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porunareff · 2 years ago
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WHAT ARE WE THINKING FOR THE NEW JOJO'S NAME? 👀👀
It'll be funny if he ends up having a lowkey fuckboy name like Jordan or Joffrey 🤭 Honestly though, I have absolutely no idea but the house is taking all bets!
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theyoungprinceling · 3 months ago
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[I love how Ling and Pride are just dancing around each other
Pride: -pretending to be a normal kid-
Ling: -pretending he doesn't feel like something's off-
It's like a game of who'll crack first 😂]
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shrineofprophecy · 3 months ago
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I feel for the people who enter my blog for the first time (or followed recently)
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honeysunchild · 4 months ago
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Libraries are just about the punkest places in existence and ppl wanna be transphobic in them? Not on my watch fuck you very much
#literally that bitch at the recption desk asking me for my document name#bitch you're obligated by law to respect my chosen name even if it isn't on my ID#you bet your ass I filed a complaint directly with the library administration the second i went through those doors#and you guess what else#that hag had the gall to ask me if I complained about her#“yes ma'am I did” is what i replied to her#A LIBRABRY SHOULD BE LITERALLY THE INCLUSIVE SAFE HAVEN FOR ALL PEOPLES AND THIS BITCH TRYING TO TREAT TRANS FOLKS LIKE THAT??#BITCH FUCK YOU#if you wanna be transphobic you're gonna need to find a new job bc a PUBLIC LIBRARY is not the place to play your stupid hurtfull games#and the way she insisted on checking my books just so she could ask me that when there were three other people available to check them is#just so grating on my cheese#if she were a decent ignorant person she wouldn't have asked to check my books and wouldn't care to interact with me any more than she abso#lutely had to#but nooo#she simply had to ask#that tells me she was just being a mean old bitch bc of pride and prejudice#and picking on me specifically#(book pun heheheh)#bc this was not the first time she did that#and if she acts a fool again#I'll record her and complain again#and I'll go to the fucking cops about it too#gosh I wish she would get fired#her career should be as an insufferable catholic school hall monitor of vice principal bc she's just a mean old hag w no joy in her life#nothing better to do than to pick on minorities and you just know she wouldn't be the actual principal bc ofc she wouldn't#anyway this bitch made my day worse but joke's on her coz I got myself a treat for doing the right thing#which was complaining#but i was seriously considering not going back to the library and omfg#she should really be fucking fired#can you imagine scaring someone off coming back to a PUBLIC FUCKING LIBRARY
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ss-trashboat · 2 years ago
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there are times where i go on twitter and i'm like "no i will not bug my loves, i will let them enjoy their day without me in their mentions being a weirdo"
and yesterday was not one of those days sorry not sorry kyle
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sttoru · 7 months ago
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sukunas fav concubine being bullied by the other concubines?? maybe they push her into the fountain 👀👀👀
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. being bullied because you’re sukuna’s favorite concubine is nothing out of the ordinary. when sukuna finally notices the harassment you’re going through, he doesn’t hold back.
wc. 2.2k-ish
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine! female reader. fluff, angst (hurt to comfort). heian era. bullying. one mention of d.ecapitation. vile language. reader gets called ‘brat’. beta reading? what’s that
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“she’s got nothing going on for her,” “right? i don’t get what he sees in her,” “tch—he’s only using her for her body anyway,” “duhh. he can’t be pleased by her looks. i mean, she’s really ugly. i bet he thinks of her as just ‘nother hole to use. . .”
and the shushed gossips continue. the concubines hanging around the garden have noticed your arrival, though do nothing to stop badmouthing you. they couldn’t care less if you hear what they say.
you’re used to it by now. you’ve adjusted to this life of yours as one of sukuna’s concubines. his favourite at that—which automatically makes you a victim of verbal (and sometimes physical) harassment. the other women in the ruthless sorcerer’s harem can’t stand you.
your eyes are glued to the path you’re walking on. your lady-in-waiting doesn’t utter a single word as well, holding her head low as she follows behind you. you know that the concubines will immediately pick on you if you make eye contact with one of them.
it’s moments like these where you actually miss sukuna. his intimidating presence and (in)direct threats would immediately make the others fall silent. you wouldn’t have to hear them call you nasty names.
though, unlucky you, sukuna’s out on business. uraume is left as a temporary supervisor of the entire estate. to make sure nothing goes wrong. despite all of that, you still find yourself in an unfortunate predicament.
“hey. we’re talking to you,” a female voice rings from behind you. it isn’t your lady-in-waiting, but the brown-haired woman whom you recognise as one of sukuna’s concubines. her name. . . you can’t recall.
she forcefully pushes your shoulder with two fingers. you stumble backwards, nearly tripping over the material of your kimono. you look down at the hem and notice a subtle muddy stain on the cloth now that you’ve accidentally stepped on it.
you curse the woman out under your breath. the kimono is one of your favorites since sukuna had it made and tailored to suit your taste.
“my apologies,” you mumble politely. you do not wish to make a scene as much as you want to defend yourself. not in front of those poor servants who are simply minding their business and tending to the garden.
the lady scoffs. another one joins. soon, four of them surround you, leaving you no place to escape the situation. with every step you take back, they take one forward. it’s intimidating, though you try to make it seem like you’re not afraid of their words.
“tell me,” the blonde one speaks up and her hand trails up your arm. she twirls a strand of your hair around her index finger before harshly tugging at it. you wince, but she doesn’t budge, “tell me what sukuna sees in a worthless slut like you.”
it’s about sukuna every time. you’re getting sick of the way they treat you because of something you can’t control. you don’t know why he favors you out of all the other women at his service. the way you’re treated because of something that you cannot change is getting frustrating.
the brown-haired woman follows the other lady. she pushes you until the back of your shoe bumps against the edge of a fountain. the grande fountain in the yard that you always love to admire.
the tugs at your hair get stronger. your patience is wearing thin. you take some time to reply to the other concubines, hoping to silence them for now.
you look up at the group surrounding you—a grin tugging at your lips as you decide to taunt them. you scoff, “hah. you cannot blame me for satisfying my lord better than all of you could do together.”
audible gasps sound from the group of concubines. they can’t believe you had the audacity to talk back and be disrespectful about it. the comment you made clearly struck a nerve. or in this case multiple.
“oh, you slut!” the blonde one shrieks, clearly more than upset by your doubts about her services as a concubine. in a flash of rage, she gives you a firm push, sending you backwards until you fall into the fountain with a loud splash.
your lady-in-waiting is the one gasping this time. she looks at you with great worry in her eyes, not knowing if she needs to go fetch uraume or not. she doesn’t have much say in the matter either way.
you’re humiliated by this. you can feel the water seep into the robes of your kimono, staining the beloved material. your hair is wet as well, the water droplets falling off the ends of your locks.
“pah, you look pathetic,” one of the lower ranking concubines chimes in—giggling at the unfortunate situation you got yourself in. the others follow with their own high pitched laughs, “serves you right.”
you don’t even know what you should do. your body feels heavy because of the water wetting your clothes. your nails drag along the fountain’s surface, trying to compose yourself before you do anything irrational.
you grit your teeth and take a deep breath. you’re shaking, both because of the cold settling over your body as well as the anger simmering inside of you. you open your mouth to say something, only to be interrupted.
by someone you didn’t expect to see any time soon.
“enough.”
the deep tone sends chills down your spine. the volume of the male voice nearly shakes the ground. it’s powerful, dominant and quite aggressive. as if the owner of the voice is pissed. no, more than that.
the group of concubines freeze, not even daring to turn around and face the unexpected visitor. you notice your lady-in-waiting immediately falling to her knees, bowing at the man whom you know very well.
“my lord,” you stammer out, being the first to speak up and address him. you’re surprised to see sukuna back this early from his business trip. he normally stays away from the estate for days on end.
sukuna’s footsteps are heavy. his strides are menacingly slow. the aura surrounding him makes the others shake—one concubine being smart enough to bow to him. the king of curses is not one to be messed with, especially when he’s angry.
“tsk. have you lost all your respect while i was gone?” sukuna growls, seeing how the group of concubines are frozen in place with fearful expressions on their faces. the fact that they’re not bowing before him worsens his temper, “kneel.”
he raises one hand and they all knew what was going to happen. you squeal and shut your eyes, hearing that familiar and dooming sound of slashes around you. it doesn’t sound like they’ve hit anything, so you peek through your eyelashes.
you see how the group of women have dropped to their knees the instant sukuna raised his hand in that specific manner. everyone knew just what that meant; death to anyone who’s got their head held high in his presence.
you’ve all seen enough people get decapitated by that same action to know that the sorcerer was not playing around.
sukuna scoffs. he walks up towards you, ignoring the pleas of the other concubines that are begging for his forgiveness. his bottom set of eyes look down at them with disdain before focusing on your figure again.
he silently stands still at the edge of the fountain. his large frame looms over you and you find yourself struggling to get up from the water to bow at him as well. you keep your eyes on your lap, “i’m sorry, my lord.”
sukuna hisses at your apology. a warning for you to shut your mouth. you’re apologising when it’s not your fault and that irritates him more than anything. two of his strong arms reach down to pick you up from your vulnerable position.
the king of curses hoists you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing. he’s not bothered by the fact that you’re dripping wet. in fact, both of his left arms wrap around your torso in attempt to warm you up.
“stay. you’ll all be dealt with accordingly when i return,” sukuna harshly orders your aggressors as he turns around and walks away from the group. he carries you in his arms, not sparing a single glance at his concubines.
he doesn’t even care that he stepped on one of the women’s hands as he passed by. the high pitched shriek only serves to annoy him, which you notice by the way he squeezes your waist in response.
it’s silent between you two for a bit. sukuna steps inside of the estate, his ominous aura making you hesistant to speak. you decide to stay quiet for the sake of keeping the peace. for now.
sukuna’s breathing is a little heavy. he’s trying not to lash out or say anything hurtful. he doesn’t like raising his voice at you—but sometimes he feels like he needs to. especially when you land in situations like those.
“how long has this been going on?” sukuna asks through a heavy sigh. his red eyes are focused on the end of the hallway, where his chambers lay. the veins in his neck look like they could pop out any second now, “and don’t you dare fuckin’ lie to me, y’hear?”
you gulp. you’ve never been so nervous to answer him, ever. you attempt to respond, “uhm, for quite a while, my lord.”
sukuna breathes in sharply at the revelation. the fact that you did not specify your answer only made him think that it’s worse than you’re making it out to be. he stops in his tracks, two hands on your waist as he forces you to face him.
your body dangles in the air as sukuna makes you look at him from up close, showing you that dangerous look in his eyes. you do not dare to avert your gaze from his as he speaks.
“you should’ve told me the moment they started disrespecting you like that,” sukuna grunts. another big hand grabs your jaw firmly, squeezing your cheeks together. you whine as it hurt a little. he scoffs and releases your jaw with a light push, “pathetic.”
you feel your body get thrown into your original position once more. your head is upside down and your legs hang limply over his shoulder. you try to defend yourself in a quiet tone, “i thought you were too busy. i didn’t want to bother you with such unimportant matters.”
it’s true. as much as you wanted to tell sukuna about the mistreatment you were receiving, you knew how busy he was attending to more urgent business. you didn’t want to annoy him with your own problems that you could easily solve.
if only you could stand up for yourself.
“nonsense,” sukuna raises his voice in a moment of weakness, though remembers that you’ve probably been through enough for the day. he doesn’t need to add to that by treating you like shit as well.
he simply sighs it off, “unimportant, huh? ‘s that how you think i view you?”
you raise an eyebrow at sukuna’s last sentence. you’re at a loss for words. you know sukuna values you more than any of his other concubines—it’s the main reason you’re getting bullied for—yet you never heard him speak to you in such a surprisingly soft way.
almost like he’s disappointed that you don’t realise the extent of his favoritsm. he cares about you more than you actually think he does.
“i-i’m sorry, my lord,” you stutter. you really do not have a clue about what to say. all you can do is apologise as you’re left overthinking that one little sentence he said.
“what a brat,” sukuna quickly regains his usual stoic and stern composure. he reaches his chambers and enters his personal bathroom before putting you down on your feet. he looks down at your short stature, feeling the warmth of your body leave his skin once you’re separated.
sukuna watches you shiver. he wants to get angry at you for not telling him about anything that’s been going on while he’s not present, though he simply cannot at the moment.
he’ll let you off the hook for now. but, he’s surely going to give you your own special scolding after he’s taken care of the other concubines. the man grabs a large towel from nearby and messily wraps it around your upper body.
sukuna turns around to walk out of his bathroom, looking over his shoulder once more, “get dressed into something else before you catch a cold.”
he calls for a couple servants to tend to you while he’s away to take care of those deviant concubines. sukuna watches the three maids rush to your service, preparing you a new set of clothes as well as trying to dry you off.
his gaze lingers on you for more than is necessary, his jaw clenching at the sight of you trembling from the low temperatures you’re experiencing. sukuna’s going to make sure those other women pay for what they’ve done to you.
he leaves the bathroom after that, though not without leaving you an order to follow;
“you’re staying in my chambers tonight.”
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itneverendshere · 26 days ago
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LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - ONE
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pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: none (angst) chapter two┆ chapter three ┆ chapter four
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The bass from the speakers rattled the glass in your hand as you leaned against the porch railing, eyes scanning the backyard for him—Rafe.
It had been a long month.
Longer than you thought it would be. Usually, when you and Rafe had your little “breaks,” they lasted about a week, maybe two at most. It was always something stupid, a screaming match that ended with slammed doors and his truck peeling out of your driveway. But it never lasted. It couldn’t. You’d known each other too long, been through too much, and deep down, there was this unspoken truth—he’d always come back. Or, you would.
But this time was different.
This time, he wasn’t calling or showing up at your window in the middle of the night, eyes tired and sorry, pulling you into his arms. The space between you had been growing wider since his dad died. And sure, maybe it was your fault for what you said after Ward’s death—But it was the truth.
Still, you hadn’t expected him to shut you out completely. Two months. Two months of silence. And the only thing you’d heard about him since was through Ruthie, Topper’s new girlfriend, of all people. A random comment at Mase’s place—something about how Rafe had been hanging around some pogue girl named Sofia.
You’d rolled your eyes at that. Rafe? With some Pogue? Yeah, right. You’d pretended not to care when she tossed it out like it was nothing
You weren’t stupid.
You’d always known Rafe wasn’t the easiest guy to love. He was complicated, angry, reckless—but so were you. And in some messed-up way, that’s why you two worked. Or at least, why you thought you did. You were just as stubborn, just as damaged. But now, as you sipped your drink and looked around, something felt off. Your gut was tight, and that nagging feeling that’d been growing restless under your skin since the breakup only grew stronger the longer you stood there.
You pushed yourself off the railing, discarding your drink on a table before moving through the crowd, past people you knew but didn’t bother with. Your mind was set on one thing—Rafe. You were done with the break. You had your space. It’s time to get back together. It was never even really a question. It was just the way things worked with you two.
But then there was Ruthie—blocking your path, her wide smile dripping with the kind of smugness that set your teeth on edge. She looked like she was reveling in your misery and that little giggle she let out only made it worse.
"So glad you could make it!" she sang out, her voice too sweet, too bright. Her eyes flickered over you like she was sizing you up, taking stock of every inch of your perfectly put-together outfit.
You forced a smile, “Yeah, well, wouldn’t miss a party like this,” you said, keeping your tone casual.
You weren’t in the mood for whatever game she was playing.
“Oh, I just bet,” she replied, her smile growing wider. She stepped closer, her breath reeking of cheap wine, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. Ruthie always drank too much at these things.
What the hell was her problem? She always acted like she knew something you didn’t, like she held the keys to all the dirty little secrets in Kildare, and she loved dangling them in front of people just to watch them squirm.
“Ruthie, I swear to God—” you began, but she cut you off, her grin widening.
