'll get cold soon, Frey. Once the sun drops over those mountains …"

It had been just under two more hours since you'd taken Gaz out, and things had mostly been silent. Neither of you wanted to outright give away your locations by something as easily avoidable as not remaining silent, so for the most part you had, only responding to Price quickly when he provided time updates.

"If you're worried about a little cold you could always forfeit, Ghost."

The laugh that rumbled in him came through even lower through a microphone like the one you wore now, and while the sound still set all of your nerves ablaze, you wished you could hear it in person. It was a ridiculous offer - Simon Riley had never forfeited in his life and he wouldn't start now, even if it meant sleeping beneath a layer of snow tonight. It was something about him that pulled you in like a magnet, his proven results time and time again securing your unspoken feelings for him.

Feelings you now couldn't afford to focus on with bragging rights of this size at stake. You were well aware of the possibility that Ghost had an eye on you through a scope - he could already be tracking your every move. You were certain that, knowing him, he would be close - he wouldn't allow his last remaining enemy to stray too far.

You still hoped to use that to your advantage, opting to ignore the cockiness in his words.

"Not a chance."

It was only an hour later that the sun was no longer offering any amount of warmth, the last of its gold and orange hues diluted by the beginnings of the night sky.

"Price did say if we're out past sundown we're out for the night."

"You sound scared, Frey. Don't tell me you're afraid of the dark?"

"Not a chance."

Really, you weren't…not now, anyway with every inch of your body burning with the desire to win. You echoed his earlier words to initiate a playful banter the two of you ever really enjoyed alone, inviting him in to another game with the reminder that now, only the two of you remained on the line. Thankfully he took the bait, catching on quickly to what you silently offered.

"You should be…never know what's lurking about…hiding behind a tree, in the shadows."

To his own internal pleasure, the quiet laugh that he allowed to rumble through his chest was joined with your own, the soft sound sending a rush of warmth through his body. Though he'd never admitted aloud - maybe not even fully to himself mentally, in truth - he craved moments like this with you, where your laugh and your casual tone fell easily on his ears like the chirp of birds in the morning.

Instead, he enjoyed his time with you selfishly, the need he felt within him to enjoy more of you buried inside where it would never see the light.

"Could say the same to you, big guy. What's lurking in the shadows around you?"

There was something in your voice that made the hair on his neck stand, something to the tone that piqued his interest further. You were almost purring - he was starting to wonder if Price's request not to play with food was directed entirely at you now. As he focused on your tone, on his surroundings, on taking in the trees around him and desperately trying to ignore the new tightness in his pants, your eyes were on the finish line.

You had slipped free of your boots and socks again, suffering through the cold ground in an effort to quiet yourself further as you stalked your way to him slowly under the cover of darkness. When you could begin to make out details - the pockets on his jacket and pants, the glimmer of zippers as they caught the remaining light, every curve his silhouette offered…you stilled, enjoying the moment.

His breath was visible - heavier than usual. You couldn't help the rush of pride that filled you at even the slightest hint that you had his nerves alight. How many people could say that about Simon Riley? It was a feeling so fulfilling you were almost tempted to bask in it longer, to savor every microsecond it lasted.

But the promise of his reaction was far too enticing to stay hidden for too long, a fact you succumbed to as you silently took more steps toward him.

"Hey, Simon?"

"Hmm?"

"Boo."

Fortunately the ground was soft enough to aid in the jump you sprung into to wrap your legs around his waist from behind, your arms wrapping around his neck and giving the slightest squeeze to accentuate your point. He'd lost.

"Fuck."

"Concede."

When the order was not immediately fulfilled you squeezed ever so slightly harder, only enough to drive it home. This was a fair win. One you'd earned.

But he wasn't hesitating to find a way out…he'd taken an intentional moment to allow you time to bask in your glory - at least, that was better than admitting he just wanted to feel you closer for a moment longer…for as many moments as you'd allow. Regardless of his own wants and completely focused on what would make you happy (though he could already feel it radiating from you), he forced himself to not, a deep breath filling his lungs as you released him.

