#sorry for bugging you all ;w;
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@beefbroganoffâ Yeah the top pic I tried to incorporate all the elements i liked but it feels flat ;w; Iâm starting to doubt my choices a lot and kinda wishing i could scrap and start over but I also really like... the shaggy green hair Y-Y Iâll try another pass at the top design when i have the chance!
#sorry for bugging you all ;w;#but thank you for giving me your opinions!!#i probably shouldn't care so much anyways ;;w;;
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trying to act like i dont miss being a kid w shit all to do
#this one goes out to all the bitches who grew up in really small towns#im talking 2000 ppl in total#bc when youre a kid in a town w no stores and nothing to do you can make literally anything a game#i was doing experiments on bugs that should be considered torture tactics#my friends and i used to ride bikes so much that we would put water bottles on the back wheel so it would sound like a motorcycle#we would take rocks from ppls front porch and smash them on their driveways bc they wluld explode in a cool way#i ding dong ditched ppl a couple of times#we used to get skipping ropes and mark out ''rooms'' in my friends garage so we could play house except we were all monsters#i ate so much raw mr noodles packs as a kid bc it was literally just smth to do ToT#that shit was the best before we figure out iy was bad flr you. it was crunchy and salty and made you feel kinda weird#looking back i was kinda a shithead#i used to eat raw hotdogs too but we dont have to talk about hat#if youre not a country bumpkin you just wont get it sorry
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sometimes i remember like stuff from my teen years at my dads that was just my everyday life back then and im like lol that was crazyyy. like no wonder im so fucked in the head lol. i used to sleep in a bookshelf cause he wouldnt get me a bed đđđđ
#97#child abuse m#but like the kinda funny kind.#sorry.#but also there was soo much weird shit going on lol#like. the thing where my stepmother used to hide all the soap and shampoo after using the bathroom?#ostensibly bc she didnt want me to be able to wash myself properly so i had to use hand soap to shower?#that was crazyyy like what was the motivation girl!#its YOUR apartment i was stinking up bc you wouldnt let me clean myself or my clothes or my bedsheet or my dishes??#my room was infested w bugs was that not a concern for yall living in the same place đđ#insane.
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concept: a printer that plugs into your computer & prints things
#having to sign into 3 !!!! different accounts + find the pin number on the new household printer#only to be told. hey sorry. there's this bug that only affects macs & you need to sign into more accounts on a windows computer to fix (:#& THEN#getting ads from hp about the subscription model for fucking ink#along w their own ads also taking up 2/3 of my phone screen when i had to check the manual#& the Pressure to print from cloud!! why are u looking for this printer on your own wifi network ): cloud!! cloud!!#i am buying a shitty little printer bc All I Want is to print my sewing patterns oh my god why is this So Hard it's 2024#idk where my equally shitty epson is / was moved while i was away & that Thing is in its place#the work of the devil & it's in my house smdh
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umm Emil Nikos pokemon team if he was in the pokemon world I think he would have a Crobat and a Shedinja and an Appletun and
#emil strikes me as a bug guy hes sweet to all the bugs of the world#also please please please imagine emil with an appletun. i beg of you#vrobat bc he gets a zubat maybe from the exoerimenting and loves it so dearly it becomes crobat#<- implying that in pokemon world Morbius would be zubat themed i guess?#zubat is the one w the life leeching powers noivern is more of a sound bat. and woobat and swoobat. idj what they are but theyre cute#maybe they experimented on all the kinds of bat pokemon. maybe he bas a swoobat too#i think michael woukd have a noivern and b negative would jave a gliscor#i dont think martine would have any bat pokemon but maybe she has a flapple#i think giving away applins in pokemon world is like a sign of affection. maybe emil held onto his and michael gave one to martine. idk#sorry for getting emo about emil in my pkmemon post tag. he wanted to give that applin to michael but he never did. fuck this#maybe hed have a friendship based eeveloution too. espeon maybe#just like the thiught of emil being feiends w all the critters idk#morbius
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god im so fucking obsessed with mallard conway. I hate his ass so fucking much I want to kill him with my bare hands but also he's so interesting to meeeeee
#his relationship with [REDACTED] makes me so fucked up to think about !!!!!!!!!!#wack ass old man why are you so obsessed with himmmmmmmmm. get over it buddy. we get it. you had a bad breakup. its fine#hes like if vlad masters was competent and not annoying . sorry. the similarities make me crazy#old man in a suit sith ghost powers obsessed w a kid they see as a younger version od themselves/someone they used to know#all while holding insane motivations about a snubbed romantic relationship.. get OVER ITTTTTTTT.#i mean. thays not exaftly the case with mal. but it is to me.#just. like. his motivations are so crazy. the way he goes about making people do things he wants them too. UGHHHHH#hes so . interesting. putting him under the microscope and pulling his little bug legs off one by one.#NOT TO MENTION HIS RELATIONSHIP TO GHOUL. SIGH.#blahblahblah#sometbing something being so obsessed with a person you see them everywhere even after theyre gone from your life.#sorry still thinking abt the vlad comparisons. ive been rewatching early dp episodes
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Is it a hot take to say re7 is the scariest resident evil game âŚ