“Oh, honey,” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy, “don’t get mad at me. I’m just the messenger. You should really be talking to Rafe about this.” She took a step back, still smiling, and glanced over her shoulder. “He’s around, you know. You can go find him yourself. See how cozy he’s gotten with her.”
You bit your tongue, jaw, forcing yourself to stay calm. She was trying to get under your skin, like the snake she’d always been. You couldn’t believe Top was lonely and horny enough to finally fall into her claws.
“Thanks for the tip,” you gave her a tight lipped grimace, brushing past her, didn’t try and wait for her reply.
You only caught glimpses of empty rooms along the way. You hadn’t seen him since the break, and part of you didn’t want to admit how much that messed you up. How much he messed you up. Your steps slowed as you neared the hall that led to the back of the house, the sound of voices filtering through the air. You recognized some, laughed at the drunken ramblings, until one voice cut through the noise. Rafe’s.
And then you heard hers. No fucking way.
You didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You told yourself you just needed to see him, just talk to him, tell him this break had gone on long enough, that you were done with the games. That’s when you heard it again—her laugh. It was light, flirtatious, the kind of laugh that made your stomach turn into a million different directions because you knew exactly what it meant.
She was there, with him.
You moved forward, the hallway barely lit as you reached the half-closed bathroom door. Your breath hitched, hands trembling as you peeked through the small crack, unable to stop yourself from looking.
There they were.
She was smiling, laughing softly at something he’d said, her fingers brushing through her hair as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched his hands move, tying the knot in her bikini with such gentle precision like he’d done it a thousand times. The kind of softness he used to have with you. And then he said it, his voice teasing, amused like this was some kind of inside joke between them.
"God, this is just landing right in my lap, isn’t it?"
You froze.
He laughed quietly, his lips brushing against Sofia’s shoulder as he tied the last knot, and the way he touched her—like she was something to be savored—sent a rush of pure, burning humiliation straight through your chest.
You stumbled back, your heart pounding in your ears as Rafe’s words repeated over and over in your head. Landing right in my lap. What the fuck was this?
Your heart clenched, vision blurring as what you were seeing slammed right into you. You backed away, your hand flying to your mouth to stop the sob from escaping. But it didn’t help. Not even à little. The tears burned, and you turned quickly, practically running back through the house and out the door before anyone could see the humiliating mess you were becoming.
It was real. He moved on. In two fucking months.
That’s all it had taken for him to replace you. To be done with you. He was over you. Just like that.
After everything you’d been through together, after all the times you had to pull him out of his own darkness, after the nights spent in his arms when you thought you couldn’t breathe because your whole family was gone—after years of being his and him being yours—how the fuck could he move on when you’d been rotting away in self loathing for pushing him away?
Your head spun as you stumbled down the steps, out to the street where your car was parked. You couldn’t breathe. Your breaths were coming out too fast, too shallow, and your hands were shaking so hard you had to press them against your knees to hold yourself up.
What the hell was wrong with you? You hadn’t even had anything to drink.
But your stomach was rolling, twisting in knots so tight you could barely stand straight. You leaned against the side of your car, the cool metal grounding you to reality for a second before a wave of nausea hit, forcing you to double over and retch onto the pavement. Tears stung your eyes as you coughed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
You felt dizzy, disgusted even, everything you thought you knew, everything you thought was yours, had been ripped out from under you.
Without a single warning. Not a text, not a stupid call, just pure indifference. No respect or regard for you. None of them. Everything you’d just seen replayed in your mind—Rafe, her, the way he touched her like she meant something to him.
“Look who’s still standing!” Topper’s voice. He was laughing as he strolled over, hands shoved in his pockets, that same carefree grin on his face that he always had at parties. “Jesus, what did you have to drink? You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”
Normally, you might have had something to say back, maybe a fiery insult or a roll of your eyes. But right now, everything felt like too much. You couldn’t say a word. You could barely breathe.
Your cousin stopped beside you, his grin dropping as he finally looked at you. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He leaned down, trying to catch your eyes. “You good? You look kinda—"
You cut him off, the question was heavy, like a lump lodged in your throat. “Did you know?”
He blinked, the confusion spreading across his face. “Know what?”
You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest as you forced the words out, your voice shaking. “About Rafe and Sofia.”
You hated saying her name.
Hated that you’d been forced to know it by heart. Topper’s smile dropped, his expression changing.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to, you knew him well enough to read his micro expressions. You clenched your fists, it felt like you were the only one in the island who’d been let out of the secret.
Surely, your friends, your only family would’ve told you something right? It’s not like you were on a remote island away from them. You’d spent the last month in New York, not in the fucking jungle. You visited occasionally. You were a call away.
“Did everyone fucking know?”
Topper exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, we didn’t think it was serious. You know how it is with you two—you’ve done this before. Played with other people…”
Played with other people. Like you and Rafe were just some game, a revolving door of heartbreak and hookups. It didn’t make sense. You’d always known how it worked, understood how these things went—sure, you’d had your minor flings, and he’d had his, but it was never real.
You stumbled back, feeling like you might collapse. “Oh my God, I’m going to be sick again.”
He reached out, obviously concerned since he hadn’t seen you in this desperate state in years, “Hey, hey, calm down. Look, it’s not like it means anything. Rafe’s just—he’s going through a lot with his dad dying, and he… he’s just messing around. You know how he gets.”
But the words did nothing to soothe you. They only made it worse—how everyone knew. How they’d all watched Rafe move on, while you were stuck, still reeling from the breakup, thinking he’d come back like he always did. And he was just out there, with her.
With someone else. You pressed a hand to your stomach, your head hurting. The idea of Sofia, of Rafe being with someone else in ways that only you knew—ways that had always been yours—made you feel like you were being torn apart.
Topper was still talking, still trying to rationalize it, but his words were like static now, blending into the noise of the party behind you. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he was saying. “You know how it goes. You always end up back together. He’s just doing whatever to distract himself.”
That word. Distract himself. Like your entire relationship could be boiled down to that—a series of distractions until you decided to come back to each other, to pick up the pieces and pretend everything was okay.
You could still remember the night your life changed—the phone call, the horrible, gut-wrenching moment when you learned that your family’s private plane had gone down. Your parents. Your sister. Gone. Just like that. And Rafe had been the one to pull you through it. He was the one who had held you as you cried so hard you thought you were going to die, who sat with you in silence when you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, who stayed with you every single night because you were terrified to be alone in a haunted mansion that now felt like a mausoleum.
You had been seventeen, and losing them all at once had killed something inside of you. But he was there. He wasn’t perfect—far from it—but he knew what it was like to grieve.
He knew loss. He understood. Because you’d been there for him two years earlier, when his mom lost her battle to cancer. You could still see the look in his eyes that day—fourteen years old and already drowning in so much anger and sadness, like the world had ripped something essential out of him.
The way he cried at her funeral when he thought no one was watching, and you’d found him, sat beside him in the cold, letting him cry without saying a word. You hadn’t started dating yet, hadn’t crossed that line, but something had changed between you two in those moments.
A connection, a bond forged in shared pain, in the kind of trauma that no one else really got. Maybe that was why you were so obsessed with each other. Maybe it was fucked up, but you couldn’t imagine anyone else understanding you the way Rafe did.
How could it all come down to this? To you standing here, feeling like the world was ending while he moved on, laughing and touching someone else like nothing you had ever been through mattered?
Was that it? Did that one moment, that one argument about Ward, erase everything you’d done for him?
All the times you’d been there, the way you had comforted him when he felt like his life was spiraling? You remembered exactly what you’d said a month after the funeral, when your boyfriend blamed everyone but Ward for his own death. "He wasn’t a good person, baby. I know he was your dad, but you can’t pretend like he didn’t fuck you up."
You hadn’t even said it to hurt him, not really. It was just the truth. Ward had been a terrible father, controlling and manipulative, and you’d spent years watching Rafe try to live up to some impossible standard, chasing his father’s approval like it would ever be enough. But that didn’t make it easier for him to hear. You should have known better. You should have known how raw he was after losing his dad, how complicated his feelings were.
But instead, you’d been brutal. Honest, but brutal.
And now, two months later, here you were—staring at the empty street, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. If that one moment of honesty was enough to make him forget everything else. Now you were just the ex, the crazy one who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut.
“Fuck, why did I say that?” you whispered to yourself, voice shaking. Why couldn’t you have just let it go?
But then another clarity of anger took over you, pushing away the guilt that had been building inside. So you’d been too harsh about Ward. So you’d said what everyone else had been too scared to say. It wasn’t like you’d been wrong. Ward had messed Rafe up.
Everyone knew it. He knew it, deep down.
You gritted your teeth, staring out at the dark street, the low hum of the party still buzzing faintly behind you. You were never going to get that picture out of your head. Like they hadn’t just met, like you hadn’t spent years learning how to calm Rafe when he spiraled, how to hold him together when he couldn’t hold himself.
Your chest tightened again, a bitter taste rising in your throat.
You could still feel the weight of his head on your shoulder that night, years ago, when his mom passed. The silent sobs that shook his body, the way he’d held onto you. That was the real Rafe—the one he hid from everyone else. The one who was lost and broken underneath all the anger. And you’d seen him, really seen him in ways no one else ever could. Not Sofia. Not anyone.
"Look, you're emotional, okay? I get it. Maybe it's that time of the month or something. You know how you always get when your hormones go crazy."
The words got to you, but not in the way he probably thought they would. At first, it pissed you off, like it always did when people tried to downplay your emotions. Everyone always said you felt too much. That you were out of control.
But then…
You stopped moving, blinking rapidly as his words spiraled around in your brain. ‘Time of the month’, he'd said.
Your heart started doing summersaults, your stomach dropping as the idea settled in. You grabbed your phone, hands trembling like leaves as you opened the calendar app. You scrolled, trying to think, trying to remember when you’d last…fuck.
You hadn’t had your period in… so long.
Almost two months. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be some kind of fucked up joke.
You felt light-headed as you reached for your car again, your body shaking so badly you could barely stand against the door. "Shit."
How could you not have noticed?
Topper noticed the change in you instantly, his brow furrowing. "What’s wrong with you?" he asked, his tone softening a little. "You okay?"
You couldn’t even form a sentence. Your brain was too full of what-ifs. Two months late.
You hadn't even thought about it until now—everything had taken so much space in your head that you hadn't noticed the most obvious sign. This wasn’t possible. Your hand flew to your stomach, almost instinctively. You had no idea what to do with the panic creeping up your throat.
“Shit,” You hissed, this time louder, trying to push the growing dread down. But it wouldn't go away.
He was still staring at you, “What? What’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”
But you were already backing away, shaking your head, “I—I need to go,” You mumbled, barely hearing yourself.
Your cousin moved quickly to block your path as you tried to make your way toward the door. That kind of protective streak only made you want to shove past him even more.
"You’re not driving in this state." he warned you, voice firm, his hands up like he was trying to physically stop you.
You just glared at him, “Fucking watch me.”
He didn’t budge. "You get in that car and I'm calling Rafe," he said, sounding dead serious.
You couldn’t believe it. Your head was already spinning, and he was trying to guilt-trip you like this was some kind of helpful thing to do? You threw your hands up in frustration, voice rising, cracking. "He’s too busy fucking Sofia. Knock yourself out."
The words felt like venom in your mouth, the bitterness rolling off your tongue. You didn’t care how harsh they sounded. You didn’t care about anything anymore except getting away from this suffocating stupid place. Before he could say anything else, you made your move. You pushed past him with all your strength, chest hurting with the urge to feel something other than this suffocating mess of emotions and confusion.
Your hands shook as you fumbled for your keys. You managed to unlock the door, sliding into the driver’s seat, the cool leather biting into your skin.
You needed to think. But all you could think about was that one, terrifying realization: you might be pregnant.
Your breath hitched, terror swirling around your chest. The calendar app was still open on your phone, the dates staring back at you like a flashing red warning sign, daring you to confront the truth you’d been ignoring. Two months. Two months without a period. And you hadn’t even noticed. You pressed a hand to your stomach again, heart pounding as if it was trying to escape your chest. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not like this.
You weren’t thinking clearly—shit, you weren’t thinking at all, but you couldn’t stay here. Not with Topper trying to baby you, not with him out there, living his best life like you didn’t even exist.
You turned the key, the engine roaring to life, and just as you gripped the wheel, ready to peel out of the driveway, Topper bolted in front of the car, planting himself right there like some kind of human roadblock. Fucking idiot. His arms were stretched out wide, like he could somehow stop you by sheer willpower.
“You’re not doing this, I swear to God, you’re not!” he yelled, his voice frantic, echoing off the dark street. He looked panicked, pleading even, like he was convinced you’d actually go through with it.
You gritted your teeth, eyes narrowing on him through the windshield. “Top, I swear, you have three seconds before I run you over.”
“Are you serious right now?” he yelled, his voice cracking with disbelief. But he didn’t move. “You think I’m letting you drive like this? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind!”
Your fingers gripping the wheel so hard it hurt. You weren’t bluffing. You were too wound up, too out of control. The only thing keeping you from flooring him was the fact that, deep down, you knew your cousin didn’t deserve it.
You just needed to get out of here.
“Move!” you screamed, “I’m not joking’, Topper. Get the fuck out of my way!”
His face twisted with frustration as he looked over his shoulder, something catching his attention. He started waving, yelling at someone, his voice cutting through the night, “Rafe! Dude, get over here!”
Your brain stopped. It was like everything had been sucked out of you. Your hands froze on the wheel, your entire body locking up as you looked to your right and saw him—Rafe. Right there in the yard.
And she was with him. He had his arm draped around her casually, like she belonged there.
Like he belonged there, just standing in the open, so stupidly comfortable in his new life. His head turned when he heard Topper call out, and your eyes locked for a less than a second. A moment too long. A moment that broke something inside you.
While Topper was distracted, his attention on Rafe, you made your move. You slammed your foot on the gas, tires screeching as the car lurched forward, swerving just enough to dodge Topper’s stunned figure. You heard him yell after you, but his voice faded into the background noise as you sped away.
You didn’t look back. Not at Top, not at Rafe.
The only thing you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out everything else. You hated this. Hated that you were crying. Hated that you’d let yourself get to this point.
“God, what is wrong with me?” you muttered, your voice quavering as the words tumbled out. “Why the fuck am I crying over him? I shouldn’t be crying over him.” You slammed your palm against the steering wheel, angry, disgusted with yourself.
You’d told yourself you were stronger than this—that after everything you’d been through, you didn’t need him or anyone else. But here you were, falling apart like some pathetic excuse of a mess because of him. Because he had always been there, hadn’t he? After the crash, after you lost everything, he was the one constant, the one person who kept you from completely losing it. You’d relied on him so much. Too much.
“Fuck,” you hissed, tears streaming down your face. Your throat burned as the memories came flooding back, memories of all the nights you’d spent together, of him holding you while you cried yourself to sleep, of the way he’d pulled you out of the gloom when you thought you’d never get back up again. You thought he’d always be that person for you, the one who understood your broken pieces because he had his own. You’d always fit together perfectly.
You pulled into the parking lot of the nearest drugstore, your hands still shaking as you put the car in park. The tears had dried up on the drive over, replaced by a cold determination. You didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to even think about what you were about to do.
The moment you stepped out of your car and into the harsh fluorescent lighting of the drugstore, you felt completely out of place—like a stranger in your own skin. You hadn’t even thought about how ridiculous you must’ve looked until you caught your reflection in one of the store’s glass windows. Your hair, still perfect from earlier, framed your face in soft waves, and your makeup was flawless, despite the crying. The designer dress you were wearing—sleek, red, and worth more than half the shit in this store—with its sticky floors and white lights, it made you feel like an alien. Like you didn’t belong.
You caught the eyes of a couple of people loitering outside the entrance as you walked in, their stares lingering a little too long, murmuring to each other behind smirks. You knew they were talking about you. They always did, kook queen, overdressed, out of touch, bitch, whatever they wanted to call you.