When you climbed down and he turned to face you, the grin that had spread across your face fell open. In preparation for the dark Simon had already removed his glasses, leaving his sparkling eyes bare for you to see, more of his face exposed now in his balaclava than you'd ever been treated to before.

(Though it was hardly enough. Your curiosity about what would greet you beneath the black fabric grew by the day…by the second now as you made eye contact like you'd never been able to before.)

In the depths of his eyes your own pride was matched, telling you enough about his thoughts on your win that the words could truly go unspoken. He studied you carefully, enjoying the curve to your lips as a coy smirk and how somehow still, despite the pride, a neediness flooded behind it all, something as primal and feral as the forest's inhabitants.

"How long have you been on me?"

"Right after I picked up Gaz, he was trailing you from the southeast."

The mask's fabric shifted confirming the light smile that played on his lips, his eyes burning into yours now. As intense as his gaze was (it always was, why should now be any exception?) you were lost it in, searching for a hint of what he was thinking…what he was feeling. He was an expert at this - at hiding, at interrogating, he could easily pick you apart and have the answers he wanted flowing from you with only a little more effort.

With you, however, it required no intimidation to coax what he wanted from you.

"You could've caught up before sundown, then," it was a simple statement, his eyes not leaving yours as he took a knee on his sleeping pack before you, digging in his bag for a small towel and a fresh pair of socks. He motioned for you to take a seat on the rock he'd set up camp next to, nodding in appreciation when you adhered. "Your pace is faster than that."

You hadn't known him very long - you weren't even technically part of the task force as it stood. It has been almost a year, however…nearly twelve months of knowing the man who now knelt before you, carefully wiping mud from your feet and handling you like you would shatter if he wasn't softer than a hummingbird's feather. You didn't know what to expect of physical contact from him…but this degree of gentleness was certainly not it until this moment.

You thanked him for his delicacy by ensuring your eyes never left his face, eager to meet his gaze again whenever his found you again.

"Could've, yeah," you confirmed when he started to slip the warm socks onto your feet, his attention now nearly fully returned to maintaining eye contact with you. You were aware that with each passing moment your heart was beating faster…even more aware that you couldn't stop it even if you tried. "You could've tried to track me."

"Could've done."

"Why didn't you?"

He was still on his knees in front of you - in fact, there was no sign he intended to move now.

"Wanted to see how long it took you to find me. Wanted to see how you'd approach."

You'd never heard his voice like this - so quiet it offered no disruption to the peaceful mountains around you. Not quiet like he normally was to avoid an enemy, quiet to pinpoint that the words were only for you. As if you needed another reason to be attracted to him - as if the very definition of perfection could get any better.

"Did you find my methods satisfactory?"

The longer his eyes burned into yours the easier it was to ignore the dropping temperatures in the air around you.

"I did."

His praise - even just that was enough to be considered such - struck you to your core. You found yourself speechless, your face burning. Unaware for a moment as one of his hands rested against your knee, uncaring that you probably looked foolish as all you could do now was stare. He was willing to hold your gaze for as long as you offered it - a dangerous fact.

"If you're trying to prove yourself to Price, you don't need t' put yourself at more a risk of injury to do it. Proper footwear is important."

"I'm not proving myself to Price. I'm proving myself to you."

He'd been choosing to ignore the signs from you - opting for the safety of denying what was transpiring between the two of you now for the security it provided. It seemed those days were gone - even the air around you seemed to be pushing the two of you together.

Still, this was a territory he'd convinced himself was forbidden, and in his internal fight as to how to move forward it allowed you a moment of doubt. It was you who spoke again before he got the chance, eager to explain your actions further.

Not that you owed it or he expected it…you needed it now to fill the silence.

"I wanted to hear it from you…that I bested you," he could hear the doubt blossoming on the back of your words - it wasn't like you to share like this, it was much safer to keep things to yourself. But if you did that forever, he would as well…and the reality was, you were more willing to break the unspoken rule with yourself before he was. "I wanted to hear the pride in your voice. To see it in your eyes."

His eyes found yours again as he reached a hand toward your face, hesitating for a moment just centimeters away to give you the chance to slap his hand away, waiting for any action from you that confirmed the doubts ever-present in the back of his mind. Instead, ever so subtly your head leaned closer to his hand, inviting the distance to be closed.