#I genuinely have no idea what people think the scariest rezi game is?#if I had rezi followers Iâd do a poll but Iâm so deathly curious#re7 and 8 are the most .. hm#controversial maybe? minus the re3make#because of the swap to first person but that was the point#the perspective swap was to make âem scarier and I think they did a good job#re7 at least#I donât rhink re8 is very scary sorryđ#re7 just has a better premise#all the Mia cutscenes are fuckin. crazy. to me at least bc one of my biggest fears is getting stabbed with a huge kitchen knife like that#plus the baker house setting is purrfect imo#re8 is very much fairy tail vibes. not too spooky#the vampires arenât scary theyre hot idk what you want from me. it was hot when ethan got his hand cut off by lady d ok.#Iâm not scared of dolls or that ugly ass fish man neither so#not factories neither#just yeah. fairy tail. not scary#tbf Iâm not scared of bugs so the whole bug part of re7 admittedly does nothing for me#which is a shame because itâs AMAZING#but no yeah re7 is so good and so so fucking scary LMFAO#god I need to peer pressure some of my friends into getting into the rezi series I need to be insane w someone abt it#unfortunately itâs a little hard to get into admittedly but once youâre in youâre IN
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nobody asked ever but what kinda pissed me off & what I saw earlier were some dumbasses saying "why didn't they fix all the schools during lockdown đĄ no one was in them" like are you Stupid đđ
#egg.txt#Like do you think... Repairs like that just happen by fairies who come in during the night#People have to fucking worm m#*work man#Not just the people doing the repairs but all the admin staff and everyone necessary to conduct stuff like that and god knows what other#Stuff was impacted during covid it's like God like#I absolutely understand all criticisms of this stupid country but w#Swear down people try to smugly point out '' obvious fixes '' when dude... You seem to forget that it is actual people working on this stuf#Right. Like you don't see it but people and bodies do have to... Do this work??#Sorry that's been my bug bear since I've seen it I'm over it now it's nothing
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btw the tdp au idea i had still fucks like hell so expect that eventually
#opal.txt#i have no title but i do know it entails: 1) sir sparklepuff eldritch horror. sorry im making ur bug more humanoid#2) me taking 'our child'/'you do have another child' and running wild with it. baby trap that man#3) ezran + callum + rayla all having parallels w/au ssp#4) i know we said we wanted elf-human hybrids but not like this
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i think 1989 is no longer my least fave taylor album. but thats also terrifying to me bc the taylor album that is my least fave in its place at least based on what iv seen has very vicious fans
#TO BE CLEAR LEAST FAVE DOES NOT MEAN I DISLIKE IT. IT MEANS I JUST LIKE EVERY OTHER ALBUM OF HERS MORE#PLS DONT KILL ME JUST BC U GREW UP W THIS ALBUM OKAY I STILL LOVE ITT.#yk what. the fearless stans are going to hate this announcment. but the fearless stans dont run this city- we do !! đđđ#<- me referncing that meme is even funnier here bc my fave version of it is set to welcome to new york#also maybe my least fave is now lover đłđłđł idk#like lover has the man -__- but it also has cornelia street inthaf the archer cruel summer daylight etc#yntcd doesnt even like bug me. thts my secret shame maybe its bc it came out at a point in my life were huge star taylor swift being an#ally actually meant a lot to me bc i had j been outed and had all forms of support taken from me so i fully felt alone but there u go#(thts also smth i wanna talk abt later how ppl in mostly supportive sitatuions will see acts of allyship that are actually meaningful to#those in unsupportive situations bc its someone acknowdging that they exist and deserve to and bc thats relativly normal to them#theyll see it and just assume it has no value when it is actually important to many people but thts a convo for a differnt day)#i got of topic. what is the topic the topic is you got that james dean day dream look in your eye and i go that red lip classic thing that-#ALSO J WANNA CLARIFY AGAIN I LOVE FEARLESS. i just love the other albums more a bit. SORRY.#flappy rambles
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bugs are the most likely thing to make me experience suicidal ideation
there's a spider in my room and i immediately start to seriously weigh the cons and pros of just killing myself on the spot to never have to live in a world filled w these freaks again
#personal#depression#tw suicide#suicide tw#suicide mention#<- for filtering#arachnophobia#entomophobia#like i'm doing a lot better now so i dont actually get a lot of suicidal thoughts#but bugs. bugs will always bring those back#im happy to be living this life while i'm here but once it's over i'll be happy there's no more bugs to suffer through anymore#like yes yes yes wishing for an entire species to go extinct is Bad bugs have a reason to exist and are very important and crucial to the#ecosystems and nature yada yada#and you shouldn't say ''kill it w fire'' ''hate that'' etc etc in response to someone having a bug as a pet that's just rude and mean obvio#sly#but the moment someone starts talkin abt how cute bugs are n how we should learn to love them n they're actually animals w lives#and that stupid lil ''i'm sorry you think i look gross i didn't know it would kill me'' bullshit i hate it#like good for you great for you. still hate them though and i will kill any bugs in my house no hesitation no guilt i don't give a fuck#anyway this was all inspired by finding 2 spiders chilling on the ceiling right on top of my fucking bed#my sense of safety and comfort has been destroyed and i'm having some of the worst time ever#bugs are not my friends and if i had a wish i would wish for a world that functions completely fine and identical to ours#just no gross bugs
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Kid?