The sliding doors let out a grating beep as you entered, and the air inside was stale and heavy, reeking of floor cleaner and cheap perfume. You adjusted your grip on your purse, strutting past the aisles with your head high even though everything inside you felt like it was falling apart.
You always did this—dressed to kill, head up, like armor. But there was no real glamour in buying pregnancy tests from some random pharmacy in the middle of the night. No way to mask the deep, growing hysteria in your bones.
The girl behind the register clocked you the second you stepped up to the counter, her eyes dragging over your like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. You could almost hear her thoughts: What the hell is someone like you doing here?
You didn’t even look at her. You just wanted to pay and leave without a scene. But of course, people always found a way to make things worse. She hesitated before scanning the tests, looking like she might say something. For her own good, you prayed she didn’t.
You threw the money on the counter before she could open her mouth, two crisp hundreds on top of the total. The cash hit the counter with a sharp thwap and you gave her the bitchiest look you could muster. “Take it. Keep your fucking mouth shut.”
She swallowed hard, her hand trembling as she slid the bills into the register. You didn’t care that she was young or nervous. You weren’t here to make friends. You weren’t here for anyone’s sympathy. The extra money would make sure she didn’t talk, that was all that mattered.
You walked out, your heels clicking against the linoleum, head high, even though every nerve in your body screamed for you to disappear. You slid into your truck, slamming the door shut, the silence finally hitting you. For all the designer clothes, the makeup, the money—none of it meant shit right now. You felt so small. So scared. Terribly lonely.
You sat there for what felt like forever, staring at the stupid bag in the passenger seat like it had the power to ruin your whole life—which, to be fair, it kind of did. You didn’t know what the fuck you were going to do. Not about any of it.
Your foot tapped nervously against the floor mat, the sound too loud in the quiet car. The bag crinkled as you glanced at it again, your stomach twisting all over again. A bunch of pregnancy tests. How had it come to this?
Rafe. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself not to think about him, not to picture his face when he found out. If he found out. Shit, what the hell was he going to do? He was with Sofia now, right? So was this going to ruin his life too? Did he even deserve to know?
It was probably nothing, you told yourself. Maybe the separation anxiety had gotten to you. Maybe your body was just fucked up from all the stress. Maybe your period was just late because you’d been so all over the place lately. There could be a million reasons. You didn’t even want to think about what would happen if it wasn’t nothing.
You didn’t want to cry anymore. Not after all of this. Not over Rafe. Not over your life turning into some fucking soap opera you didn’t even want to be a part of.
The second you were inside your house, the walls closed in around you. Your perfectly decorated place—the one you’d spent so much time making into a refuge, an escape—it didn’t feel like that anymore. Every designer pillow, every carefully chosen piece of art, mocking you.
Your phone buzzed in your bag, you reached for it. Of course, it was Rafe.
“I don’t know what the fuck that was but save the fucking dramatics, okay?”
The nerve. The fucking nerve of him to act like he was the center of your universe, acting like you were some inconvenience. Months of silence and this was the first thing he decided to text you? Knowing how much you despised when people called you a drama queen? Fucking piece of shit.
Your fingers hovered over the screen, a thousand different responses running through your mind. You wanted to tell him to shove something up his ass. But you did the only thing that felt right in that moment.
You blocked him. You stared at your phone, half expecting it to buzz again, half dreading that it wouldn’t. It was done. You cut him off, at least in that tiny, virtual way. You sat there for a minute, gripping the phone, trying to remember how to breathe.
This was supposed to feel empowering, right? You told yourself it would. That cutting him out would help you get back some control. But your mind wouldn’t settle. Those damn pregnancy tests were sitting in the bag next to you.
You were tired.
Exhausted in a way that had nothing to do with how late it was or how emotionally spent you were. You kicked off your heels, letting them clatter against the hardwood floor as you sank into the plush couch. Your house felt cold and unwelcoming tonight. Like a showroom. No comfort to be found. Not here, not in the muted tones of beige and white. Not in the sleek lines of furniture that were supposed to exude elegance and sophistication.
Maybe tomorrow you’d feel differently.
Maybe you’d wake up with a clear head, ready to take the stupid tests. Maybe you’d be strong again like you’d been so many times before.
Tonight, you were just tired. You leaned back against the cushions, closing your eyes for a moment, willing the noise in your head to quiet down. Sleep. That’s what you needed. Just a few hours to clear your mind, and in the morning, you’d deal with everything.
All of this would go away.
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TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb
@rafesbbyy @whytheylosttheirminds @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616
@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei
@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2 @starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols
@icaqttt
3K notes · View notes
lovelybucky1 · 3 months ago
Text
Ain’t as Good as I Once Was
warnings: old man!logan x AFAB!reader, riding, bratting, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, age gap, punishment, degradation, 18+ minors dni, divider from @strangergraphics
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“C’mon, girlie, if you want it, you’re gonna have to take it yourself,” Logan’s gruff voice says from below you.
You’re sitting on his lap, trying desperately to fuck yourself on his cock as he sigs back and watches you. Despite your begging, Logan refuses to do the work for you.
“I’m too old for this shit. If you’re that fuckin’ horny, you can take care of it yourself,” he told you smugly.
You sank down on his cock and have been trying to bounce on it, but the strain on your thighs is too much to reach a satisfying pace.
“Please, Daddy, can’t you just fuck me?” you whine pathetically. Logan smirks a bit and chuckles through his nose.
“I ain’t as good as I once was, dollface. I doubt my old bones can fuck you the way you want me to,” he says, not seeming apologetic in the slightest.
You know he’s full of shit. He may be old and gray, but his healing factor keeps him in peak condition. He’d be able to fuck you just fine, he’s just a crotchety old man who wants to see you suffer for his entertainment.
He places a large hand on your hip and starts gently guiding you, urging you to rock back and forth. You follow his movements and while it’s better than what you were attempting, it’s still not what you want.
“You’re a spoiled fuckin’ princess, that’s the problem. So used to Daddy takin’ care of ya, you forgot how to ride, is that it?” Shamelessly you bite your lip and nod.
You wouldn’t call yourself spoiled. Well cared for is a better term. Logan never lets his girl go to bed unsatisfied, and now he’s suffering from the consequences of his actions.
“C’mon, flip me over and fuck me,” you say.
Logan raises an eyebrow at you.
“Who do you think you are, givin’ orders? If I want you to ride my cock, then that’s what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna fuck that pretty pussy with it until she’s had her fill.”
Logan lets go of your hip but you keep up with the same pace he set. With his hand now freed, he reaches over to the nightstand to grab his cigar and lighter. He lights up and smokes it as if he were at the bar, not in bed, deep inside his girl.
He looks up at you, bored, as smoke pours out of his mouth. You’ve been riding the edge of just enough for the past fifteen minutes and you’re getting increasingly frustrated with Logan’s lack of help. You briefly consider being more of a brat in hopes of egging him on enough to punish you with a hard fuck, but with the kind of mood he’s in, it’s likely that the punishment would be stopping entirely.
You let your head hang down as you brace yourself with your hands on his chest. The solid muscle covered in gray hair is hot, unnaturally so, under your touch and you desperately want to feel that heat on your back while he fucks you from behind.
“Daddy,” you plead quietly.
“What’s the matter, dollface?” he asks, playing dumb like the tease he is.
“I can’t do it.”
Logan smirks around his cigar like you just said the magic words he’s been waiting to hear this whole time.
“What’re you saying?”
You pout down at him. “I can’t make myself cum. I need you to do it for me”
Logan, surprisingly, grins at you. “Bet you regret calling me an old man now, huh?”
You furrow your brows in confusion, but you quickly realize what he’s talking about. Before this all started, you pounced on his lap and asked him to fuck you. He told you he was busy reading his book, and in your usual bratty fashion, you replied, “What, you can’t get it up, old man?”
“I didn’t mean it, Daddy,” you whine. “I swear, I was just teasing you.”
Logan hums but makes no effort to move. “Guess you better start behaving if you want something from me.”
“I promise I’ll be good. I won’t talk back anymore,” you attempt to bargain.
You both know that’s about as empty of a promise as you could give, but Logan doesn’t seem to care. He prefers when you’re trouble anyway; it’s the game you play. He’s the grumpy and mean and you’re the spoiled, demanding princess.
Logan stubs his cigar out in the ashtray on the nightstand and places both hands on your hips. He lifts you off of him with ease, something that never fails to amaze you, and sets you on the bed next to him.
He moves so he’s kneeling between your legs and holding them up around his waist, his cock lined up at your entrance.
“Spoiled fuckin’ rotten, you are,” he mutters as he pushes inside.
Logan always makes sure his girl goes to bed satisfied, no matter how much of a brat she is.
4K notes · View notes
harrysfolklore · 6 months ago
Note
charles and his childhood best friend but he's secretly in love with her pretty please
childhood friends to lovers is my favorite trope 🥺 i hope you like this
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 102,625 others
yourinstagram perks of your best friend being a formula one driver: you get to travel to cool places to see him work
📸 by my love @boyfriendsusername
view all 3,087 comments
charlesfan1 the most beloved non wag is coming
charlesfan2 “📸by my love” charles was found fuming
↳ charlesfan3 no bc he refuses to admit he’s in love with her (we all know it)
lilymhe i can’t wait to see you 💗 ♥︎ by author
charlesfan3 is her boyfriend going to the gp?? bc is he is we’re getting pissed off charles again lol
↳ charlesfan2 brazil gp flashbacks 😭
landonorris Don’t forget about me and come say hi ♥︎ by author
↳ yourinstagram will do landoeeee 🫡
↳ landofan1 love this duo
charlesfan4 why does she have to take her boyfriend? 😫 actually can she break up with him and just get with charles ?
↳ charlesfan1 you guys are so disrespectful sometimes, they’ve been best friends since forever you shouldn’t be projecting a relationship between them when there isn’t
boyfriendsusername 😍😍 ♥︎ by author
charles_leclerc About time, I miss you a lot ❤️
↳ charlesfan2 MARRY HER
↳ yourinstagram same hereeeee
↳ charlesfan3 she replied to charles’ comment but not to her boyfriend’s. see? she’s in love with him
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liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 114,824 others
yourinstagram cooking breakfast because running over my ex with a truck is not the right thing to do
view all 4,033 comments
charlesfan1 PAUSE. SHE BROKE UP WITH THAT DUDE??
charlesfan2 okay sucks for her but i bet charles is jumping up and down 😭
francisca.cgomes It’s his loss 💗 Ilysm ♥︎ by author
↳ charlesfan1 she’s so loved along the wags she just needs to become a wag herself
carlossainz55 Sending you a big hug, nena ♥︎ by author
↳ carlosfan1 carlos what are you doing here charles would have your head if you ever try something with her
charlesfan3 ITS TIME FOR YN AND CHARLESSSSS LOVE STORY
charlesfan4 it’s kinda insensitive that you guys celebrate that she broke up with her boyfriend and the comments about how she should get with charles… she’s a human being who just had a breakup and charles is literally her best friend and nothing more
charles_leclerc I don’t think it’s a wrong thing to do. Actually, I can run over him with my Ferrari if you want, I know a thing or two about driving cars at a really fast speed 🤷 ♥︎ by author
↳ charlesfan1 CHARLES WTF 😭
↳ charlesfan2 HE HAS NO CHILL
↳ charlesfan3 we knew he always hated him
↳ yourinstagram 😂😂 love you, charlie
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liked by yourinstagram, pierregasly and 1,002,367 others
charles_leclerc When your best friend is obssesed with all things aesthetic
view all 15,044 comments
charlesfan1 LOVE OF MY LIFE
charlesfan2 he’s really the hottest man alive
landonorris Can she be my best friend too?
↳ charles_leclerc No
↳ charlesfan1 😭😭😭
leclerc_pascale ❤️
charlesfan3 he looks so boyfriend so i think he should be yn’s boyfriend
yourinstagram you look cute through my lens 🥲
↳ charles_leclerc I always look cute what do you mean
↳ charlesfan1 stop flirting in front of us
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liked by charlesfan1, charlesfan2 and 34,836 others
f1gossip Charles Leclerc and YN out in Monaco tonight
view all 2,088 comments
charlesfan1 BOYFRIEND AND GIRLFRIEND
charlesfan2 they’re both so pretty. they would make the hottest couple on the grid
charlesfan3 why don’t they just get together ffs 😭
↳ charlesfan1 streets say (and ny street i mean people from monaco) that charles has been smitten over her since they were kids but she always dated other guys
↳ charlesfan2 this must be true like we’ve seen it
charlesfan4 something in the air is shifting people maybe they’re finally confessing that they’re in love with each other lol
↳ charlesfan1 LETTUCE PRAY
charlesfan5 why is this comment section full of weirdos they’re FRIENDS
↳ charlesfan2 stfuuuu
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liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 120,725 others
yourinstagram back on my tifosi era ❤️
view all 5,033 comments
charlesfan1 YEEEEES
charlesfan2 imagine being charles’ best friend and traveling with him for races
↳ charlesfan1 babe that’s not his best friend that’s the love of his life
lilymhe IT WAS SO GOOD TO FINALLY SEE YOU ♥︎ by author
↳ yourinstagram i literally LOVE you 🤍
↳ charlesfan1 just become a wag already
charlesfan3 see charles was all smiles today because her (ex)boyfriend no longer tags along
landonorris When will the two of you confess to each other
↳ landofan1 LANDO😳
↳ charlesfan1 WTF IS HE CALLING HIM OUT
↳ yourinstagram you’re so weird i never know what you’re talking about
↳ charlesfan2 of course yn is playing dumb
↳ charles_leclerc ???
↳ charlesfan3 PLEASE 😭
charles_leclerc I look weird in that pic :(
↳ yourinstagram you look cuuuute
↳ charlesfan2 KISS KISS
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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 250,388 others
yourinstagram i’ve known and loved this one since he was this little. growing up, we talked about what he would become countless of times, and in every single conversation i told him that he was going to achieve every single one of his dreams. today he drives the monaco circuit for the 6th time, and i know this year will be his year and monaco will finally love him back 🏆
love you beyond words @charles_leclerc ❤️
view all 10,187 comments
charlesfan1 AWEEEE
charlesfan2 THIS IS ADORABLE I CANT
leclerc_pascale ❤️❤️❤️❤️
↳ yourinstagram tysm for the picture 🥺
charlesfan3 JUST GET MARRIED ALREADY
landonorris Little Charles Leclerc
scuderiaferarri FORZA CHARLES ! 👏
charlesfan4 CANT YALL SEE THEYRE MEANT TO BE ???