All the signs were there, and now he just had to read them.

He grasped your chin between his fingers and held you gently as he drew closer to you, his free hand reaching up to push the bottom half of his mask up. His lips were more inviting than any you'd seen before - it was a cruelty that he covered them, a gift at the same time to your focus.

(For the record - you'd gladly sacrifice your focus if it meant watching his tongue run across his bottom lip. A momentary lapse of your attention was well worth witnessing the way he invited you in now.)

"Who knew you could be so needy?" he questioned, his tongue swiping across his lips again, finger tapping your chin playfully. That alone sent you clenching around nothing - just that taunting question was enough to fully spiral you into desire. "Why don't you tell me why you kept us out here after dark first?"

Your face was burning - every inch of you was burning. Simon was an intelligent man - your plan to string the game along longer hardly a secret now. It was your turn to concede - he'd found you out. Somehow, you couldn't even begin to remotely care.

"For this. This moment alone."

He had come so close now that the distance between your lips could hardly be considered decent. With the smallest movement either of you could have closed it - a kiss both of you had long awaited in silence a promise now.

"Are you hoping for a reward?"

Your mouth had never been this dry and you could only nod, savoring the way his free hand now ran up your side, urging you forward slightly. He began to lean closer, slower than you'd ever seen him move before, to demonstrate where he intended to go, hoping you would follow his lead - hoping you could be the one to initiate what was to come.

"Use your words."

"Yes."

Like a flock of birds startled by a sound too loud cracking in the night like thunder you came crashing together like lightning, his lips finding yours like they'd already done so a thousand times before now. With his strength he had you on your feet and against a tree in the time it took for a gasp to fall from your mouth. He paused, dark gaze softening briefly as he waited for you to give any sort of show that you wanted him to stop. When you didn't, his lips finally claimed yours as your hands pulled him in firmer by grasping his collar.

It was heated - both of you had waited for this moment while simultaneously avoiding it since you'd met, but now that it was here it demanded everything from you - the kiss itself was all-consuming. As your lips and tongues danced together both of you allowed your hands to explore under shirts as best you could. His hands engulfed you - any part of you he grabbed was with as much as he could possibly get his hands on, noticeably holding himself back from grasping tighter in an effort to spare you from bruises.

Until your nails ran down his abs hard enough to leave red trails in their place and he took the unsaid words as further permission, his finger tips digger into your hips harder as he leaned more of his weight against you, truly pinning you to the tree. He gave you a moment to breathe - your vision blurred as you blinked up at him, eager to see the swirls of color in his eyes this close but still hopelessly wanton for his mouth on you some more.

A light smirk played on his lips at your expression - pupils and eyes wide and your already swollen lips remained parted, desperate and shallow breaths falling from your lips. He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth before trailing his lips to your jaw, dragging them back until he reached your ear with a gentle nip at the lobe.

"'s this what you wanted, dove?"

You could hear the desire fueling his words and could only whimper and nod in response as his lips connected to your neck, one of his hands releasing its hold on your hip to unhook the button of your pants. His lips reached lower, beneath where a collar would normally sit on you to suck a spot that raised goosebumps all across your skin as your zipper was undone. You realized you'd yet to give him the verbal response he probably required and it came from your chest as a broken moan as his hand slipped into your pants, pushing your underwear to the side.

"Y-yes, sir."

It was his turn to groan now, his fingers spreading your folds to spread the slick that had already started to leak from you. He bit into the spot he'd been paying attention to, uncaring if it left a mark for others to see in more casual settings, savoring the gasp and moan that fell from your lips and the way your hands desperately clawed at his sides to hold you to earth as your hips bucked forward, his fingers teasing your entrance as they did.

"Fuckin' soaked already, eh, love?" his taunt was directly below your ear followed by a loving swipe of his tongue, uncaring of the sweat that had gathered on your skin throughout the day and cherishing everything you had to offer. His fingers traced your hole slowly, teasing you with the slightest entrance several times before he continued. "I've barely touched you, y'filthy girl…"

You could once again only whimper as two of his fingers slipped inside of you with a quiet 'tsktsktsk' sounding against his teeth, his muttered words of praise and degradation muddled by your hazy mind as he stretched you open. He was well attuned to what your body responded to, pumping the thick digits into your tight sex with the perfect speed, rubbing against the most sensitive and velvet part of your walls perfectly each time to pull more moans from you.