Logan Howlett x fem!mutant!reader A/N: I havenât watched X-Men since I was a child, so I canât promise this is going to be canon-compliant. I havenât watched DP & W either, Iâve just been influenced by that one gif where Hugh Jackman shakes his head like a dog. I feel FERAL Also, I am not good at superhero names or coming up with creative powers. So youâre a mutant with matter manipulation and they call you Flux. I mean, superhero names are inherently ridiculous so I think this works. (Donât judge me, Iâm just here for the sexy man) Summary: You walk in on Logan and Jean in a compromising position and feel your heart break. You really thought he loved you, you were so wrong. (Or were you?)
It was your own fault, you should have knocked before you busted through the door. You only have yourself to blame as you struggle to catch your breath and swallow down the lump in your throat. The image of Logan standing between Jeanâs bare legs is going to haunt you for a while. Their faces will keep you awake at night, cringing at yourself while you remember the humiliating moment.Â
You rush towards the door, a stupidly giddy skip to your step. You were a mutant, a superhuman, and getting a chance to talk to your crush should not have you giggling like a schoolgirl. Still, youâre blind to all logic when it comes to Logan.Â
You turn the corner, spotting the medbay and nearly ramming into the door you know heâs lurking behind. Charles had told you where to find him. Of course, you hadnât paid attention to the odd tone of voice when he had very clearly warned you to knock. All youâd heard was Loganâs name and youâd zoned out for the rest of the conversation.Â
And, of course, you donât knock. You grab the doorâs handle and bust in, âHey!â Your eyes widen and your stomach plummets with a depressing plop to the floor. Your eyes nearly bug out of your head when you see the way Jean and Logan are entangled in each other. Heâs leaning over her, the muscles and veins in his neck pulsing with strain. Normally, that sight would have you nearly drooling.Â
Instead, all you can see is the flush on Jeanâs cheeks and the way her pupils are dilated with want. Her nails are digging into his back, bare legs twined around his waist. Thereâs no way to misinterpret this. No way for you to later assure yourself that this was all just a misunderstanding.Â
The words stumble out of your mouth in a disjointed mess that even you canât decipher. You stand there, jaw opening and closing like a fish out of water before you finally get it together. âCharles,�� you stutter out, his name sounding like a question. You wince and finally tear your gaze away from them. âSorry,â you chuckle, trying to play off your hurt as humor. âCharles needs us all for a mission.â
You donât give them a chance to respond, you slam the door closed, ignoring what you think might be someone calling your name.Â
You shake off the mortifying memory and groan. Your head falls into your hands and you grip at your face until the pain distracts you from the embarrassment. Itâs not too hard to push it all down, to pretend what happened didnât make your heart crumble away into nothing.
Maybe itâs because youâre a mutant that youâre so used to rejection. Youâre used to constantly being disappointed by people around you. Your childhood was nothing but cruelty, your crush not liking you back canât compare to half of what you went through.Â
Thatâs what you tell yourself, at least, to try and pretend it doesnât hurt as much as it does. You shove it down until you think you canât feel that dull ache anymore. And when Jean and Logan walk into the room, looking more put together, you smile at Logan like you always do. It doesnât turn down at the corners, your eyes donât water. You take in a deep breath and look utterly unaffected.Â
He sits down beside you and leans towards you. âI can explain-â
You cut him off and shake your head. âForget about it. I should have knocked.â You turn towards Charles who wheels himself to the front of the room. You dismiss Logan and ignore the way his stare burns into the side of your head.Â
Charles looks to Jean and Logan, a smile starting. Then his gaze drifts towards you and your chest deflates when you see the look on his face. He knows, the old miser probably coasted over your thoughts and he knows. He sends you a sympathetic look that makes you feel like a little girl who just got told unicorns donât exist. âJean, Logan, glad that youâve finally joined us.â
Logan nods and leans back in his chair. But his eyes remain fixed on you and it makes you wish you could stab a fork into them. You let out a short, irritated huff of air and frown at yourself. Maybe you were a little more angry than you would like to admit.Â
You blame Logan for that. You never would have fallen so deep into infatuation if you hadnât believed there was even a sliver of a chance with him. Always speaking so kindly with you when he would barely spare anyone a second glance. Constantly doing checkups on you after a particularly harsh training session with Charles.Â
Your mind runs over all the small things with him, everything youâve done together. And youâre hit with a sudden nauseating thought. Oh my god, what if he sees me paternally?
You force yourself not to physically react but inside your throwing up and fucking freaking out. You feel a sudden spark of alarm from Charles and quickly do your best to fortify your mind so he doesnât see your major mental freakout.Â
Youâre not that much younger than him. Well, itâs not illegal, your crush on Logan. But what if this entire time, when youâve been falling harder and harder for him, heâs just been platonically taking care of you? Youâve seen him do it plenty of times for the younger kids, as reluctant as he is to admit it.Â
Youâre spiraling further and further into panic. So much so that you have no idea whatâs even being discussed or whatâs going on. You get onto the jet and have to ask Storm what youâre doing. She gives you a confused look but tells you nonetheless. Just some recon on a potential mutant trafficking ring. Nothing out of the ordinary, as depressing as that is. There shouldnât be much violence, which is why your group is particularly small today.