↳ charlesfan1 the thing is we all can see it but they just can’t
charlesfan5 seriously if this ain’t love then what is
f1gossip Charles and YN’s romantic relationship will be confirmed any minute now
↳ charlesfan2 WHAT DO YOU KNOW
↳ charlesfan3 SPILL THE DEETS
charles_leclerc Thank you for being my biggest supporter and never leaving my side. I love you so much 🤍 ♥︎ by author
↳ charlesfan1 STFU STFU
↳ charlesfan2 YN WAKE UP
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liked by yourinstagram, oscarpiastri and 3,436,137 others
charles_leclerc BEST DAY EVER ❤️❤️❤️
Thank you for everything, I love you all ❤️🤍❤️🤍
view all 43,826 comments
charlesfan1 PRINCE OF MONACO DID IT
schecoperez Bravo Charles! 👏
charlesfan2 IM STILL CRYING
oscarpiastri Congrats bro 👊
pierregasly Bravo Champ!! Trop content pour toi!! ❤️
georgerussell63 Congrats mate !!
charlesfan3 HE DID IT FINALLY
charlesfan4 IVE BEEN CRYING FOR HOURS NOW
scuderiaferrari Bravo Charles !! So proud ❤️
yourinstagram im so proud of you, words are not enough. this was your dream and you achieve it, i love you so much
↳ charlesfan1 AHHHHH
↳ charlesfan2 ADDRESS THE RUMORS WE LITERALLY SAW YOU KISSING
↳ charlesfan3 JUST GET MARRIED
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liked by charles_leclerc, lilymhe and 376,956 others
yourinstagram when we were 15 i told him that i would be his girlfriend the day he won the monaco grand prix. i guess it's time 🤍
view all 15,875 comments
charlesfan1 AHHHHHH
charlesfan2 JSDJOEHYSIJON I CANT BELIEVE THIS
francisca.cgomes 🥹🥹🥹🥹
charlesfan3 OMFG HOW IS THIS REAL
arthur_leclerc Finally ♥︎ by author
↳ charlesfan1 ARTHUR 😭😭😭😭
↳ charlesfan2 even their families were rooting for them I CANT
scuderiaferrari ❤️
charlesfan4 WE WERE RIGHT ALL ALONG
charlesfan5 THIS HAS BEEN THE MOST PERFECT WEEKEND EVER
carlossainz55 👏👏👏
charlesfan6 they were always meant to be but they were too stubborn to see it
landonorris I LOVE LOVE ❤️
↳ landofan1 PLEASEEEEE
charlesfan7 they have been in love for YEARS i cannot
charlesfan8 THIS MOMENT WAS LITERALLY PERFECT
charles_leclerc I’ve waited my whole life for this moment 🤍
↳ charlesfan1 IM CRYING AGAIN
↳ charlesfan2 CHARLIE DONT DO THIS
↳ charlesfan3 they’re so invisible string coded
↳ charlesfan4 MY FAVORITE LOVE STORY EVER
↳ yourinstagram 🥺🥺❤️
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liked by yourinstagram, landonorris and 3,574,037 others
charles_leclerc Lucky I’m in love with my best friend ❤️
view all 44,399 comments
charlesfan1 AND IM CRYING AGAIN
charlesfan2 THIS IS PERFECT
pierregasly Adorable 🙌
charlesfan3 HANG THIS PICTURE IN THE LOUVRE
charlesfan4 SOBBING SO BADLY RN
instagram 🥺
scuderiaferrari ❤️
charlesfan5 every single soul was rooting for this relationship fr
charlesfan6 I LOVE THEM SM
charlesfan7 childhood friends to lovers 🥹
yourinstagram i love you so much 💗💗
↳ charlesfan1 took you decades to find out but it’s okay girl
↳ charlesfan2 i can’t get enough of this relationship
↳ charlesfan3 YOU FINALLY REALIZED
3K notes · View notes
thinkinonsense · 1 month ago
Text
WICKED
old man!logan howlett x young fem!reader
cw: cheating, heavy flirting, smut, kinda dark
authors note: i have no idea what came over me and i cannot explain it. also! gif credit to the amazing n talented @silverskyeline <333
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he never should've gone to the bar. never should've let you run your pretty mouth. most definitely never should've bought you that martini. every weekend he watches you seduce the men at the bar until one of them falls into your trap.
logan would scoff, mumbling something under his breath about how stupid that bastard must be. despite the fact that the only thing holding him back from your advances was the thick gold band on his finger, reminding him of where his loyalty should be.
"lovely seeing you here again, logan."
he loathed your wicked smile and how your voice sounded like rain fall. trying his best to avoid staring into the eye of the storm but your presence demanded to be seen. practically ripping his hazel gaze off the wooden table and over to that tiny dress you were wearing. dark navy tight against your skin in a way that could make any man sin.
"missed ya' last weekend." you purr. "where were you at?"
"home." he states, gruffly.
"that's boring. why were you at home?"
"wedding anniversary."
the words made your tummy flip with excitement. you didn’t know much about logan outside of his favorite brands of alcohol, but you did know that he had a wife at home. he never mentioned her by name. sometimes, she would call the bar if it was “too late” for him to be out but other than that, she was a ghost.
“cute. you should bring her here one weekend.” you propose, almost making logan choke on his whisky. “bet she would love to see where you run and hide at night.”
“it’s not her kinda scene.” he responds.
“aw, i’m sure we would be friends.”
“doubtful.”
“and why’s that?” you fake pout.
logan leans in close before whispering, “don’t think she would appreciate you beggin’ for her husband to fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom every weekend.”
“i didn’t say we would stay friends.” you giggle, making his cock stir in his work pants. “also, the invite is still open if you miss fuckin’ someone younger.”
the second you are out of sight, off in the pool room next door annoying some other asshole, he groans under his breath. logan hated how well you read him. you knew he wanted you but you were smart enough to make him come crawling to you if he wanted to feel your tight cunt wrapped around him.
after a couple minutes, a few men left the room and logan got up to take their place. when he walked inside he saw it was empty except for you sitting in one of the chairs on your phone.
“glad you decided to join me.” you smile up at him.
logan ignores you instead going over to get a stick and start playing. you finish your martini and join him as he sets up the balls. catching you off guard, he tosses you a stick too.
“if i win, you leave me alone for good.” he huffs in your face.
“sure but what do i get when i win?” you smirk.
logan ignores your question and growls, “ladies first.”
it's dead silent as you bend over the pool table to line your stick up to the diamond. logan's far too busy staring at the wet spot on your light blue panties. he never admit it, even if you knew for sure that's where his eyes were. it wasn't until he lost sight of the spot that he realized you already took your shot.
"your turn, old man." you tease, moving out of his way.
the two of you go back and forth for a bit but you were growing tired of this game. instead you decided to make things even more interesting.
"so when i win, are you going to finally fuck me?" your bluntness always left logan speechless.
"you already know the answer to that, sweetheart." he replies, trying to focus before shooting.
"sure, blah, blah, blah, something wife." you mock with an eye roll that almost made logan chuckle. "but seriously? when was the last time you two had sex? you probably got cobwebs in there."
that got a small smirk out of him. one that you count as a win.
"it's just a band. it comes off, see?" you lean over and take the ring off of his finger, placing it on the table.
logan stared at it for too long. feeling the distance of his commitments. you turn his head towards you with a light hook on his grey bearded chin. the lust in his eyes told you that you had won.
"you know what else comes off that easily?" you whisper, lips inches from his. "my panties."
a good man would've walked away. a good man would've returned home to his wife. but logan wasn't a good man. never had been and never would be.
an animalistic urge fell over him, grabbing you with the ease of a rag doll and bending you over the pool table. the wedding band was inches from your parted lips, moaning prettily as logan spread you open with his thumbs and licked a wide strip up your cunt, burying his face in your arousal and letting it coat his beard until he could only taste you.
"f-fuck me." logan groans, pulling back to catch his breath. "taste better than i imagined."
"knew you wanted me." you smirk, feeling his middle finger circle your entrance before pushing in. a loud moan is pulled from your throat as he hits that spongey spot with ease.
"weren't lying 'bout being tight." logan marvels, watching the way you suck in his finger.
he attempts to push in his ring finger as well and you wish you could've seen his face while he struggle to get it in. quickly, you reach for the wedding ring next to you then grab his hand from inside you. fumbling to get the ring back on him before he questions you.
"what are you—"
"go on." you coax, looking back at him with dark eyes. "try it now."
logan shouldn't have been so turned on from the image of his wedding ring coated in your slick; but here he was watching it disappear and reappear inside of you.
"right—fuck! r-right there..." you pant, arching farther back to meet his thrusts.
"does it turn you on being a homewreaker?" logan asks, back up on his feet and nibbling at your ear. "knowing that you have a old married man fucking you with his wedding band on?"
"mhm..." you mumble against the table. he takes the opportunity to pick up his pace, feeling you clench down. "d-don't stop..."
within seconds, your gushing around his fingers and dripping down his hand. right when he pulled out of you, you turn around and push him back into one of the plush chairs to undo his belt. falling to your knees, you begin to stroke him, tracing his veins with your tongue and tapping the tip on it.
"always knew you had quite the mouth on ya', princess." he grunts with a fist full of your hair.
you smile, taking him all the way until his tip hit the back of your throat and the hairs at his base tickled your nose. logan was finding it harder and harder to control his animalistic urge while your gagging and drooling all over his lap. quickly, you release him with a pop and stand up to straddle him, lining him up to your entrance and sinking down slowly.
"shit, you're so fucking tight." he says, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises.
"only for you, logan." you whine, grinding down on him, rocking back and forth.
roughly, logan pulls the rest of your dress off of you, throwing it on the floor somewhere behind you. large hands touching you all over in ways you've only dreamt of. meanwhile, your attacking his neck like a madwoman. biting and marking him up like he's yours.
desperately, logan fucks up into you, needing more. his tip nudges that sweet spot within you, making you moan loudly in his ear, encouraging him to go faster. so focused on the squealing of your soaked pussy. he captures your lips, kissing you tenderly. you can feel his high approaching, twitching inside of you, and you needed to do one last thing before it hit him.
carefully you pull away, gripping his chin and pulling him face to face with you. his eyes are blown out with desire as he stares at you.
"tell me your mine, lo." you whisper against his lips.
logan can feel you clench tightly around him, waiting for him to give into you completely. he presses his thumb down on your button, moving in fast circles to get you there with him.
"f-fuck, i'm yours, baby." he moans, coating your walls with spurts of his release. "i'm yours."
"t-that's right." you moan, kissing him roughly as your high washes over you.
"you look so pretty like this." he coos, watching the pleasure run over you.
for a moment the two of you sit still, trying to catch your breath. logan's mind races, not meaning to cum inside of you but it's far too late now.
"lets keep this a secret between the two of us, huh?" he says while you play with his hand, mischievously. before he can notice, you pocket the ring.
"sure thing, baby." you reply. "i'll gladly be your little secret but have fun explaining those marks to the old ball and chain."
logan looks down at you and that wicked smile of yours, only to realize just how fucked he is.
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badjokesbyjeff · 6 months ago
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An old blind man walks into a bar and orders a beer
The bartender asks “Have you been blind long?” He replies, “I’ve been blind for 50 years, but my hearing is perfect. I’ll bet I can tell you what’s happening in any room in this bar.” The bartender says “Go ahead and try.” The old man cups a hand round his ear and tilts his head to the ceiling. “In your upstairs bathroom, the one at the end of the corridor… a tap’s been left on.” The bartender sends his nephew to check, who returns and confirms the findings. 
“Could’ve been luck,” says the bartender, “Go on, try again…” The old man cups his ear, tilts his head to the floor and listens. “I hear scurrying in your cellar,” he says, “You have rats.” “That’s bullshit,” says the bartender, and sends his nephew to check. He returns and the old man is right, again. 
Now intrigued, the bartender urges him to try again. He cups a hand round his ear and listens toward the bar. “In the storeroom down that corridor, someone’s having sex now”. The nephew checks the storeroom, and two of the staff screwing. 
“Jeez old man, you truly are incredible,” says the bartender, “what else can you hear?” The blind man places his head on the bar. He raises off the bar and says, “Your beer pump is broken”. The bartender checks the pump… “Ha! You’re wrong old man. It’s working perfectly!” “Then where’s my fucking beer?”
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kurooh · 29 days ago
Note
Can you make something with Sero and Shinsou? Maybe they firts eating you out or making you squirt (I'm just really dumb I asked in the comment section and I don't even know if I'm sending it in the right place, it's my first ever ask, so sorry for anything and the bad english, I love your writing so much lots of love for you)
SOMETHING NEW ☆ MY HERO ACADEMIA
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⊹₊˚. featuring midoriya izuku, sero hanta, kaminari denki, shinsou hitoshi, & takami keigo trying something new in the bedroom with you.
warnings. 18+ content — mdni, f! reader, threesome, oral, facesitting, squirting, a vibrator, filming, orgasm denial, nothing too crazy
xoxo, juno. no worries your english is perfectly fine!! i saw your comment but i’ve been busy so i’m sorry this took a while 🥲 thank you & sending you lots of love <3
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MIDORIYA IZUKU + a vibrator
“uhhh, what setting do you want it on?”
you giggle softly as izuku fumbles with the wand, eyes widening when it buzzes out of control once he mistakenly presses the highest setting. “how about you amp it up as we go, ‘zuku?”
he’s flushed down to his neck as his thumb rubs reassuring circles into your thigh, wand moving closer to your cunt. the head settles onto your clit and izuku pushes two fingers inside of you, which you adjust to with a hushed exhale.
“‘s good,” you nod, laying back onto the pillows as heat settles in your lower stomach.
“i’d hope so,” izuku chuckles nervously, curling his fingers inside you and prodding against your g-spot while the vibrations against your clit get barely stronger. “is this okay?”
“hm, yeah,” you huff, wiggling your hips as your hand comes to rest on top of his. he watches as you push the vibrator harder against you, gesturing to the buttons. “do it like you mean it, ‘zuku.”
“are you sure?” he’s painstakingly awkward when it comes to trying something new, having never used a vibrator before or watched you use it. you’d been working together to clear out your nightstands when he came across the pink wand, questioning what it was until you told him and asked him if he’d like to try it out on you.
“of course i am,” you wink, hand slipping away from his and relinquishing control. carefully, izuku presses the button, turning it up and increasing the power of the vibrations against your clit.
the new, welcomed change in stimulation pulls delicious moans from your lips, and his cock eagerly twitches in his pants. with this, he could easily have you sobbing and begging for more. what if he paired this toy with his cock sometime?
the simple thought has him creating an entire scenario in his head, unconsciously amping it up a few settings.
“fuck!” you exclaim, back arching right off the bed as you buck closer to him. “i-izuku, that’s perfect.”
“yeah? feeling close at all?” he hums, voice lilting into a curious, innocent tone. the setting is changed again, buzzing growing louder as your clit swells beneath the head of the toy.
“n-now i am,” it’s so much stimulation and the continuous, random changes of the settings make it so that you can’t catch your breath. just seeing you spread out for him on the bed has izuku’s eyes widening and growing teary as he thinks of how far this could go.
“already, huh?” izuku finds his confidence growing, a large palm coming down roughly against your ass. “know what, baby?”
he flicks his thumb against the button and the change has your eyes rolling back into your skull. some kind of noise comes from your parted, spit slicked lips in place of your voice.
“how about,” his eyes rise to connect with yours, gleaming with something filthy. “you don’t cum till i tell you to? is that alright, baby?”
KAMINARI DENKI & SERO HANTA + threesome
“so, about that bet..” a smug little smile has denki’s lips curling, and hanta’s eyes rolling in aggravation.
“seriously, dude? you wanna ask right now?”
“shut up, there’s no rule against it,” the blonde replies petulantly, sticking his tongue out and still fucking into you, maintaining his brutal pace with long, languid strokes. “so? we’re dying to know.”
you shudder, gagging on hanta’s cock as denki pulls you back onto his own, asscheeks slapping against his thighs.
“i don’t think she can answer you, idiot.” hanta bites back a moan, scoffing towards his best friend instead. denki’s shameless, moaning in between each word he says to either you or hanta.
“feelin’ good, baby?” his jaw clenches at the sight of hanta’s hand on your head, urging you to take his cock deeper into your throat.
the whole reason you’d even gotten into this situation was because the three of you found out you were all fucking one another on the down low. then questions were flying through the air like arrows, each of them hounding you about who you thought fucked better. i don’t know, you’d said, let’s all find out.
drool races down hanta’s balls as you choke on his length, which tenses and thickens on your tongue. “shit, i’m gonna cum,” he gasps, hanging his head and looking down at you with stars in his eyes. “w-will you swallow it all for me?”
“you’re losing for sure, couldn’t even last more than three minutes,” denki laughs, interrupting hanta’s moment of bliss with his stupidity. thankfully, he’s ignored, and hanta pretends he’s not even there, allowing himself to cum down your throat with a groan. he’s forced to steady himself by planting his hands on your back, already beginning to shake as your throat contracts around him.