His lips found yours again when he was satisfied you'd finally caught your breath enough to meet you in another bruising kiss, his hand that wasn't focused on fucking your cunt reaching to work his own pants partially down his thighs, freeing his throbbing cock with a grunt. You could tell by the speed to which his fingers entering you picked up and the rough grasp on one of your hands that he needed you just as desperately, guiding your hand to his cock and groaning again into your mouth as you wrapped your hand around his thick shaft, stroking his length tenderly.

As you continued to ensure your hand paid attention to every inch of him available he worked your pants down, making sure to quietly ask you if you were too cold in doing so and rewarding you with a gentler kiss and pressing closer to you when you shook your head. You could feel an orgasm building in you heavily and he picked up on the cues your body provided like it was something he'd been doing for a long time already, pumping his fingers faster as he continued to relentlessly kiss you.

"Go on, then," he coaxed against your lips, still not pulling away enough to give you a chance to suck in a full breath. You were dizzy, vision blurred already as every cell in your body focused on finding release. "Get nice and messy for me to fuck you."

It was that promise that sent you over the edge, the first wave of euphoria crashing over you and blinding your vision as you gushed around his fingers, the sloppy sounds of them entering your spasming repeatedly bringing a smile to his lips. He gave you the chance to breathe finally, releasing you from his kiss as his fingers abandoned your white hot core, hands grasping your hips to lift you upward. You realized your hand had fallen away from his cock as you'd worked through the initial hit of your orgasm and reached for it again, guiding it between the folds of your pussy and guiding it back and worth as he situated you between him and the tree, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist.

You were closer to his face now and could see the emotions in his eyes more - the hunger and need that filled him pouring from his expression and accentuated by a groan as your slick was spread over his cock. His words were barely more than a growl - the conflict deep behind each one only evident because you understood him. "Shouldn't…fuck you raw, dove. Such a bad fuckin' idea…"

You whined to communicate your dissatisfaction, already desperate to feel every inch of him buried in you and logic chased from your mind this soon after one orgasm had rushed through you. You reached between your bodies to rub your thumb over the pre-cum leaking from his swollen cock, grinding against him more. He was coated in your slick already - the fact he could slip into you with enough aid from just that unfocusing his mind.

"Need you, Simon…"

Of course it was his name on your lips that silenced his worries - that completely erased them. He adjusted quickly and with one swift movement his cock was stretching you, splitting you open on inch after inch as his lips found yours again. It was a fact that his length was too much for you to take in full, one you ignored happily and in a moderate state of drunken bliss until he'd bottomed out in you, tip pushing against your cervix. One of his hands remained attached to your hip and the other reached to press against your stomach and the bulge, adding to the pressure seated in your core so much you already started seeing stars again.

"Y'okay, princess?"

Any other time you'd have snipped at him not to call you that, but now as he muttered it in a slightly higher pitch, his whisper desperate and light against your lips you couldn't bring yourself to mind the name - with his cock buried in you you only nodded in response. His eyes met yours again before he leaned his forehead against yours, giving you a moment to focus on the feeling of his pulling his cock out from your velvet walls slowly.

He waited for a moment, teasing you with a delicate kiss to your bottom lip before he sheathed himself into you fully again with one swift thrust, hand pressing down against your stomach again. The sound of your pussy accepting him in with a squelch combined with the moan that ripped from your chest was pornographic and addicting, and he immediately entered a bruising pace to repeat it as much as he could - greedily working for another release from you.

You were thankful that his resolve had completed melted away as he got lost in the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock on each entry, moans and grunts repeatedly falling from his lips as he fucked into you. While most of his hand stayed pressed against his own bulge inside you he reached his thumb down to your clit to rub the swollen nub, eagerly claiming your mouth again with his tongue when a moan erupted from it.