You nod your head, moving like youâre in a daze as you throw yourself onto a seat. Logan sits beside you, an alarmed look on his face. âYou alright, kid?â
The nickname, which is used to make your stomach flutter, makes you want to throw up. How have you missed it for this long? It was laid out so plainly before you. Of course, he doesnât want you. Not when he has perfect Jean. Bile rises in your throat with a vicious ferocity when you glare over at Jean.Â
Thereâs a sudden petty, vindictive rage fueling you. The type you should have abandoned in high school, especially now that youâre grown. Instead, you feel like giving into Loganâs idea of what you are. You feel like reacting to all of this petulantly.Â
You ignore Logan and instead catch Jeanâs eyes. Slowly, and with as much intention as you can force into your gaze, you look from her to Logan and then Scott. Her eyes widen and Logan scoffs beside you. She shakes her head minutely, silently begging you not to say anything. You smile at her and stand up.
You take a step towards Scott and Logan calls out an irritated, âKid.â You ignore him and Jean eyes you warily as you approach. She stands like sheâs ready to fight you and take the jet down just to keep you quiet. You reach Scott and can hear the way Jean takes in a sharp breath.Â
âScott,â he looks up at you with his brows raised. There's a pause before you speak. Dragged on too long for Scott not to realize youâre planning something.Â
Jean takes a step towards you and you grin, âMind checking my cuffs?â Scott gives you an odd look and his confusion only gets worse as Jean slumps onto the seat beside him. Sheâs not even trying to hide her relief. Scott shakes his head and holds his hands out, fingers gently probing around the cuffs on your wrists. The ones that keep your powers in check.Â
Youâre still new to welding them. And theyâre too entwined with your emotions for you to just have free range with them. If you hadnât had the cuffs on this morning, youâre afraid you might have just turned everything around you into nothing but dust.
âThey look fine, Flux.â His tone betrays his thoughts. He doesnât know why youâd come to him for this when itâs Charles who usually deals with it. But this stupid, petty little display wasnât for poor oblivious Scott. It was for the woman sitting next to him. The redhead whose still drilling holes into your skull.Â
Youâve got leverage over her that youâve never had before. Scott wouldnât take her little foray with Logan very well. And all it would take is a flick of your wrist to give him a very clear image of exactly what youâd seen. Then, her picture-perfect relationship would be over in a matter of seconds. Youâre sure Logan would be more than pleased. But he doesnât seem to understand that Jean just wants to have fun with him, sheâd never choose him over Scott.Â
âThanks,â thereâs a bite to your tone that youâre not used to. You usually keep your emotions relatively in control. That way you wonât have to wear these cuffs one day. But you feel volatile today. Youâre channeling your hurt and turning it into misguided anger.Â
You drop your wrists to your sides and stalk toward the front, hovering behind Charleâs and Stormâs chairs so you donât have to look at the others. It doesnât take long for you to feel the floor trembling under heavy booted steps.Â
Loganâs arms rest on the headrest of the chairs, bracketing you in between them so you canât escape. He leans forward until his chest is pushed against yours and you can feel every ridge of his muscled torso pressing into you. You try not to suck in a breath, try not to play into the cliche of instantly forgetting why youâre angry when youâre faced with those muscles of his. It is hard, though, because heâs so handsome and so warm and you just want to melt into him.Â
âWanna explain what the hell that was?â His voice is so low, whispering against the shell of your ear so only you can hear. You feel the vibrations of it against your back, his tone more gravelly than it should be.Â
You glance over your shoulder at him, face placid and blank. âWhat? Just needed some help.â Storm looks over at you both and rolls her eyes.Â
Logan opens his mouth to say something but she cuts him off. âPut a pin in the loverâs spat, weâre landing.â Using just a bit of your power, you push Logan off of you and head towards the back of the jet. Thereâs a slight jolt as you land and then the ramp opens up and youâre practically running into the snowy forest.Â
You donât know where you are, mainly because you werenât paying attention, you just know it's fucking freezing. The leather of your suit isnât doing much to help fight against the chill. Charles stays on the jet and reminds you all that this is only meant to be recon. Youâre partnered up with Logan, and as much as it irritates you, youâre not stupid enough to argue against it.