“real greedy, huh?” he gasps, his voice raspy.
despite all his talk, denki follows suit, desperately rubbing at your clit so you’ll cum with him. thankfully, hanta pulls back to watch, fingers stroking over the taut muscles of your shoulders.
“fuck fuck fuck,” denki sobs, beads of sweat racing down his nose as he feels his body grow hotter. “b-baby, gonna cum inside you—”
your back arches, body nearly collapsing onto the bed. “i’m cumming too,” you manage, swallowing as tears fall from your eyes. your last demand is simple before you fall forward into the duvet. “d-denki, fuck me through it, please..”
hanta’s already hard just from your voices, slowly stroking his cock while denki pushes himself halfway in and lets go with a choked groan. cum spurts into you, and he pulls out quickly, watching as it pours from your sloppy cunt.
“well. i’m ready for another round.” hanta’s voice is playful but you and denki are exhausted, collapsing on one another with heaving sighs.
“dude, read the room,” denki huffs, wiping the sweat from your forehead and offering you a bottle of water.
“oh, you cannot be talking,” hanta snaps, fully naked and jumping up in astonishment. “i recall saying the exact thing when you were—”
they start arguing, and you just turn over and pray you fall asleep. even when they realize you’re trying to sleep, they go back and forth about waking you up.
SHINSOU HITOSHI + facesitting & squirting
“come here, now.”
“are you really sure? i can always just lay on my back like usual, i really don’t want to hurt you.”
hitoshi scoffs, impatiently waving you over with a bored huff. “i promise you won’t. sit down and stop worrying, baby.”
you balk at his lightly demanding tone, crawling across the bed and biting your lip as you position your thighs on either side of his head. still, you’re hesitant — it’s obvious in the way you’re hovering above his face.
“my tongue won’t be able to reach your clit,” hitoshi says bluntly, unimpressed with your nervousness. what are you so afraid of? you’ve been together for so long, you should know by now that he’d be happy to go out between your thighs. air simply doesn’t matter when your pleasure’s on the line.
a whimper slips past your lips and you lower yourself carefully, clit bumping into the tip of his nose. “is this good enough, toshi?”
“mhm,” comes his voice from below you; he’s entranced by the sight of your soaked pussy, practically dripping, all from a few well placed kisses along your body. “relax and enjoy it, okay? i want this—i want to taste you.”
“o-okay,” you huff out, and hitoshi rests a large hand on your asscheek. if he spanks you, you might lose your balance and crush him.
“don’t be afraid to make a mess for me, baby,” his last words are no louder than a whisper, and he gives your clit an experimental lick. his tongue is silky, sticky with the saliva that’s been pooling in his mouth at the thought of tasting you.
“again,” the command rushes past your lips before you can stop it. “lick my clit again.”
hitoshi’s hand comes down hard against your asscheek, and you waver above him; he notices your pointless resistance to sit fully. how cute, you’re that concerned for his ability to breathe.
“where are those manners, baby? as far as i’m concerned, you haven’t the liberty to ask for anything without fully sitting down.”
oh, so he’s trying to force you to take a seat.
but you shut up, lowering yourself down further, and hitoshi lets out a moan of approval, licking up your sticky pussy. glossy strings of slick gather on his tongue, and your taste is truly so addictive that he can’t help but rush in for more without taking a moment to breathe.
“oh, hitoshi,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. he’s pushed two fingers inside of you without any hesitation, filling you up and stretching you out deliciously. the initial sting before the rush of pleasure is a feeling that makes your head spin.
“mmm,” hitoshi groans deeply against your cunt, nose pushing into your clit as he speaks. “put your hand on your lower stomach for me.”
without asking questions, you do as he says, placing a hand right above your pelvic bone. his hand moves from your ass and comes down on top of yours, pushing it down into the soft skin.
“good girl,” hitoshi huffs out, lavishing your clit with attention from his tongue, curling his fingers inside you while also pressing your hand into your lower stomach. a new pressure builds inside you, white hot and only making your pussy even wetter.
what is this?
hitoshi feels the telltale signs of your approaching orgasm without needing a warning; your walls squeeze his fingers so hard they’re almost pushed out, muscles in your thighs tensing on either side of his head. “it’s coming, ‘s coming,” is all you can sob out to describe the unfamiliar feeling that’s taken place inside your body, “hitoshi, it’s gonna—”
oh, the way you say his name is something he’ll always commit to memory no matter how many times he’s heard it. your voice is frantic as you give in to the pleasure, sitting all the way down on his face and then grinding on it. this is what he was after the whole time—he wanted you to use him to get off, take the lead so he’d have no choice but to follow.
“hitoshi,” is all you can sob out, voice breaking into teary moans as you succumb to pleasure. out of control, your pussy gushes waterfalls of liquid onto his face, into his mouth, all over his skin.
even as you’re riding out the high on his face, hitoshi’s sure to help you through it, tonguing at your sensitive cunt and drinking in everything you’re giving him. “it’s t-too much, i can’t take it,” and you try to move off him, but he easily prevents you, taking your clit between his lips and sucking tightly.
the action pulls a pitched whine from you as you realize you cannot move away and catch a break from the intense pleasure.
“toshi—”
“that was fucking perfect,” he grunts against you, licking your mess off his lips eagerly. “i want you to do that again for me.”
“what was that?” you muster, lifting up with a gasp. your pussy made quite the mess — covering his entire face with shimmery slick and other juices.
“you squirted, baby,” hitoshi says simply, “and you’ll get more familiar with it in just a moment.”
“what’s that mean?” nervousness lines your words.
“you’ll get more acquainted with what it is after some practice. it’s better to learn sooner rather than later, hm?”
TAKAMI KEIGO + filming & orgasm denial
“hehe, is it on, kei?”
“shhh! it’s been on, babe.”
you suppress a cute laugh, looking back to the phone propped up on the dresser. from a distance, you see your reflection — you’re on your belly, between keigo’s thighs, face to face with his hard cock. you’d been going back and forth about when he’d go away on missions, how you both needed something better than your imaginations while you were apart.
keigo wiggles his hips, pushing close to you impatiently. you roll your eyes, making a show of leaning forward and taking him in inch by inch, until you’re gagging at his base.
“jesus, fuck—!” his back lurches off the bed and he laughs awkwardly at how quickly he’s reacting, but it dissolves into a groan almost immediately.
his fingers lightly ghost the sides of your face as he looks at you adoringly, “you’re beautiful when you’re sucking me off like this.”
you hum appreciatively, the vibrations resonating through his entire lower body and pulling a gasp from his throat. he wants to say more, but he doesn’t want to have to hear his own voice every second when he’s jerking off in the future.
just the thought of jerking off in the future makes a fantasy play like a video behind his eyes — you, fingering yourself to his moans and gasps of pleasure. how would your nimble fingers toy with your clit in place of his own? would you cry out his name as you cum, tears streaking down your face from the intensity of the stimulation? at the same moment, would he be thousands of miles away doing the exact same thing?
“s-shit, baby,” keigo stutters out a curse, his thighs trembling beneath your fingers, nails pressing into his skin to keep steady. “i’m gonna cum soon.”
his words spur you on, and you take him deeper, increasing your pace. the squelching sound of his cock stroking into your throat grows louder, filling the air. that video is about to become the most valuable file on his phone.
the desperation hangs off every word of his, sending a bolt of pleasure right between your legs. there’s a delicious tension in the air between you, and he’s raring to relieve it, hurtling closer to his orgasm by the millisecond.
one of the biggest pro heroes in japan has been reduced to a shaking mess by your touch; keigo’s wings flap violently, kicking up stray vermillion feathers and messing up the blankets. his voice breaks as you pull your head back, then take him deep into your throat. “i-i’m gonna cum— dove, swallow it all,” with two fingers, you tightly squeeze his base and pull off his cock with a pop.
“what are you—? why did you do that?” this denial is so frustrating that he feels a pathetic lump in his throat and tears pricking the corners of his eyes. he was so close to his euphoric high, only for you to rip it away.
“not yet,” is your calm answer as your free hand pushes his jolting hips down. “soon enough, keigo. let’s have some fun before you cum.”
his wings are trembling, quivering from the force in which his almost orgasm was ripped from his grasp. usually, he’d be annoyed, but this is so devastating and he can’t place why. he tries to nudge your head so you’ll suck him off to completion.
“i’m in control now,” you say into his skin, peppering featherlight kisses along his shaking thighs. you look back at the still recording phone on the dresser, and your lips split into a grin. “kei, it’ll be alright. just a few more times and you’ll be cumming in my mouth.”
he can’t help but feel like there’s dishonesty behind those singsongy words, and nods trustingly. “make me cum for real this time, baby.”
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luvsupa · 2 months ago
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thinking of sukuna with long hair that was always kept neatly done by you. he always had you, his wife, take care of his luscious locks, convinced that your hands held a special magic—each stroke a soothing spell that kept his hair fresh and hydrated. you step into your shared estate after being busy the entire day as you saw him in the pool. the warm steam from the pool enveloped the room like a comforting embrace. sukuna lounges in the steaming pool, his long, beautiful pink hair cascading like a shimmering waterfall around him.
“my little dove, i’ve been missing you all day,” he purred, his voice low and inviting. water droplets glistened on his sculpted chest, accentuating his striking features. the damp strands of his hair, darker at the roots and slicked back, framed his face perfectly. you stood at the doorway, essential oils and combs in hand, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you admired his needy expression.
“i bet you have, handsome. i was busy helping the new children in the village,” you replied, stepping closer. with every movement, his gaze followed you, filled with admiration and longing. as you placed the hair products beside him, excitement sparked in his eyes. he loved how you cared for him; your touch alone could coax soft purrs from deep within him.
the bubbling water created a soothing backdrop as you opened the oils and cream, their fragrant scents filling the air. you gently gathered his long, silky hair, running your fingers through the soft strands, feeling their warmth against your skin. as you began brushing from the roots down to the ends, he leaned back into your touch, a needy moan escaping his lips.
“mmm, you’d be an amazing mother—how do two little brats sound?” he hummed, eyes fluttering shut, surrendering to the bliss of your magic hands. each stroke of the brush glided effortlessly through his hair, releasing the tension coiled in his body, while you worked your fingers through his locs with loving precision. his purring grew louder with every gentle tug, a deep rumble that reverberated in his chest, echoing his desire for more.
“i would love that suku,”your heart swelled with affection as you realized how deeply he cherished these moments. switching to the oils, you rose onto your knees, positioning yourself for a better angle. you began massaging the warm oil into his scalp, your fingers working in slow, deliberate circles. the moment your fingers made contact, he let out a low, needy purr that made your heart race.
“more,” he whispered, his voice thick with longing, eyes still closed as he leaned into your touch, craving your warmth. the soft sound of his neediness made you smile, fueling your desire to pamper him even more.
after thoroughly working the oils into his hair, you applied the moisturizing cream, your fingers gliding through his strands with expert care. he let out soft whines as you brushed through the final strands, and you could feel his reluctance to let go of this intimate connection.
“don’t stop,” he murmured, desperation creeping into his tone.
“keep playing with my hair until i sleep, my love.”
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fatecantstopme · 2 months ago
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Lustful Agony
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x plus size!reader
Summary: It's sex pollen, aka my favorite trope.
Warnings: cursing, use of pet names, an insane amount of smut, dubcon (cuz sex pollen), unprotected sex (p in v), oral (F receiving), masturbation (F).
"Would you please be careful?" you snapped.
Your partner froze and offered you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, doc. I wasn't paying attention."
"I noticed," you huffed. "There are any number of things in here that could kill us, so tread lightly."
"Maybe I should wait here."
You glanced in his direction and nodded. "You know what? Good idea. Stay there and don't touch anything."
You continued on through the dusty lab, hoping to find at least one working computer, but after 20 minutes, it seemed hopeless. Every computer had been destroyed and most of the paper files had been shredded or burned. All that remained was hundreds of glass vials filled with various liquids and gases that did gods-only-knew what.
"I'm starting to think this might be a burn and run," you called back to Bucky--still standing where you'd left him on the other side of the lab.
"If we blow this place, is there gonna be a toxic cloud?"
You shot an annoyed look in his direction. "I said 'burn', James, not 'blow'. We're not blowing up a lab filled with unknown chemicals and biological agents."
"Right, yeah." He looked at the ground, feeling slightly embarrassed. He always seemed to make a fool of himself in front of you and he hated it. He never wanted to be the fool, especially around you.
Your well-trained eyes scanned the room again before falling on a secured biological containment chamber. You knew that would be the best option for storing items for burning. All you'd need to do was get all the bio vials into the chamber and light it up.
You crossed the room to the chamber, feeling Bucky's eyes following you. He hated being in a position where he felt like he couldn't protect you, but he was out of his element here. As the resident hazardous materials expert, this was your area of brilliance.
You grumbled in annoyance when you noticed the lock on the containment chamber was activated. You were familiar with this particular model, and if you were lucky, these Hydra assholes hadn't been smart enough to bother changing the code. You input the pin, silently crossing your fingers, a smile spreading across your face when you heard the distinct sound of the mechanism unlocking.
You lifted the hood slowly, hoping to find the chamber empty. You had a momentary thought that you and Bucky should be wearing appropriate PPE, but the thought occurred to you too late.
A sound of surprise escaped your lips as a puff of sweet-smelling pink dust blew into your face from inside the cabinet. The tactical suit and gloves you were wearing did nothing to protect your respiratory system from the unknown substance.
The dust seemed to dissolve almost instantly, fading into nothingness before you could even alert Bucky to the hazard. He, of course, had heard your surprised gasp, thanks to his super soldier hearing.
"Doc? Everything okay?" he called worriedly.
"Not sure," you replied. "I, uh, I got hit in the face with some pink dust...and I'm willing to bet it's not fairy dust."
Bucky's blood ran cold. "Pink dust?"
"Yeah, smelled like some kind of super sweet candy--or those sugary wine coolers I drank in college."
Any color that remained in Bucky's face quickly drained. "Look at me."
His tone was so firm, it frightened you. Bucky normally joked around with you, but you could hear the fear in his voice and it scared you more than anything else.
You turned to face him and his expression confirmed your fears. "Do you know what it is?"
Bucky nodded. "I think so, but we won't know for sure for at least 30 minutes, possibly longer."
"Am I going to die?" your voice was so soft--so small--that even he almost didn't hear it.
"Not if I can help it."
When your eyes met his piercing blue orbs, he could see the terror reflected in them. He wanted to go to you, help you, but he knew he couldn't--not if you still had even the slightest trace of the dust on you.
"You need to rinse off before we get out of here," Bucky said calmly. "If it's what I think it is, then I can't get that stuff anywhere near me."
"Why? What'll happen?"
Bucky's gaze didn't quite meet yours. "I will tear you apart and not even realize it."
His words cut you like a knife. You knew deep in your soul Bucky would never hurt you, but if this substance could turn him into a wild animal, you wondered what the hell it was going to do to you.
You'd spotted a decontamination area when you'd first entered the lab, so you slowly made your way there, careful to avoid getting anywhere near Bucky.
Bucky radioed in to Sam to give him an update on the situation. You heard him describing what had happened and asking for another team to be sent in to destroy the facility.
You stood under the spray of the shower head and let the water pummel your skin. The pressure was almost painful, but you knew it was necessary to ensure the substance was no longer on your skin. You'd inhaled it, so you were screwed, but there was no reason for Bucky to be too.
After several minutes, you felt comfortable saying you were clean. You just wanted to get the hell out of this lab and back home.
You voiced as much to Bucky, but he shook his head slowly. "You're not gonna make it all the way home, (Y/N)."
You didn't like Bucky's use of your first name in this context...he always called you 'doc', and the change made you feel like death was around the corner.
Your face must have given away your fear because he continued. "I just mean you won't make it home before the symptoms start. Once they do, you won't want to be around anyone."
"So what do we do?"