He continued his efforts relentlessly but gave you another break to breathe to lower his head to your neck again, kissing a trail down to your collarbone where he nibbled lightly, testing how the added stimulation would effect you. Despite the repeated moans and whimpers falling from your lips - it wasn't enough from him, the need to push you over the edge and prove to you the months of this building was worth it fueling his movements with primal need.

His hold on your hip became harder as his speed increased, thrusting into you desperately and rough. Distantly you could hear him praising you repeatedly as your walls began to squeeze his length tighter, mumbling quiet words of appreciation into your skin interchangeably between biting and licking and sucking. When your legs began to shake around him, he knew you were close and while he could've continued on just how he was he pressed for more, fucking into your harder with bruising thrusts into you.

(In the morning you'd remark that he could've taken it easier on you considering you had a hell of a hike back to camp and it would only be worse with a bruised cervix and hips. He'd only offer you a smirk as he remarked the pain would be good for you.

But he'd carry you for however long you asked him to if it was too much.)

"That's it, dove," he cooed, adjusting to look into your face again. "Want you to cum on my cock…want to see how messy we can make you, yeah?"

You nodded, vision blurred as you met his eyes again, eager to see the gaze of adoration he was now offering to you. His lips twisted into a smirk at the sight of your mouth hanging open, a bit of drool running down your chin - something you hadn't noticed and would've felt embarrassed over if he hadn't leaned forward and greedily swiped at it with his tongue, kissing you deeply again.

It was then that a second orgasm was pulled from you - but between the stimulation of the head of his cock rubbing against the perfect spot inside you, his thumb circling your clit, and his lips kissing you as though it was life sustaining this time your release squirted from you, your release coating his cock, waist, and thighs. A low groan rumbled in his chest and his speed picked up again, savoring the feeling of your walls clenching around him and milking his own release from him.

He opened his mouth to try to warn you it was coming - a lost cause when you abandoned his kiss to attach your lips to his neck and jaw, lightly nipping and licking at several sensitive spots that were typically covered to the world. He grasped your hip tighter and stilled his movements otherwise as he filled you with his release, his hot seed creating such a large load that it was already leaking from you around him.

You continued to kiss on his jaw as you both came down again, Simon waiting until he was certain you wouldn't fall before he removed his length from you, gently lowering you back to the ground. His eyes remained transfixed on your combined releases leaking down your thighs for a moment, conflicting emotions once again flooding his expression as he gazed at you. Just as you opened your mouth to ask if he was okay he dropped to his knees, using one hand pressed against your stomach to pin you to the tree again as the other lifted one of your legs over his shoulder.

He leaned forward to lick each of your thighs clean - you wished he'd removed his mask briefly so you could tangle your fingers in his hair, the thought was abandoned when he leaned forward fully to connect his flattened tongue to your folds, licking a slow stripe through them gently. You gasped and grasped at what you could, landing on holding the hand over your stomach and the back of his head, anchoring him to you.

He was happy to accept the way you pulled his head forward, burying it into your cunt more until his nose was pressed to your clit. His tongue found your hole and fucked into it, greedily slurping in as much of your releases as he could. It was entirely too much the way he swirled his tongue and sucked against you hungrily, but you still couldn't silence the loud cry of disappointment when his mouth abandoned you only to stand and kiss you again, silencing your whine with his tongue sharing what he hadn't swallowed for himself already.

When he released you again he leaned his forehead against yours, a lazy smirk spread across his lips that matched the smug energy radiating from him. With a shaking voice you quipped at him, unashamed of what he'd reduced you to and completely pleased with how your plan had come to fruition.

"Price told us not to play with our food."

The way his laugh huffed from him in his breathless state was intoxicating, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip briefly catching your gaze and transfixing you again.

"What Price doesn't know won't hurt him.

masterlist. call of duty masterlist.

[skullzy20]

ok I found a good frame to use but I still gave up because this takes too long to do solo

the grendel farm makes me experience pain I never thought possible

[coridallasmultipass]

.

[pandapetals]

You Make Me Nervous

worst wolverine/logan x fem!reader - inspired by a quote i heard from a rom-com, fluff, cute, happy ending, wade being wade, no y/n used, no reader description

Wade gives Logan relationship advice to help win you back.

read on Ao3

Logan couldn’t believe he was sitting on the sofa, nursing a beer, and listening to Wade Wilson of all people giving him “love” advice. It was bad enough that he’d let the fact he was seeing someone slip in front of Wade a month ago—now he was stuck dealing with the consequences.