You have to put aside your personal grievances for this mission. You canât risk the safety of mutants because the guy you like likes another girl. Logan seems pleased about it, stubbornly staying by your side even when you make it clear you want space.Â
You both linger behind the otherâs as Storm leads you through the forest. Jean is being more touchy with Scott than normal. Either to assuage her own guilt or to rub it in Loganâs face, youâre not sure which. You nearly gag as you watch them whisper to one another, you glance over at Logan to see if he notices.Â
Youâre startled when you see him already staring at you. His lips tick up into something mischievous when he catches your eye. That smug smirk on his face as he leans in towards you. âWanna tell me whatâs got you so pissed off?â
You roll your eyes and tamp down the rising tide of anger. âNothing,â you bite out, jaw clenching the longer you stare at the back of Jeanâs head. Youâre surprised you havenât chipped a tooth with how hard youâre grinding your teeth together.Â
He scoffs, not believing you for a second. He doesnât say anything, just gives you an expectant stare. You can taste the words forming on your tongue, an irritating urge to just spill your guts overcoming you. Before you can stop yourself you blurt out, âIâm a little surprised thatâs all.â
âOh yeah, âbout what?â You hate how amused he sounds, the chuckle just lying in wait under his words. Like your anger is funny to him, like he didnât just break your stupid fucking heart.Â
You stop walking, not feeling as intimidating as you want while you shiver and huddle into yourself. He seems perfectly at ease in his leather jacket and beater, still refusing to wear the uniform. He leans back and looks at you with a fondness that you canât tell if you love or hate. âYou and little Miss Perfect.â You spit the nickname with enough venom to make both of your eyes widen.Â
Logan rolls his eyes and takes a step towards you, again, Storm interrupts you both. âGuys, really?â Everyone turns around to stare and you will the heat in your face away. âNot the time,â she scolds and you brush past Logan to catch up with the others.Â
You come upon a warehouse, itâs nearly camouflaged under all the snow. You see two guards waiting outside the metal doors and you all disperse behind the trees. Storm glances towards Jean who focuses on the guards. They drop to the floor and you wave your hands, their guns melting into puddles of metal.Â
Logan and Scott move forward, sliding the large metal doors open. You wince at the loud screeching as the rust flakes off the sides. Thereâs a collective quiet as you all hold your breath, waiting for them to give the all-clear. Once they run inside and run back out, you and the others quickly get to your feet and rush into the warehouse. Logan closes the doors again as you make it inside.Â
âNo one here?â Storm checks. Scott shakes his head and you frown. That doesnât make any sense. Why would there be guards if there was nothing inside?
Your question is, unfortunately, answered a minute later. You find a pile of metal crates stacked on top of each other. A large beige tarp covers them. You tug at the corner, letting the fabric slide off. Your eyes flutter with disappointment, âGuys! Over here,â mutants sit inside the crates. Each of them stares at you with varying degrees of mistrust and fear.Â
As awful as it is, youâve gotten used to these quiet depressing missions. There arenât usually many mutants in one place. They donât like to keep the product in one spot for too long. There are only four kids here. The youngest is eleven and the oldest is seventeen. Thereâs nothing physically telling about their abilities so you assume it must be psychic powers.Â
They donât want to come with you until you all give them a demonstration of your powers. Proving that youâre not just trapping them and taking them somewhere worse. Youâre nearly out the door when Charles's voice rings loudly through all of your minds.Â
You wince at the volume, hands coming up to grip at your hair as he shouts, âBehind you!â A gunshot rings out, something hot rips across your wrist and you gasp in pain. Thereâs a clatter of metal as your cuff drops to the ground, the bullet having destroyed it. Without them both, theyâre useless. One wonât work without the other.Â
You glance up at Logan, a panicked look on your face. You can already feel the tidal wave of power thrashing and building in your chest. Itâs been so long with the safety net that you forgot how bad it gets without the cuffs.Â
âWe need to get you out of here!â He shouts over the gunfire. He herds the group behind a cluster of metal shipment boxes. It provides enough cover for you all to try and figure out an escape plan.Â
You listen to the otherâs worried voices, each of them trying to console the kids. You donât know their powers yet. Donât know what might go wrong if they get too scared and canât control their abilities.Â
You canât speak, breaths coming short and fast as you clutch your wrist to your chest. You know itâs delusional, hoping that if you keep a tight grip like the cuff you might be able to control yourself. You can already feel the energy leaking out of you, the ends of everyoneâs hair stands on end. The wall in front of you warps and cracks like it canât decide if itâs liquid or solid.Â
You grit your teeth and look only at Storm. âYou need to get out,â you force the words out. It causes physical pain to try and keep everything at bay. You can feel pressure building in your forehead, pushing out until you think you might explode.Â
âWeâre not leaving you,â Logan snaps. Thereâs shouting going on behind you, a pause as they all reload their guns.Â
âWasnât a question,â you grit out. You look towards Jean and thereâs a moment where you both put aside your differences. You both know how stubborn he is, how much heâll fight against leaving you behind. Regenerative powers or not, it's dangerous to even be close to your gift now. You can see them all straining against the ebbing flow of your powers. Their skin shifts unnaturally like youâre already altering the atoms of their being.Â
This is why youâre only allowed to train with Charles and Jean. They can get in your head, shut it down when you canât. Youâre not sure youâre going to survive yourself. Logan glances between the two of you and practically growls at Jean, âDonât you fuckinâ dare-â
His words trail off into an unintelligible slur as he slumps forward, Jean having knocked him out with her powers. Scott grabs him and grunts under the weight of his body. âIâll cover you,â you gasp the words out. Anything but focusing on your powers causes physical strain that makes you feel like youâre being tugged in a hundred different directions. âJust get them out,â you nod towards the kids.Â
Storm nods and you slip out of cover. It isnât hard to push your powers in one direction, to solidify the air in front of you so the bullets ricochet harmlessly off. You listen to the whine of the metal door and wait for the others to be gone.Â
âTheyâre in the jet,â Charles's voice rings out. âDonât do this,â he warns. You canât think of a response, youâre not even sure what you would say. You never thought you would be able to approach death this calmly, or that this would be how you die. It feels almost pathetic, dying because you lost control on a recon mission.Â
At least those kids are safe. Itâs not a bad reason to die. Just not great. You glance down at the other cuff on your right hand, the air around it fluctuates until it melts off your wrist like liquid metal. With the last barely there tether off your powers, you close your eyes and release the tidal wave.Â