"Safe house. It's our only option."
You groaned inwardly. You had zero desire to stay in that drafty little cabin another night, but you trusted Bucky's instincts, so you simply nodded.
Bucky was quick to usher you back to the quinjet, filling you in on his conversation with Sam. "He'll send in another team in full Level A hazmat gear. They'll take care of the place."
"Okay."
"You alright, doc? How you feelin'?"
"I feel fine so far. Just moderately terrified."
"Don't be. You're gonna be fine."
You wanted to believe him--really you did--but there was something in his voice that made you question if he even believed it.
By the time the jet touched down by the cabin, 25 minutes had passed since the moment of infection. Bucky still hadn't told you what you were dealing with and it was driving you insane.
You followed Bucky into the cabin and watched him drop his bag on the floor. He turned to look at you, eyes clearly sizing you up, checking to see if you were okay.
"Just tell me," you whispered--somewhere between a plea and a demand.
He sighed deeply. "How do you feel?"
You closed your eyes and took mental stock of your body, seeking anything out of the ordinary. "I feel hot, but that could just be the anxiety."
"How hot?"
"I don't know, like feverish, I guess."
Bucky groaned and the sound sent a wave of need through your body--a need that shocked you to your very core. This was absolutely not the time for your stupid crush to rear its head.
"Please don't hit me, okay? I'm just gonna touch your hand."
"Why would I hit you?" you asked a second before his flesh hand met yours. The feeling was pleasant and it warmed you from the inside out, until he removed his hand. You inhaled sharply as an intense pain you couldn't describe shot through you.
Bucky jerked his hand away, his worst fears confirmed. "I know what it is."
"Please," you whimpered.
"It's a biological agent Hydra developed when their attempts to make a useable super soldier serum failed. It was designed to induce a euphoric sexual state that would result in agony and possible death if penetrative sex was not performed and an orgasm was not achieved."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Hydra believed they could create super soldiers the old fashion way--by breeding them. Sprinkle some of the magic dust on a super soldier and he'd fuck his way through a room full of women without a single care for their well-being. They called it 'sex pollen'."
Your breathing was labored as pain began to spread through your body. You tried desperately to ignore it and focus on Bucky's words. "What happened?"
Bucky couldn't look at you as he responded softly, "None of the women survived the mating process."
You realized now what he'd meant back at the lab. You didn't really want to know, but you found yourself asking the question anyway, "Did they do it to you?"
Bucky closed his eyes, desperately trying to push the dark memories back down. "Yeah. They did."
"I'm sorry," you whispered.
Bucky shook his head, banishing the memories. "It doesn't matter. What matters now is how we handle this."
"If the sex pollen had that kind of effect on a super soldier, what's it gonna do to me?"
"I imagine it's going to be significantly worse for you if you don't...umm--if you don't reach climax."
"So I have to orgasm? Seriously?"
"I wish it were that simple."
Before you could respond, you doubled over in pain, an agonized groan escaping your parted lips.
Bucky rushed to you without thinking and laid his hands on your arms. You let out a pained whine and he pulled away, suddenly remembering what was happening.
"It feels like my skin is on fire," you cried.
"I know, doll. I know."
It was killing Bucky not to be able to help you. He was your protector in every situation, but he couldn't protect you from this. He knew exactly what kind of hell you were in for and it nearly broke him.
The waves of pain subsided and you were able to pull yourself upright. "Well this is fun," you mumbled.
"It's gonna get worse, (Y/N). Much, much worse."
"That's comforting, Buck. Thank you."
He gave you a sad look. "You can't do this alone."
"What do you mean?"
"The pollen was designed to force the creation of life...the only way to alleviate the pain is to give the pollen what it wants."
Your brain had become too muddled to understand what he was saying. "Plain English, Buck. Please."
"You, uh, you have to have sex."
"So you're saying I can't just masturbate this away?"
Bucky shook his head. "You have to have sex and your partner has to umm--ejaculate inside you."
Another wave of pain raked its claws through your skin, but you managed to stay upright this time. "What happens if I don't?"
You saw the look of sadness on Bucky's face and you knew you wouldn't like his answer. "You'll die."
"Well, fuck." You winced, reaching out to grab the back of the couch for stability. The pain was only increasing and you knew it was a matter of time before you couldn't take it any longer. "How sure are you that I'll die?"
"I mean, I don't know any regular humans that survived contact with the pollen. They were used as test subjects during its creation."
"I swear, Hydra gets more disgusting every time I learn something new."
Bucky was dying to help you. Seeing you in pain was agonizing for him and he knew his pain paled in comparison to yours. He would do anything for you--all you need do was ask.
"I'm gonna try waiting it out," you said firmly.
"What?" Bucky said, shock evident in his tone.
"I'm sure as hell not gonna force you to fuck me, Bucky. So I'm gonna wait it out."
"(Y/N), you're not forcing me to do anything. I'm offering to help. I don't want you to die."
You shook your head. "I'd rather die than force you into this."
"I'm offering--"
"Don't," you snapped. "No matter what you say, I'm going to feel like I'm forcing you to do something and I can't deal with that. So please, let me try to handle this alone."
Bucky knew for a fact he could overpower you with ease, especially when you were in such a state. He could make the pain stop and you would be glad for it in the moment. But he couldn't do it. He would never ever hurt you like that, even if it meant watching you die. It just wasn't something he was capable of.
"Okay, doll."
You could tell he didn't want to agree, but you were glad he wasn't arguing. All you wanted to do was tear your clothes off and try to find some sort of relief. The fire burning under your skin was intensifying by the second.
"I'm gonna take a cold shower and lock myself in the bedroom. Please stay out here."
Bucky simply nodded. He wanted to sit on this couch and listen to the sounds of your pain about as much as he wanted to get shot in the face. But he respected you too much to ignore your wishes.
You dragged yourself into the bathroom and stripped down to nothing before climbing into the cold shower. The frigid water seemed to help at first, but you discovered the effects were short-lived.
You leaned your head against the cold tile and let out a pained sob. You wanted the pain to stop so badly, but you didn't want to involve Bucky. You couldn't. Bucky was your closest friend and partner. His was the relationship you valued most in life and you wouldn't risk it for anything. It didn't matter you were in love with him. It didn't matter you'd wanted him from the moment you'd laid eyes on him. What mattered is you knew he didn't feel the same.
Bucky had a new girl in his bed several times a week. You were pretty sure you'd never seen the same girl twice in the three years you'd known him. Each one was a tall, blonde, model-thin, gorgeous woman. You didn't check a single one of those boxes. You didn't think Bucky was shallow, he just had a type. He was one of the hottest men you'd ever seen, so it only made sense for him to be with the hottest women.
You didn't think you were ugly, by any means. You just weren't his type. You were shorter, very curvy, girl-next-door average. You'd accepted it long ago and vowed to never tell him how you felt for fear of jeopardizing your friendship. Your current situation was as close as you could get to your biggest fear and you weren't willing to risk it. You loved him too much to lose him entirely. Even if he insisted he was willing to help, you knew he would come to regret it. Things would be awkward between you and eventually your friendship would come to an end.
"Not worth the risk," you muttered to yourself.
The cooling effects of the shower had long since worn off, so you turned off the water and grabbed a towel. As you wrapped it around your body, you found it was too small to cover everything and the scratchy material was painful against your overly sensitive skin.
You dropped the towel to the ground and opened the door a crack. "Bucky?"
"Yeah, doll?"
"Um, the towel hurts my skin, so um...please don't look while I walk to the bedroom."
Bucky inhaled deeply, calming himself. Sure, he wasn't impacted by the pollen, but the fact that your naked body was a few feet away from him certainly did.
"I'll close my eyes."
You tentatively opened the door and peeked out. You could see Bucky sitting on the couch, eyes closed as promised. You quickly rushed from the bathroom to the open bedroom door, shutting it behind you. In your haste to get out of sight, you neglected to lock the door.
You nearly collapsed onto the bed, the need to feel some relief the only thing on your mind. Normally, you would have been embarrassed to even consider touching yourself when Bucky was so close by, but this was an extreme circumstance. You mentally told yourself you needed to be quiet at the very least, given his excellent hearing.
You tried to get as comfortable as you could, but it was impossible. The only parts of your body that didn't ache were the ones you were actively touching. You slipped your dominant hand between your legs and felt another wave of embarrassment hit when you felt just how wet you were.
The moment your fingers brushed between your folds, you let out a loud moan. You slapped your hand across your mouth and hoped Bucky mistook the sound for one of pain.
Bucky was breathing heavily as he sat on the couch less than 10 feet from the bedroom door. He could hear every tiny little sound you made, even as you desperately tried to stay quiet.
He knew he shouldn't be turned on by those sounds--not when you were experiencing something so awful--but he couldn't help it. He'd dreamed of hearing you moan for him a hundred times before. It took all his will-power to not bust down that door and give you what you needed.
You let out a particularly obscene moan and Bucky had to stifle his own. His cock strained against his pants and he hated himself for being turned on. He tried to tell himself it wasn't his fault--he'd wanted you for years--but he couldn't shake the feeling of shame.
Ten minutes went by and the sounds coming from the bedroom continued. Bucky gripped the back of the couch with all his strength, determined to not give himself even a modicum of pleasure from this.
Another five minutes passed and he heard you let out a pained sob. His heart skipped a beat and he listened closely for any more noise. He heard the distinct sounds of you crying and his resolve broke. He immediately went to your door and knocked.
"Doll? You okay?"
"It hurts so much," you whimpered.
He leaned his forehead against the door. "I know, sweetheart. Please let me help you. Please."
He could hear you writhing around on the bed, whimpers of pain reaching his ears and making him tear up.
"I can't--it didn't work," you cried. "I'm so hot--it hurts."
"Please, baby," Bucky begged. He placed his hand on the doorknob, dying to turn it and get to you.
"Bucky," you whimpered.
The pain in that one simple word made his decision for him. He turned the knob and was surprised to find the door unlocked. He opened the door a crack, but kept his eyes away from the bed.
"Let me help you," he pleaded again.
Your eyes roamed his gorgeous figure and you let out a choked sob. Nothing else mattered in that moment--all you could think about was him.
"Make it stop," you begged him.
Bucky's eyes snapped open, meeting yours in a desperately hungry look. He didn't say a word, didn't even allow his brain to process the deeper meaning of what he was about to do. You'd asked him to help you--to stop the pain--so that was exactly what he was going to do.
He stripped out of his tactical suit as fast as possible, leaving himself in his boxer briefs, cock straining to be set free.
You reached out a hand to him and he went to you without a thought. He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you as his eyes scanned your face.
"Are you sure about this, doll?" he asked softly.
"I need you," you whimpered back.
Those three little words shattered the sliver of resolve he'd had left. His lips met yours in a hungry, devouring kiss--all teeth and tongue. His hands latched onto your soft curves, touching every inch of skin he could reach.
Everywhere he touched felt like ice against your burning skin. The sensation both incredible and painful all at once. Whatever bit of shyness or insecurity you had was wiped away by the sheer intensity of it all.
Bucky's lips attacked your neck, your jaw, your collarbone--nipping and sucking bruising marks into your skin. While it felt good, it wasn't nearly enough.
"Need more."
Bucky nudged his knee between your legs to spread them wider for him. "I know, baby. I know."
He quickly descended down to your aching core, blowing hot air against it in a teasing manner. You whined and scratched at his scalp, reminding him this was not the time for teasing.
He flicked his tongue between your pussy lips, seeking out your clit immediately. The second his tongue brushed against it, you cried out in pleasure--the first real feeling of relief you'd had since you'd been infected.
Bucky smiled to himself as he settled in to properly feast on your pussy, reveling in the essence of you against his tongue, invading all of his senses.
You gripped his hair in one hand and the sheet in the other, gyrating wildly as Bucky ate you with abandon. The pleasure was blinding, but you could still feel the undercurrent of raging fire flowing through your veins.
Bucky seemed to instinctively know exactly what you enjoyed, following your body like he had a roadmap to your pleasure points. He sent you over the edge with ease three times before finally coming up for air.
You reached for him, still hungry for more. "Bucky."
"I'm here, baby." He kissed you deeply, hands gripping your hips tightly. He wanted to take his time with you, but he knew he couldn't--you needed more from him and you needed it now.
He was quick to discard his underwear before lining himself up with your entrance. His cock nudged against your aching hole and you both moaned.
"Please, please, please, please..." you begged.
Bucky knew what you needed and he wasted no time sheathing himself inside of you. You cried out in pain as his cock stretched you more than you'd ever experienced before. The pain quickly subsided into pleasure and the pollen seemed to sense its purpose was near.
You felt a surge of need and you begged him to fuck you. "I need it, please, Bucky."
"I've got you, sweetheart." He began to thrust gently, trying his best not to hurt you. The sensations began to overwhelm him as much as they were overwhelming you, prompting him to move faster--losing himself in the feeling of you.
"Fuck, baby. You take my cock so well."
Your pussy fluttered in response, a soft whine escaping your lips.
"Best pussy I've ever had. So tight and wet for me. Made for me, weren't you?"
You nodded rapidly, not really registering what he was saying.
"How many times you think I can make you cum, baby? Six? Seven? Think the pollen can get you there?"
Your eyes widened at his words. Unsure if that was possible even with pollen.
Bucky grinned down at you. "I think I can get seven. Bet this pussy will give me whatever I want, won't she? Gonna make my girl scream my name all night long."
You felt the coil in your belly snap as another orgasm rushed through you. You clung to Bucky, a string of profanity spilling past your lips.
Bucky didn't let you come down from it before pushing your body towards another orgasm. He wanted to feel you gripping his cock like this as long as possible--especially since he might never feel it again.
"Baby, you feel so good," he murmured, placing soft kisses to your face. "Love the way you're squeezing me."
"Feels so good, Bucky," you moaned.
"Fuck, been wanting to hear you say that for so long. Needed to be inside this tight little pussy so badly. It's better than I ever imagined."
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wanted to ask what he meant--if he'd really imagined it, but you were too far gone to articulate a coherent thought.
As another orgasm crashed into you, you momentarily wondered if it was possible to die from overwhelming pleasure. You'd been in so much pain for so long and the sudden change to blinding pleasure was incredible. It was unlike anything you'd ever experienced.
"How many more can you give me, sweetheart?"
"Wanfeelcum," you mumbled incoherently.
"What was that, baby? Too fucked out to speak?"
"Wanna feel you cum, Bucky," you begged.
He was already so close to the edge he nearly lost control at the sound of your voice. But if he was being honest with himself, he didn't want this to end. He was scared if he came, if he gave you what you needed, then you'd be satiated and it would all be over.
"Need to feel you cum on my cock at least one more time, baby."
You whimpered, but nodded your consent.
Bucky picked up the pace, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. You weren't sure whether it was the pollen or his skill, but you went flying over the edge of blinding pleasure with an intensity you'd never experienced. You screamed his name as the waves crashed over you, pussy gushing juices as you squirted all over his cock and abdomen.
"Fuck yeah, baby. So fucking sexy..." he murmured. "Gonna fill you up. Give you what you want."
"Want your cum," you begged.
"That's right, pretty girl. Gonna give you my cum. Fill up this sweet pussy till you're stuffed."
"Yes, Bucky! Please!"
Bucky's hips stuttered as he came, filling your pussy with ropes of warm cum. Bucky kept thrusting slowly as he whispered your name into your skin over and over like a prayer.
Slowly, the haze created by the sex pollen began to fade, leaving you completely blissed out. Awareness of what you'd done began to creep in, but the feel of Bucky's weight on top of you kept you in the moment.
He finally slowed to a halt, but his lips were still pressing into your hot skin. After several more moments, he raised himself up just enough to kiss you sweetly, making sure you felt his adoration.
The moment he rolled off you, the full weight of what you'd done hit you like a ton of bricks. If your body would have cooperated, you would have turned over onto your side, curled up in a ball, and cried.