“You gotta tell her how you feel, peanut. She can’t read your mind—unless she can? Oh my God, is she a mutant?!” Wade gasped, his eyes widening as he dramatically clutched at his heart. “Please tell me she’s a mutant. Oh, is she telepathic? Does she know all your dirty little secrets already? Can she hear what I’m thinking right now?” He leaned in closer, whispering loudly, “Because I’m thinking about chimichangas and some other stuff I probably shouldn’t say in polite company.”

Logan groaned, his head falling back against the worn-out cushions of Wade’s sofa. He stared up at the ceiling, contemplating how quickly this conversation had spiraled out of control. “For the last time, Wade, she’s not a mutant.”

“Boring!” Wade shouted, throwing his hands up in the air before plopping down on the couch next to Logan. “So what’s the problem then? You messed it up, and now you’re sitting here all broody, which I gotta say—doesn’t look good on you. You’re like a sad puppy with claws. A wolv-puppy.”

Logan shot Wade a glare, though the threat was half-hearted at best. “It’s complicated,” he muttered, taking a long swig of his beer.

Wade gasped again, dramatically clutching his chest. “Complicated? No! Say it ain’t so! Two emotionally stunted, violence-prone badasses couldn’t figure out how to talk about their feelings. The horror! This is literally the plot of every rom-com I’ve ever watched, and trust me, I’ve watched all of them.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“Sure it’s not,” Wade replied, winking and nudging Logan with his elbow. “Lemme guess—you didn’t tell her how you felt, she got tired of waiting, and now you’re here with me instead of—oh, I don’t know—being all naked and cuddly with your very hot, very human girlfriend.”

Logan growled, though there was no real anger behind it. Mostly just frustration. “Look, I don’t do the whole... talk about feelings thing. It ain’t me.”

Wade raised an eyebrow, his mouth twitching into a smirk. “No shit, Sherlock. You’re emotionally constipated. But here’s the thing, bud—women? They like to hear how you feel. You can’t just brood in a corner and expect them to pick up on your ‘bad boy with a heart of gold’ vibe all the time. Sometimes, you actually have to say something.”

Logan took another swig of his beer, his jaw tightening. “I’m not good with words.”

“Oh, I noticed.” Wade leaned back, putting his feet up on the coffee table and crossing his arms behind his head like he had all the time in the world. “But you don’t have to be Shakespeare. Just be honest. Tell her she makes you nervous.”

Logan frowned, setting his beer down with a thud. “She doesn’t make me nervous.”

Wade gave him a look, half-amused and half-exasperated. “Okay, fine, you���re not nervous. You’re Wolverine, Mr. ‘I’ve lived a hundred lives and fought more people than I can count.’ But you wanna know why she walked out on you? Because you didn’t let her in. You didn’t tell her that maybe—just maybe—she’s the one thing in this world that doesn’t piss you off.”

Logan huffed, sinking further into the couch. He hated how Wade was actually making sense. That was the worst part of this—Wade being right.

Wade’s smirk grew, sensing Logan’s reluctance. “Look, just say what I’m telling you. Repeat after me: ‘You don’t annoy me, you make me nervous.’ Simple. Done. Boom. You’re back in her good graces and probably naked by the end of the night. Win-win.”

Logan shook his head, rubbing his temple like Wade was giving him an actual headache. “I’m not saying that.”

“Sure you are,” Wade shot back, his eyes gleaming. “You’re gonna walk up to her, all gruff and serious, give her that intense look you do, and say it. ‘You don’t annoy me, you make me nervous.’ Trust me, it’ll work like a charm. Then boom—kissy-face, maybe a little apology sex, and then you’ll be back to being all... domestic or whatever you do in your downtime.”

Logan groaned, running a hand through his already tousled hair. He wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea of taking advice from Deadpool, but he was running out of options. It had been a month since you’d walked out, and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you since. The way you’d looked at him that night—hurt, disappointed—had stuck with him, gnawing at him like nothing else ever had.