It feels like a dam exploding. It doesnât leak fluidly from you, it rips through you like a hailstorm of knives. Tears apart anything in its path and rewrites the molecular build of everything in its path. Screams echo through the air as menâs bones turn into brittle dust and their hearts morph into something inorganic. Youâre blind to everything around you, vision clouded by the horrific release of energy.Â
You can feel warmth leaking down your face. Blood still pours from the wound on your wrist, and fresh blood from other wounds you canât even feel. You donât know when the screams stop, or when youâre finally drained. But you feel like an empty husk as you drop to the floor, your head bouncing harshly against the cement as everything goes black.Â
âIâm gonna kill you,â Logan says with a grin, glaring at Scott even though itâs Charles who is holding him back. Heâs got a firm mental grasp on Logan, keeping him locked into place while he focuses on the warehouse.Â
Theyâre waiting for the all-clear. The others know thereâs always the possibility that theyâre going to be collecting a body. But none of them are willing to say that, not with the look on Loganâs face. His muscles look ready to pop out of his skin with how much heâs fighting against Charlesâs hold.Â
Scott backs away from Logan with a scoff. He stands near Jean, but she canât take her eyes off the restrained man. Nothing had happened this morning, Flux had seen to that. Interrupting them just as theyâd started. Seeing the way heâs acting now, sheâs starting to believe that nothing is ever going to happen.Â
Heâd looked like he was about to dismiss her when she started making a move. She can see the anger on his face, it seems heâs only ever pissed off. But underneath that, as much as he hides it, she can see the fear. Heâs terrified that they're going to walk in there and youâre going to be dead.Â
Jean can feel the fear of the others as well. Theyâve only seen you lose control once and that had almost leveled the mansion. Charles had stopped you then, but the loss of the cuff had been so sudden Jean just barely had enough strength to keep the others blocked from your powers. She didnât have enough time to shut you down.Â
Jean, as much as sheâs tried to deny it and dismiss her suspicions, canât look Logan in the eye and ignore it anymore. Itâs never been her that heâs wanted. The way he trails along beside you, always prodding and poking until youâre pissy and mouthing off. Itâs not done because he finds antagonizing people fun, it's because he loves seeing you all worked up and passionate. He doesnât view you through the same platonic lens he does the others. Youâre something else to him, something she doesnât want to name, afraid of the bitter taste it will leave on her tongue.Â
Charles slumps back in his chair and Logan suddenly lunges forward. He looks a little surprised by the sudden freedom of movement, but before any of them can stop him heâs running out of the jet. âLogan,â Jean tries to call after him but heâs already a distant blur.Â
Scott sighs and starts down the ramp. âCome on,â he mutters. Heâs the last one who should be coming along. If anything is wrong with you, heâll end up being Loganâs punching bag. Jean follows reluctantly, sheâs not sure she wants to see whatâs happened.Â
Your powers are too similar in their volatile nature. The way they rule you and come so close to destroying you when you use them too much, is too familiar to Jean. She doesnât want to see you lying dead on the floor and be reminded of her own mortality. But someone needs to make sure Logan is stuck on a leash.Â
They reach where the warehouse should be. Itâs nothing but a pile of rubble now. Throughout the wreckage, Jean can make out odd pools of liquid, some writhing, others still. She can only assume that these had been the men shooting at them. She doesnât see your body, none of them do. But Logan isnât giving up.Â
He lifts different pieces of metal and tosses them off into the forest. Jean doesnât sense your presence anywhere but she doesnât have the heart to tell Logan to give up. After a few minutes of searching, she almost tells him to quit. But she canât see him anymore. Heâs disappeared somewhere behind a particularly large pile of roofing. A moment later, Logan stands up. His jacket is gone, wrapped around the body in his arms. None of them are close enough to see if youâre breathing. And he doesnât say a word as he brushes past them, just keeps going back to the jet. Ororo, Scott, and Jean all share a silent look. None of them prepared for the potential fallout thatâs going to happen after this.Â
The first thing you feel is two familiar bands of metal around your wrists. The comforting feeling of the cuffs is enough to have you sinking further into the pillows surrounding you. Then you hear the beeping in your ear, feel the cool blow of AC, and become startlingly aware of the fact that youâre in a bed you donât recognize.Â
You groan, eyes peeling open painfully as your lashes get stuck on your skin. You reach up to rub at your face but your arms feel too weak to lift. You give up on the thought, instead staring up at the ceiling and waiting for your vision to refocus.Â
A throat clears in front of you and you nearly jump out of your skin. Sitting at the end of your bed, arms crossed and a fierce glare on his face is Logan. His feet are propped up on the small table beside you. He quirks a brow and gives you a sardonic grin, âFinally awake, princess?â
Normally the name would have you up and doing somersaults, but thereâs something distinctly negative and disappointed lacing his tone. It squashes any and all butterflies in your stomach. You grimace as you try and sit up. Logan is up in an instant, an annoyed look still on his face as he helps you up.Â
You canât help your dopey smile at how gentle his hands are on you. Even pissed off, he treats you so kindly. Maybe itâs the drugs relaxing you, or the fact that you almost died, but you canât remember whatever made you mad at him. You can only feel the slide of his calloused hands against your arms, the way you shiver under his touch and crave more.Â
He pulls the chair closer to you with a loud scratch of metal feet on the linoleum. You groan at the loud sound and he huffs, throwing himself down in the seat. âHow do you feel?â
Your head sinks back against the wall and you finally realize youâre in the medbay. Itâs why everything smells so sterile. âLike I got hit by a semi.â
He barely lets you finish your thought before he spits out, âWhat the fuck were you thinking?â He doesnât ease you into this at all and you frown. Youâre not sure why you would expect him to ever beat around the bush. Thatâs not his style, heâs always been blunt. Even when others wish he wouldnât be.Â
âWhat else was I supposed to do?â You ask, voice weak. Your throat feels like itâs been ripped apart. Idly, you wonder if you had been screaming in the warehouse or if this was just general strain from the whole ordeal.Â
âNot put yourself at risk like that.â He leans forward, voice stern and bordering on shouting. You know heâs holding back. As much as he wants to lay into you right now, heâs stopping himself from going completely out of his mind. You appreciate it, but you almost wish he would just yell at you. You wish you had a reason to resent him, to finally get over him. âNot have Jean knock me out like that. You donât get to make those decisions for me.â
Itâs completely inappropriate and horrible timing, but you canât help but scoff at the mention of Jeanâs name. Can you not have one conversation thatâs not tainted by the mention of the redhead?