Bucky felt the sudden shift in your demeanor and he felt his heart clench in his chest. "(Y/N/N)..."
"I'm sorry," you whispered.
Surprise lit up his face. "What?"
"I shouldn't have done that--I'm so sorry."
"I'm gonna stop you right there." He sat up a little so he could look down at your face. You wouldn't meet his gaze, but he continued anyway. "Don't you dare think for a single second that I did something I didn't want to do. You were in pain and I couldn't let that stand. I would do anything for you, (Y/N). Anything. I don't regret it and I'd do it again in a heartbeat."
Your eyes finally raised to meet his and you saw nothing but honesty in his gaze. You knew he cared about you, but you were still worried you'd crossed a line neither of you could come back from.
Bucky stared at your face, taking in just how incredibly beautiful you were. He was trying to commit it to memory--never wanting to forget any bit of it.
"Thank you," you whispered.
Bucky shook his head. "You don't have to thank me, doll. Like I said, I wanted to." He paused for a moment, a silent war raging inside of him. He seemed to make a decision and once he did, the words just flowed from his mouth. "I mean it, (Y/N). I've wanted to for years--wanted you for years. I never wanted it to happen like this, but fuck baby...here we are. I would do anything you asked of me, okay? I'll rip my own heart out and light it on fire if you ask me to. So if you ask me to pretend this never happened, I will, but I need you to know I don't want to. I want to make love to you over and over again, hear you scream my name, watch your beautiful face as you fall apart for me...I want you. I will always want you."
You were completely breathless by the time he stopped talking. The words coming out of his mouth weren't what you'd ever expected to hear. "You want me?"
"I've always wanted you. Every part of you. Inside and out."
"What about all the other women?"
"What?"
"The ones you bring home all the time."
He touched your face gently, turning your head to look at him directly. "They're fine for a night, but they're not you. They were a poor substitute for the woman I really wanted, but couldn't have."
"Bucky..."
He looked a little crestfallen, mistaking your tone for rejection. "It's okay if you don't feel the same--"
Your hand gently pressed against his lips, shutting him up instantly. "If I could move properly, I would have kissed you to shut you up."
His eyes lit up and a small smile played on his lips.
"Of course I feel the same. Of course I want you. I only pushed you away tonight because I didn't want to lose you. I was afraid you would regret it."
He leaned down so he was inches away from your lips. "Oh sweetheart, I could never regret anything to do with you."
Your lips curled up in a sweet smile. "Really?"
"Mhmm."
"Buck?"
"Hmm?"
"Any chance we can make love? I wanna be in the moment...really in it."
"Right now?" he asked in surprise.
You nodded.
His lips met yours in a loving kiss. "I'm more than happy to oblige."
You grinned as he rolled back on top of you, lips pressing against yours hungrily.
"I'll make love to you as many times as you want. Whatever you want, I'll give you. Just ask."
"Anything?"
"Anything."
You smirked slowly. "Then I might have some ideas..."
"Oh really?"
"Oh yes." You pulled his face down to yours to whisper some of your inner desires into his ear.
"My god," he murmured. "You're gonna be the death of me."
You laughed lightly and he joined in before pulling you in for a passionate kiss, dead-set on giving you everything you wanted and more.
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anniebeemine · 3 months ago
Text
Vanilla- s.r. x fem!reader
warnings: big ego AND jealous spencer, spanking, unprotected sex, oral (femrecieving), cumplay
It started out as just another gathering with the team—a casual night out after a long case, everyone laughing and unwinding at a local bar. You sat beside Spencer, enjoying the rare opportunity to relax with him and his colleagues. The conversation was light and fun, bouncing from one topic to another, until it inevitably drifted into teasing against you and Spencer. It started out like usual, some quips about when he'd pop the question or when you'll pop out a few mini geniuses. Then it shifted into a few weeks ago when you came into work with a top that was lower cut than usual, shifting to show a deep purple love bite sometime during lunch with the girls.
Spencer flushed a deep red, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as the table burst into laughter. "Uh, well," he stammered, "that was… an unfortunate coincidence."
You shot him a sideways glance, raising an eyebrow. "Unfortunate? That was all you, Doctor Reid." You leaned into him playfully.
Penelope gasped in exaggerated shock, placing a hand over her heart. "Spencer Reid, you little devil! I never would have guessed you had it in you!"
Derek clapped Spencer on the back, nearly knocking him forward with the force of it. "Man, you’re full of surprises! Didn’t think you had it in you to leave a trail. Reid, you’re probably the most wholesome guy I know."
Emily, never one to pass up on a good-natured ribbing, smirked. “Yeah, I bet your idea of a wild night is reading a book until midnight.”
The table erupted in laughter, and Spencer, always a good sport, chuckled along. But you could see a flicker of something in his eyes—something that made your heart twist a little. You reached under the table, squeezing his hand gently, offering silent reassurance. He glanced at you, and the warmth of your touch seemed to ease some of the discomfort, his shoulders relaxing just a bit.
“You know, Reid’s probably the kind of guy who apologizes during sex,” Morgan added, his tone playful but with a teasing edge. “Always so polite, probably says ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ the whole time.”
Your cheeks flushed, and though you managed to keep your expression neutral, you felt a surge of protectiveness for Spencer. The image they were painting of him was so far from the truth that it almost made you want to correct them right then and there, tell them the truth of his tendencies. But you stayed quiet, your bedroom life with Spencer was private, something just for the two of you, and you had no desire to share those intimate details with anyone else—not even his closest friends.
Spencer laughed it off, making a self-deprecating joke to deflect the attention, but you could tell the teasing had gotten to him. He stayed quiet for the rest of the night, offering only the occasional smile or nod as the conversation continued around him.
When you finally got home, the silence between you was thick with unspoken tension. Spencer had been quiet the whole ride back, and as soon as you closed the front door behind you, you knew it was time to address it.
“Spencer,” you began softly, reaching out to touch his arm. “Are you okay? You’ve been really quiet since we left."
He turned to you, his expression conflicted, a mix of frustration and hurt. “It’s just… is that how they see me? As this meek, vanilla guy who can’t… who can’t be anything else?”
Your heart ached for him. “They don’t know you like I do, Spencer. They were just teasing. They don’t realize how far off they are.”
Spencer shook his head, pulling away slightly. “But you didn’t say anything. You just sat there and let them think… let them think I’m some kind of pushover.”
You sighed, understanding now where this was coming from. “Spencer, I didn’t say anything because I don’t think it’s anyone else’s business what happens between us. We agreed not to share that part of our relationship with them.”
“I know that,” he replied, his voice strained. “But it felt like you were agreeing with them by staying silent. Like you were okay with them seeing me that way.”
You stepped closer to him, reaching out to cup his face in your hands. “Spencer, listen to me. I don’t care what they think. I know who you are. I know how you make me feel, how you take care of me, how passionate and intense you can be. None of that needs to be proven to anyone else.” You caressed his cheekbones with your thumbs. “Besides, do you think you really want them to know how you have me bent over the back of the couch more often than not? How you have me counting out my punishments?”
His eyes softened, but there was still a lingering doubt. “But it just… it made me feel like they think I’m less of a man or something. Like I’m not enough.”
You shook your head firmly. “You are more than enough, Spencer. You’re everything I could ever want. What we have is special, and I don’t need to justify it to anyone else. They can think whatever they want, but at the end of the day, they don’t know the real you. I do.”
He looked at you, really looked at you, and you could see the tension slowly start to leave his body. He let out a long breath, his shoulders relaxing as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured into your hair. “I didn’t mean to take it out on you. It just… got under my skin.”
You hugged him tightly, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “I understand, Spencer. But remember, you’re incredible just the way you are. And I love you for it. All of it.”
Spencer nodded, the last of his frustration melting away as he held you. “Thank you. I love you too. And I’m sorry for doubting that.”
You smiled, leaning up to kiss him gently. “You don’t ever have to apologize for how you feel. But just know, I wouldn’t trade what we have for anything.”
With that, the tension between you finally broke, and the two of you spent the rest of the night curled up together, letting the world outside fade away as you focused on each other, knowing that what you shared was something far deeper and more meaningful than anyone else could ever understand.
+++
Spencer had never really been the jealous type, but he was angry. Since the night of teasing at the bar, he'd been on edge.
It gnawed at him in a way he hadn't expected, chipping away at his usual calm demeanor. Since that night, there had been a subtle shift in his behavior—small things that you noticed but didn’t immediately address, hoping it would pass. But now, standing in the bar waiting for your drink, it was clear that something had snapped.
You had been leaning against the counter, waiting patiently for your order, when a stranger approached. He was confident, with a cocky smile, and placed his hand lightly on the small of your back. “Hey there,” he said smoothly, “let me get that for you.” He motioned to the bartender, offering to pay for your drink.
Before you could politely decline, you felt a familiar presence behind you. Spencer’s hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, and before you could even process what was happening, he was pulling you away from the bar. His grip was gentle but insistent, his usual reserved demeanor replaced by something far more intense.
The stranger barely had time to react as Spencer led you out of the bar and into a dimly lit alley beside the building. The air was cooler outside, and the sudden change in environment only heightened the tension. Spencer didn’t say a word as he pressed you against the brick wall, his lips crashing onto yours with a force that took your breath away. There was no hesitation in his movements—his hands were everywhere, roaming over your body, pulling you flush against him as if he couldn’t stand the thought of any distance between you.
His kisses were fierce, demanding, and you responded in kind, matching his intensity with your own. It was as if all the unspoken emotions from the past few days had finally found an outlet, and Spencer was pouring everything into this moment. His usual restraint was gone, replaced by a raw, desperate need to claim you, to reassure himself of your connection.
You gasped into his mouth, fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, needing to feel him, to ground yourself in the whirlwind of his sudden possessiveness. His hands slid down to your hips, gripping them tightly as he pressed you harder against the wall, his body anchoring you in place.
“Spencer,” you whispered between kisses, your voice breathless. “Take me home."
His breath hitched at your words, a spark of something dangerous flaring in his eyes. Without a moment's hesitation, he pulled back slightly, his hand still firmly on your hip as he nodded, his voice low and filled with unspoken promise. "Let's go."
The walk back to your car was charged with anticipation, the quiet intensity between you almost palpable. Spencer’s hand remained on the small of your back, guiding you with a sense of urgency that sent shivers down your spine. The drive home was a blur, the silence between you thick with the weight of what was about to happen. Every glance he shot your way was laced with desire, his fingers drumming impatiently on the steering wheel as if he could barely contain himself.
As soon as you stepped through the door of your apartment, Spencer was on you, his lips crashing against yours with a fervor that stole your breath. He kicked the door shut behind you, his hands roaming your body, mapping out every inch of you as if he couldn’t get enough. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the raw need that had been building inside him finally finding release.
You barely made it to the bedroom, clothes discarded in a trail behind you, the air around you electric with anticipation. By the time you reached the bed, Spencer was a man possessed, his usual gentle touch replaced by something much more primal. He pushed you onto the bed, his body covering yours in an instant, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, his need for you almost overwhelming.
His hands were everywhere—gripping your thighs, your waist, your arms—as he kissed you deeply, his tongue sliding against yours in a way that made you moan into his mouth. He was relentless, his touch both commanding and desperate, as if he needed to prove to himself, and to you, that you were his.
“God please touch me, Spence. You’re the only person who could ever make me cum. I need your mouth on me baby, please.” He looks up at you through his lashes while he bites into your thigh, sucking so hard you know there’ll be a purple bruise tomorrow.  
Before you’ve prepared, he latches his mouth onto your pussy, laying his tongue flat against you and shaking his head back and forth. You scream out, taking a fistful of his curly hair into your hand and holding on for dear life as he licks and sucks feverishly. His saliva mixed with your arousal makes an absolute mess, dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. He pulls back for a moment and puts two fingers up to your mouth. “Open.” He orders and you oblige, opening and wrapping your tongue around his digits, moaning as you do. He watches you intensely and bites his lip as he imagines how you’d work him if you were sucking him off.
Once his fingers are wet, he pulls them out of your mouth and down to your core, circling a few times on your clit before pushing them into you completely. You let out a string of curse words as he curls them inside you, hitting your G-spot over and over again. Just when you thought it couldn’t feel any more intense, he reattaches his mouth to your hood, using his tongue to trace figure-eights. Your toes begin to curl as you feel the familiar knot in the pit of your stomach.
You shakily cry out his name, tugging his hair harder. The vibration from his moan brings you closer, a cry spilling from your lips. He doesn't stop, continuing his attack on your clit, his fingers picking up speed.
You wriggle and writhe beneath him, holding back cries. A second orgasm washes over you, voice taken as he finally sits back, hands running over your thighs soothingly.
"You know what I was thinking about the entire night?" He asked, undoing the buttons of his shirt.
"Tell me," you said through pants. "What were you thinking of?"
"How good your ass looked today."
You chuckled. "Really?"
Spencer's lips curled into a smirk as he nodded, his eyes darkening with that familiar hunger. "Really," he confirmed, his voice low and husky as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the toned chest beneath. "I couldn't stop thinking about it. Every time you walked by, every time you leaned over, it drove me crazy."
You felt a flush of heat spread through your body at his words, a mixture of surprise and excitement. "And what did you want to do about it?" you asked, your voice trembling with anticipation.
He shrugged off his shirt, tossing it aside before leaning back over you, his hands once again finding their place on your hips, gripping them possessively. "How badly I want to make them sting." His lips run over your collarbone, voice dropping. "I know you like it."
You whimper, nodding. "Then do it."
As you turn over, your breath catches in anticipation, your skin tingling with the promise of what’s to come. Spencer’s hands trail down your back, gentle at first, as if savoring the moment, before they grip your hips with that familiar possessiveness.
His voice is low, almost a growl, as he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. "You know I’m going to make you beg for it, don’t you?"
You shiver at his words, your body reacting instinctively to the mix of dominance and tenderness in his tone. "Please, Spencer," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. "I want it… I need it."
He lets out a low, satisfied hum, his hands sliding down to your ass, kneading the flesh before his fingers curl, and with a swift, calculated motion, he brings his hand down in a firm slap. The sharp sting spreads through you, igniting your nerves and drawing a gasp from your lips.
"How does that feel?" he asks, his voice dripping with control.
"Perfect," you manage to gasp out, the sting from his hand already sending ripples of pleasure through you.
His hand comes down again, harder this time, and you arch your back in response, biting your lip to hold back a cry. Each slap is deliberate, perfectly timed, and as the sensation builds, so does your desire. The pain is just enough to make you ache for more, to make you want to give in to everything he’s offering. Spencer’s hand continues its work, each strike sending a wave of heat and electricity through your body. Your breaths come out in ragged pants, and you can feel your entire being focused on the sensations he’s creating, on the way he’s drawing out your pleasure.
"Do you like it when I make you feel like this?" he asks, his voice husky and rough as his hand moves rhythmically against you.
"Yes," you breathe out, your voice almost desperate. "I love it… I love how you make me feel, Spencer."
"Good," he murmurs, his voice filled with satisfaction. He presses a kiss to the back of your neck before his hand delivers another firm slap, making your skin burn in the best possible way. "Because I love making you feel this way."
The stinging pleasure only heightens your need for him, and as his hand continues to bring you to the edge of what you can take, you know you’re utterly and completely his. The mix of pain and pleasure is intoxicating, and you’re lost in the sensation, in the way he’s controlling your body with such expert precision. When he finally stops, his hand soothing over your stinging skin, you can’t help but whimper at the loss, your body still thrumming with need. Spencer leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder as he murmurs against your skin, "You’re so beautiful like this. Do you want more?"
"Please," you gasp, barely able to form the words through the haze of desire that’s clouding your mind. "Please, Spencer… I need more."
His voice is a dark promise as he whispers in your ear, "Then let’s see just how much you can take."
Spencer's hands glide up your sides, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine. He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “Stay still for me.”