“You know she left because you’re an emotional brick wall, right?” Wade added helpfully, flipping through the channels on his TV like this wasn’t the most serious conversation Logan had had in weeks.

Logan clenched his jaw. “Yeah, Wade, I got that.”

“Well, good. Acknowledging it is the first step. The second step is getting off your ass, going to her place, and saying the thing I told you. Preferably with some dramatic background music playing.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Wade. “I don’t need background music.”

“Oh, you absolutely do,” Wade replied, grinning as he finally landed on an 80s rom-com playing on TV. “Don’t worry, I’ll follow behind with a boombox if necessary. Now go get your girl back, Romeo.”

Logan stood up, finishing the rest of his beer in one gulp before tossing the empty bottle onto the coffee table. “If this backfires—”

“It won’t,” Wade interrupted, hopping up from the couch and clapping Logan on the back. “But if it does, we can always go with plan B: I woo her with my devastating charm and then hand her back to you as a peace offering. It’s the perfect plan.”

Logan shot him a warning look, and Wade held up his hands in mock surrender. “Kidding! Jeez. Relax, Wolvie. You’re way too uptight for someone with a healing factor.”

With one last exasperated sigh, Logan headed for the door, his mind already racing with what the hell he was going to say when he saw you. The thought of telling you how he felt—actually putting it into words—was harder than he cared to admit but the thought of losing you for good? That was something he couldn’t handle.

“Go get ‘em, tiger!” Wade called after him, grinning as Logan disappeared into the night.

You hadn’t expected to see Logan. You weren’t sure if you expected to see him at all, to be honest. Yet, there he was, standing in your doorway, looking as rough and rugged as ever. His hair was a mess, his stubble heavier than usual, and his eyes—those deep, unreadable eyes—were locked onto you with an intensity that made your breath hitch in your throat.

“Logan,” you started, your voice softer than you intended.

“I need to talk,” he said, his voice gruff, almost hesitant. Logan was never hesitant. It caught you off guard.

You stepped aside, letting him in, the familiar scent of leather and smoke filling your space as he moved past you. He stood in the middle of your living room, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, looking like he was trying to decide where to start.

“You don’t annoy me,” he said suddenly, the words coming out fast and a little clumsy. “You... you make me nervous.”

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat as you processed what he’d just said. Logan shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes darting away from yours like he wasn’t used to being this vulnerable.

“I didn’t... I didn’t tell you that before,” he continued, his voice softer now, almost grumbling. “And that’s why you left but I don’t want you to leave. Not again.”

There it was—raw, honest, and maybe not perfectly eloquent, but it was Logan. That was all you had wanted—needed.

“You make me nervous because I... I care. More than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time. And I don’t know how to say that. So I mess it up. But I’m not... I’m not ready to lose you.”

You stood there, your heart racing, the weight of his words sinking in. He might not have been good with feelings, but in this moment, he was giving you everything he had.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer, your eyes softening as you reached for his hand. “You don’t have to be perfect, Logan,” you whispered, your fingers brushing against his calloused palm. “I never expected you to be.”

Logan’s gaze dropped to where your hand met his, and for a moment, he just stood there, silent and still, like he was struggling to let himself take comfort in something so simple. You could see the storm of emotions behind those dark eyes—the anger, the frustration, the fear—but also the tenderness he tried so hard to hide.

“I know I’m not easy to be with,” Logan said, his voice rough but quieter now. “Hell, I’m barely around sometimes. And when I am, I don’t—” He paused, running a hand through his already messy hair, clearly frustrated with himself. “I don’t say things the way I should. But I’m here now. And I’m tryin’ to say it.”

His words hung in the air, raw and uncertain, but they were enough. You knew what it took for him to admit this, to let himself be vulnerable in a way he’d always fought against. For you, that effort—his trying—meant more than anything.

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, stepping closer until you were standing right in front of him, your other hand resting on his chest. “I just need you to let me in. I don’t expect you to be someone you’re not, but I need to know that you care. That this matters to you.”

Logan’s eyes finally met yours, and for a moment, all the gruffness and bravado fell away, leaving just the man underneath. The man who, for all his rough edges and scars, cared more deeply than he ever let on.