Loganâs mouth snaps shut and he glares at you in disbelief. You squeeze your eyes shut, not willing to face him as embarrassment washes over you. No wonder he always calls you kid. Youâre not exactly acting like an adult. Youâre being a brat and for such a stupid reason too.Â
Just because you like him doesnât mean he has to reciprocate. You canât just force your feelings on someone. âLogan,â you whisper his name, âSorry. Iâm sorry-â
He cuts you off before you can finish. Some of the anger, but not all, has ebbed from his expression. He almost looks like heâs smiling. âJean? Thatâs what this is about? Jealous or something, sweetheart?â
You sputter, shocked little noises leaving you but no words. After a solid minute of restarting a sentence you donât know how to end you finally land on a squeaky, âWho?â If you werenât so mortified, you might have just thrown yourself out the window. Out of every cop-out you could have gone with you chose to just pretend you didnât know who she was. Maybe you could make this work, like selective amnesia.Â
Your shame only builds as Logan laughs. You cover your face and wish you could bury yourself six feet deep and never come up. You feel two rough hands wrap around your wrists, tugging your own away from your face. You donât have the energy to fight back, so you keep your eyes on his chin. Too afraid to meet his gaze.Â
âCome on,â he mutters, gently nudging your chin up until youâre forced to look at him. You're caught off guard by the look in his eyes. You recognize it, but youâd only ever seen it directed at Jean. Itâs the same way youâve always looked at him. Pure unguarded want and desire.Â
The hand on your chin drifts back, fingers tangling in your hair and gently resting on your jaw. He tugs you forward until your lips are nearly touching, breaths mingling with every exhale. âOnly ever wanted you, darlin'.ââ
The kiss catches you off guard. It shouldnât, deep down you knew it was coming, but the intensity behind it, the way you can practically taste how bad he wants this, wants you, catches you off guard. You lean into him, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting yourself melt into his hold.Â
His free hand drifts to your waist and clutches the flimsy hospital gown until you hear it tear. You part your lips, deepening the kiss so you can finally taste him. Itâs cigars and whiskey, something you should hate but is entirely intoxicating when heâs holding you so tightly. Fireworks are going off in your mind, sparks darting between your fingers as the cuffs struggle to contain all the energy suddenly pushing out of you.Â
He can feel you holding back, squeezing you like itâs a promise he can take it. Take everything you throw at him. You let go as much as your cuffs will allow you. Let the energy blanket you both so you canât hear your heart monitor going off like crazy. So you donât feel anything other than each other. You think youâre going to devour each other like youâll just keep kissing until neither of you can take it anymore. You donât want to let go of him, donât want to lose this moment.Â
But you have to breathe. You donât get to just keep living the way he does. You pull away from him slowly, every part of you dreading separating from him. His forehead drops against your own, his laughter playing along your lips as he finally hears the monitor going haywire.Â
You groan, flicking your wrist and shutting it off so it canât betray how flustered you are anymore. He gently nudges you aside so he can sit beside you on the bed. You donât waste a second before youâre draping yourself across his chest and siphoning his warmth. He chuckles, arms coming up to wrap around you.Â
âCanât believe you were jealous of Jean.â
âShut up,â you snipe. You look up at him and glare, âHow else do you explain what you two were doing?â
He leans forward and gives you a smug grin. âShe came onto me, sweetheart.â Your face screws up in distaste and jealousy. Sheâs going to need to learn to keep her hands to herself. He seems to feel the way you tense up, he huffs in amusement and rubs your back. âRelax, youâre gonna blow your fuse again.â
You glance down at your wrists and nuzzle further into him. You canât believe you could have been laying on him this whole time. You never want to use a blanket again, not when youâve got him. âIâll be fine now that Iâve got my cuffs.â
His hand stills on your bicep. He squeezes it before his hand drifts up to your chin and he tilts your face up again. âI donât ever want to see that again.â Youâre a little surprised by the sudden shift in tone, but you knew this was coming.Â
âI had to, Logan. I either took you all down with me or I went on my own.â
Logan frowns and takes in a deep breath. You place a hand on his arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. He smiles down at you, âNext time, take me with you. Iâm not fucking dealing with Summers without you.â
You canât help but chuckle. Your face grows warm and your chest expands with some odd gleeful feeling as he laces your fingers together. âDeal,â you whisper, still smiling at him.Â
A/N: Okay, this might be shit, Iâm not sure. I sort of rushed the ending because as I was writing this I had another idea for him. I guess Iâm officially off my hiatus.Â