You nod, your breath catching as you feel him shift behind you. His fingers trace the curve of your back before gripping your hips again, positioning you just how he wants. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, your body thrumming with a mix of pleasure and need as you wait for his next move.
He takes his time, savoring the way you’re laid out before him. His hands run over your reddened skin, soothing the sting he’d so carefully crafted moments before. “You’re so perfect like this,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. “Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?”
You can only whimper in response, your voice lost in the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. You feel his fingers slide between your thighs, teasing you just enough to make you arch into his touch, desperate for more.
“Tell me what you need,” he commands, his voice deep and authoritative.
“You,” you gasp, barely able to form the words. “I need you, Spencer. Please.”
He chuckles softly, clearly satisfied with your response. “Good girl,” he praises, his fingers dipping inside you briefly, just enough to make you moan in frustration when he pulls back. “But I want to hear you beg for it.”
“Please,” you whimper, your body trembling with need. “Please, Spencer, I need you inside me. I need to feel you.”
Spencer’s breath hitches at your words, his resolve almost breaking. He leans over you, pressing his lips to the back of your neck as he aligns himself with you. “You’re going to feel every inch of me,” he promises, his voice low and rough. “And I’m not going to stop until you’re completely spent.”
You turn over again, letting your thighs fall open, giving him a full view of your soaked cunt. "Please, Spencer."
With that, he pushes into you slowly, savoring the way you gasp and arch beneath him. The sensation of him filling you is overwhelming, the mix of pleasure and the remnants of the stinging pain creating an intoxicating blend that has you crying out in pure bliss.
Spencer sets a rhythm that’s both torturous and perfect, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. His hands grip your hips with enough force to leave marks, pulling you back to meet him with every movement. The sounds of skin against skin fill the room, the only other noise your combined moans and gasps of pleasure.
“Do you like this?” he asks, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. “Do you like how I’m making you feel?”
“Yes,” you cry out, your voice breaking with the intensity of it all. “I love it, Spencer, I love you.”
He growls in response, his pace quickening as he drives you closer to the brink. The tension in your body coils tighter and tighter until you feel like you’re about to snap, and then, with one final, deep thrust, you’re thrown over the edge. Your orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of pleasure so intense that you can’t help but scream his name.
“Who’s fucking you this good?” Spencer grunted, his hips slamming relentlessly against yours.
You replied with a noise just short of a scream, clinging to his biceps. He has you pretzeled underneath him, one leg slung around his hip, the other over his shoulder. The raw spots of your ass brush against his thighs with each thrust, each one a rush of excitement
He brought a hand to your chin, forcing you to look at him through hooded eyes. “What’s my name, darling?” He asked, huffing as he kept his pace up.
“Spencer!” You whined, clawing at his shoulders. Your voice gave out soon after, little squeaks escaping as you chase your high.
He pulled away, panting. “Over. All fours.”
You obliged, turning and arching your back as he propped your hips up. He slid a pillow beneath you, gripping the corners to hold your hips up. You gripped the sheets, wailing as he pushed into you again. He pumps a few times before pulling your wrists to the small of your back, pulling you so you’re back to front with him.
“Spence,” you whined, eyes screwed shut.
He laughs, actually laughs. “What are you crying for, princess?” He says, his lips grazing against your ear. “I’m giving you what you want.”
Your head falls back and you sigh as his kisses begin to get heavier, teeth involved now. You hear his wet kissing noises grow until you feel his teeth sink into your skin. You yelp, hands begging to be freed but his grip tightens.
“Don’t make me get the tie,” he threatened lowly. “I don’t want to leave your pretty little cunt empty.”
You whimpered at his words. “Don't,” you begged quietly, feeling tears roll and drop onto your chest. “I can’t-“
Spencer stopped, bottomed out. “Or maybe I should.” He began to slide out of you, leaving just the tip inside. “Good girls deserve to get fucked, but you haven’t been a good girl, have you?”
“No, Spence. I haven’t.” The gravel in your tone makes your voice unfamiliar. “But please, I’ll do whatever you want me to- anything. Just please let me cum again.” You craned your neck to look him in the eyes. “Please.”
His eyes softened. “Color?”
“Green,” you whispered back.
He watches your face scrunch up then relax in pleasure as you gasp when he fully enters inside you. His palms go to the part of your thighs below your knees. He forces them to open wider, rocking gently at first.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he said softly.
You nod and take a deep breath. Another orgasm begins, your body going rigid as your breath catches in your throat. This time he lets you finish, letting your hands go. You catch yourself on the mattress, whining as you fuck yourself back onto him. He’s stopped moving, letting you use him as his hands roam over your back as he coats the inside of your walls with his own arousal. When you’re finished, you fall forward, his cock slipping out of you in the process.
You lay like that for a few seconds, ass in the air, catching your breath. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you beg him not to touch you for a moment. Your hand is in the air, palm flat. He respects your space, showering you in compliments and thank you's. You stop him when an apology leaves his lips.
“Don’t be,” you said, eyes still closed but your voice is firm.
You can hear him smile. “Can I touch you again?”
You nodded.
Without wasting another moment, Spencer propped you up by your hips again, spreading you with both hands. Spencer sighed at the sight of your cunt, his cum slowly dripping out of you. You flinched as he ran his thumb through your folds, swiping your clit in an up and down motion. You moaned at the feeling. The coil in your abdomen tightened and released in record time, your hands twisting in the sheets as you wailed out his name again.
You flipped over, legs on either side of him. He pulled you up against him, your ass again this chest.
He let go of your clit with a pop sound just to go back and suck it even harder. Your back arching as your mouth and throat were dry from all the moaning and crying, your grip on his hair becoming tighter. You let out one loud moan, your legs shaking and squeezing Spencer’s head between them. You feel a warm gush as he pulls away, marveling at the mess he’s made. His eyes are sparkling, jaw slack as he studied how your body reacted. He licked a swipe up your folds, catching everything he could on his tongue. He leans over you, opening your mouth. You let him, nodding as you placed your hand on the back of his neck. 
He spits the mixture of his and your cum into your mouth. You swallow it down, opening your mouth to prove that it’s gone. You collapse into the bed, sticky and fucked out. Spencer stands up, picking up his boxers from the floor before going to the bathroom. He returns a few minutes later with a warmed washcloth. He drapes it over your warm cunt before using it to wipe away any of tonight’s mess. A water bottle is pressed into your hand and you let it roll out of your palm. 
“Are you alright?” He asked softly, one hand cradling your head. 
You nod, finally opening your eyes. His hair is tousled, sticking to his forehead in some places. “I’m alright, Spencie.” 
He grinned. “I love you.” 
“I love you.” 
+++
The next morning, the BAU office was alive with the usual hustle, but the moment you walked in, the energy shifted. Your steps were slower than usual, each movement causing a slight grimace. As you made your way to your desk, every head turned, curiosity etched on the faces of your colleagues. You could feel the weight of their stares, but you were determined to play it cool. Sliding into your chair with a quiet hiss, you placed your jacket beneath you for some added cushion. It didn’t help much, but it was better than nothing.
Morgan, always the first to break the silence, leaned back in his chair with a wide grin. “Damn, girl, what happened to you? Looks like you went ten rounds in the ring.”
Emily shot you a teasing glance, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Or, more likely, someone had a very intense evening.”
You gave them both a tired but amused look, trying to keep your expression neutral. “Let’s just say I had an… interesting night. And I’m definitely feeling it this morning.”
Before anyone could press further, Spencer strolled into the bullpen, a noticeable spring in his step. He approached your desk with a smugness that only you could truly decipher, carrying a cup of coffee like it was a trophy. With a self-satisfied grin, he placed the cup in front of you, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your temple. “Good morning, love,” he said, his voice laced with a warmth that made you both roll your eyes and smile.
“Morning,” you replied, reaching for the coffee, grateful for the momentary distraction.
But as Spencer straightened up, you noticed something that made your stomach flip—he had a shit-eating grin on his face. That was when it hit you: he was enjoying this. He knew exactly what the team was thinking, and he was reveling in it.
You watched him saunter over to his desk, pretending to be oblivious to the shocked whispers and side glances being exchanged across the room. But you knew better. That grin, the slight swagger in his walk—Spencer Reid was basking in the glory of his teammates’ surprise.
Morgan’s jaw dropped, and he pointed a finger at Spencer, then back at you. “Did you guys see that? I mean, I thought Reid was a little more- damn!”
Emily smirked, shaking her head in disbelief. “I did not see that coming. Who knew Spencer had it in him?”
JJ chuckled, giving you a look that was part admiration, part amusement. “Looks like there’s a lot we don’t know about Spencer.” She nodded, mouthing, we’ll talk about this later.
Rossi chimed in, a bemused expression on his face. “Well, you know what they say, it’s always the quiet ones.”
You glanced over at Spencer, who was now seated at his desk, diligently pretending to be engrossed in his paperwork. The grin on his face, however, betrayed his true feelings—he was thoroughly enjoying the attention, playing the part of the humble genius who just happened to surprise everyone.
But you weren’t going to let him off that easy. No, Spencer Reid was going to pay for that smug grin, just not today. And probably not tomorrow. You needed to recover first, but in a few days… oh, you were going to give him his. And it would be worth the wait.
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honey-on-your-tongue · 3 months ago
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Logan who is about 200 years old??? That much time of experimenting around other women? Of course he knows how to please you. Unlike those twenty year old boys who don't understand sex. The ones he's trying to convince you to go for instead of him.
But you follow him around like a lost puppy. You, just twenty, so innocent...How can you not see? How can you not understand that you deserve so much better?
And then one day, he's finally had enough. He's sick of wanting you and not being able to have you. He's sick of it.
So he goes to your room in the X-mansion with every intention of telling you it's never going to happen and that you should give up.
Instead, he finds you half-naked, getting dressed, wearing just your panties, hair soaked and falling over your shoulders.
Almost reflexively, he steps into your room and shuts the door after himself so no one else sees you like this. No one else deserves to see you so beautiful.
"Logan!" you gasp as he bursts in, somewhere between shocked, embarrassed and annoyed.
And fuck, he should turn around and walk away, but how? You look so pretty, your panties have a little bow on them and he's suddenly seeing red.
Next thing he knows, he's kissing you, his large hands on your waist. He kisses you with hunger, need, an insatiable lust.
You gladly give in, kissing him back, your arms wrapping around his neck.
Your skin is warm and soft, and he picks you up and tosses you onto your bed.
“The things you do to me, kid,” he grumbles and quickly moves to lay between your legs, moving so his mouth is level with those gorgeous, gorgeous panties.
The sweet scent of your arousal invades his senses and he groans, eyes darkening with lust. He kisses your lower stomach, mouth lazily moving down to the edge of the panties and he bites the soft lace. He tugs it down with his teeth, his cock twitching in his pants.
You shudder slightly, goosebumps rise on your skin, and he loses it. He likes the panties but he's sure he can get you another. He tears them apart and tugs the broken lace off, relishing in the little gasp you let out.
He chuckles lowly. “You okay up there?” he teases, his dark eyes meeting yours.
You nod. “Just surprised me a little, is all,” you reply.
He hums and leans down, rubbing his nose against the soft mound of hair there before he grabs your thighs and lifts them. He nudges them wide open and places them on his shoulders.
His eyes take in the sight of your cunt, starting to glisten with arousal. You look beautiful from here, vulnerable and eager for him.
He leans in, his fingers spreading your folds open and allowing his tongue to tease against your entrance.
You whine, he groans, and he devours. His entire mouth covers your pussy, his tongue sliding up and down, tasting your sweet slick while he nuzzles his nose against your clit.
Your legs shake, hips buck, and he laughs.
You poor, poor thing. He's betting no bastard has ever done this for you, at least not the right way, and he loves knowing he's the only one that's made you feel this good.
He squeezes your thighs, feeling the soft flesh, his hands moving up to your ass. He'd love to fuck you from behind just to watch your ass jiggle with every thrust, but there'll be time for that later.
He eats your pussy, feeling your slick dripping down his chin, onto the bed. He pushes his tongue into you and moans at your taste, his cock half-hard and already needing release.
He grinds himself against the bed as he eats you out, groaning, drinking up your juices.
Your hands tangle in his hair and you grind your hips against his face. And he keeps going and going until he can feel you shaking.
The first time you come, he smirks, eagerly lapping up your release. And then he makes you come again and again until you're pushing him away so he stops.
He laughs, kissing your swollen cunt before moving up, his body hovering over yours.
He kisses your lips, a little gentle this time. He reaches a hand down and unbuckles his belt, holding your gaze, waiting for you to tell him no.
But you don't. Instead, you help him, hands undoing the button and unzipping his pants, and he grunts. He pulls his jeans down enough for his cock to spring free.
Your hand gently grabs his length, jerking him a couple of times. He shudders, gasping. So many nights, he's imagined your hand on his cock, how it would feel, how you would look. And the feeling is so much better.
You lead his tip to your entrance, pussy wet and ready. You glance up at him and he meets your gaze, trying to hold himself back.
“Are you sure about this?” he asks. “We can go back, sweetheart. We can stop if you wanna.”
“I don't wanna stop,” you say quietly. “I want this,” you assure, nodding.
He studies your gaze and upon deciding you're being honest, he nods. “Alright. But if you want to stop at any moment, you tell me, understood?”
You nod but he grabs your face in one of his hands. “Repeat it,” he orders.
“If I wanna stop, I'll let you know,” you say quietly, breathlessly.
He nods, satisfied, and as slowly as he can, slides his cock into you. He groans at your wet, warm gummy walls as they wrap around him.
You squeal softly, a shudder passing your body as he sinks deeper, stretching you open. Your hands fall on his shoulders, your nails dig into his skin.
“You're so pretty, sweetheart,” he says, glancing down once he's fully in you, his hips flush against yours. He grabs one of your thighs and wraps it around his waist, giving him more space as he starts thrusting into you.
He groans, holding you tightly as he fucks you hard and deep.
You squeal, whining weakly every time his cock hits your cervix.
He watches himself slip in and out of you, coated in your slick, your cunt stretching to accommodate him.
“Look at you, baby,” he says in awe. “Such a pretty pussy, so good, so tight. Fuck.”
With each thrust he delivers, the bed jolts and the headboard bangs against the wall. You moan broken words, the wind knocked from your lungs as you take his cock.
“Ohh, baby. Baby,” he groans, watching you. “Good fuckin' girl.”
He grabs your legs and pushes them up to your chest, folding you as he fucks you harder. The sound of your soaked cunt fills his ears, the scent of your sex thick in the atmosphere.
“Yeah, fuck, fuck.” He grunts, one of his enormous hands spanking your ass. “Baby...So fuckin' pretty, aren't you? Look at that pretty cunt taking me so well.”
You squeal, cunt clenching around him tightly, and he knows what you need. One of his hands slips between your thighs to pinch and rub your clit.
“You gonna be a good girl for me, baby? Hm? You gonna come on my cock, make it all nice and wet, yeah?” he asks, spanking your ass again.
You nod, trembling. “Mhm! Yes! Yes! Fuck!” you cry out, gasping for breath.
Your orgasm hits you with so much force that you freeze for a second, stuck in a moment of ecstasy. And then you tumble over, shaking and whimpering as your release hits you in waves.
Logan groans, sure he's never seen anyone as beautiful as you when you come. He thrusts into you a few more times and feels his cock twitch.
He quickly pulls out of you, sets your legs down and jerks himself a little before he comes on your stomach, white, sticky release spilling onto your skin. You gasp softly and shudder, and he grunts, taking deep breaths.
“Goddamn,” he gasps and lies down next to you, his cock softening.
You glance at him, lying on your side to face him. “I thought I was too young for you?” You grin.
He shrugs. “Maybe I changed my mind. And I'm really glad I did, baby.”
---
Hehe this man's got me going crazy plsss I'm down so bad 😫😫😫
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