“I do care,” Logan said, his voice a low rumble. “I just... I don’t know how to show it sometimes. But you’re not like the rest of ‘em. I don’t want you to be just another person I’ve lost.” He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he searched for the right words. “I’ve lost too many people. I don’t want you to be one of ‘em.”

Your heart squeezed at the rawness in his voice, the way he let those words hang heavy between you.

“You won’t lose me,” you whispered, stepping even closer until your body was pressed against his, your hand resting over his heart.

Logan closed his eyes for a second, as if trying to steady himself, then let out a long breath. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and you could feel the tension in his body slowly ease as he let you in—finally, fully.

“I’ll try,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll take care of it... take care of us. Just... don’t walk away again.”

You let out a soft sigh of relief, your forehead resting against his chest as you felt the weight of the past month lift off your shoulders. “I didn’t want to leave, Logan. But I didn’t know if you’d ever let me in. You’re so used to doing everything alone...”

He pulled you tighter against him, his grip firm but not suffocating. “I’m not alone when I’ve got you,” he murmured, his breath warm against the top of your head.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you buried your face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of leather and something undeniably Logan. For a moment, you just stood there, wrapped up in each other, the world outside your door fading into the background.

“I guess Wade was right,” you said after a beat, your voice muffled against his chest.

Logan groaned. “Please tell me you didn’t just say that.”

You laughed softly, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. “He told you to say all that, didn’t he?”

Logan’s face twisted into a grimace, his lips pressed into a thin line. “Yeah... don’t remind me.”

You chuckled, rising onto your toes to press a soft kiss to his jaw. “Well, it worked. So maybe you should give Wade a little credit.”

“I’m not giving that idiot anything,” Logan muttered, though there was a hint of a smile on his lips now. “He’s probably out there right now, planning some dumb stunt just to celebrate how ‘wise’ he is.”

“You know he’s never gonna let you live this down, right?” you teased, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest.

Logan groaned again, his head falling back for a second as if resigning himself to the fate of dealing with Wade’s inevitable gloating. “Yeah, I know. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You grinned, leaning up to kiss him again, slow and lingering. “Well, I think it’s worth it.”

Logan’s hand slid up to cup the back of your neck, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin as he deepened the kiss. When you finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice low and soft. “You’re worth it.”

Wade’s grin was almost as big as the ridiculous neon sign he’d stuck outside his apartment, flashing in obnoxious pink letters: "Wade Wilson: Love Doctor."

“So, how’d it go?” Wade asked, lounging on his couch with a bowl of popcorn like he was watching some kind of live soap opera.

Logan stood in the doorway, arms crossed, looking like he was five seconds away from strangling Wade. “You’re an idiot.”

Wade gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “An idiot who got you back with your super-hot girlfriend? I’ll take it.”

Logan glared at him, but the usual threat behind the look was missing. “You’re lucky I don’t gut you right here.”

Wade tossed a piece of popcorn in the air and caught it in his mouth, grinning. “Please, you love me. Admit it. I saved your romantic ass.”

Logan let out a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You didn’t save anything.”

Wade waggled his eyebrows, leaning forward. “So... did you say the line? Huh? Did you tell her she doesn’t annoy you, she makes you nervous? Was it super romantic? Did she melt? Were there fireworks? Wait—did you guys have apology sex?!”

Logan’s eye twitched. “Wade—”

“I mean, seriously, when do I get to meet her? We could totally do a double date! I’ll wear a tux, she’ll wear that leather jacket you’re always brooding in, it’ll be super cute—"

Logan growled. “You’re pushing it.”

Wade grinned, utterly unfazed. “Admit it. I’m a love genius. I’ve got a natural gift for this relationship stuff. Really, I should be writing books.”

Logan turned on his heel, already heading for the door. “I’m leaving before I do something we’ll both regret.”

“Bye, best friend!” Wade called after him, waving dramatically. “Tell your girlfriend I said hi! And that I want her number!”

Logan didn’t dignify that with a response, but as he stepped outside, he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. Wade might have been the biggest pain in the ass in the universe, but... maybe he was right about one thing.

Some things really were worth it.