end. â I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved Š not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
#wolverine x reader#Wolverine x you#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett#logan howlett x you#x men#deadpool and wolverine#Wolverine
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THE RIGHT KIND OF WRONG â dbf!mechanic!joel oneshot
series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3 pairing: dbf!mechanic!joel x f!reader. summary: your car breaks down and you make a deal with your dad's best friend, joel, who happens to be the best mechanic in town. you'll work for him over the summer holidays to pay your debt back, but maybe you can find a pleasant shortcut to it? a/n: well, well, well... what can i say? this whole uniformed!joel shit is giving me proper brain rot. i don't know what came over me while writing this but i just rolled with it. i do appreciate any notes you may wanna leave to keep me motivated hehe. enjoy! x edit: forgot to mention this oneshot was prompted by this ask! warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. juicy age gap (reader is 21, joel is 48). rough, ABSOLUTE filth & i'm not even sorry. some edging. semi-public groping? masturbation (f and m receiving). oral (f and m receiving). pussy pronouns (she/her). unprotected piv. mouth fucking. very mild brat taming kink. transactional sex. alternating pov. reader is female but that's about it. w/c: ~8.9k of pure filth. divider by @cafekitsune
âUgh, not again, câmon!â
Your cranky little car did not have it in it anymore. It was almost fifteen years old now, having passed down from your older brother to you when you turned sixteen five years ago. Out of pure frustration, you hit the steering wheel with the palm of your hand and let out a raspy grunt.
The check engine light had lit up on the dash, which was what caused your fit. And then, as if orchestrated by the universe, the engine made a loud, clicking noise. You flattened your forehead against the wheel, your fingers curling around the rubbery texture with a tight grip.
âYou stupid car!â, you screamed at it as if it was a sentient being. âIâm broke, you cannot die on me like this!â
You were on the parking lot of a cafĂŠ. Early that afternoon you had met with some friends to celebrate the beginning of summer and the end of the academic year. One more and you would be done with your degree â it looked so damn far away, but you still had this summer to look forward to.
Rummaging through your purse, you finally located your cellphone and quickly dialled your dad.
âYeah?â
âHey, dad. Iâm at Bettyâs. The fucking light has come on again?!â
âWatch your mouth!â, he reprimanded you from the other side of the line. You could hear him huff and puff with disapproval. âI think your car is on its last legs, gonna have to think about buying one.â
âYou know I canât afford that, all my savings are going into my degree. Iâll just have to get it fixed for now.â
âTake it to Joelâs then. See what he thinks.â
âBut itâs a Sunday, you think heâll be open?â
âThat man is a workaholic, you bet his business is open today.â
âAlright, you reckon heâll do it for free?â
âFor free?â He laughed; you could imagine him shaking his head. âI doubt it, but maybe heâll give you a discount. Gotta go, little bug. Iâll see you at dinner. If you can make it, obviously.â He mocked you.
âHa, ha⌠So funny. Talk to you later.â And you hung up.
The drive to Joelâs garage was a fucking torture. Every time the engine made a squealing noise, your heart would jolt to your throat. You tried to encourage it, whispering sweet nothings in the hopes it would get appeased and make it to Joelâs repair shop.
You also got distracted by your filthy mind. Joel had been in your DILF radar since you were nineteen. Three years ago, your dad celebrated his 45th birthday with a barbecue in the middle of summer. Joel had turned up in a white tee shirt, khaki shorts and flipflops, with untamed silvery curls and a crate of beer under his arm.
When the Texan heat became unbearable, he had stripped himself of his clothes, fashioning a pair of short swim trunks that had left you breathless and wet. When you watched him get out of the water later that afternoon, you could have sworn that the tip of his dick had shown briefly before he discreetly tucked it away. That image had been burnt into your retinas and haunted you since then.
Unconsciously you licked your bottom lip, your core molten with slick, as the car came to a halt. You had arrived at your destination.
There was an old Ford at the front of the garage, someone working under the hood. When the driverâs door of your car slammed against the frame, Joel peeked up from the engine he was working on.
His eyes flickered with recognition. He grabbed an old rag to clean his big, veiny hands of grease and oil. You wondered what else would be big and veiny. Stop it, you dirty fucker, you told yourself.
âHey, Joel!â You waved at him with a smile.
âWhatâs up, kiddo?â
You rolled your eyes at him, the grin staying on your plump lips.
âIâm not a kid anymore, Joel. Have not been for a long time now, yâknow.â You punctuated, unsure of what you were trying to achieve with that comment. Well, you knew, but did not want to admit it to yourself.
âOh, I knowâ, he husked, his voice suddenly gruff.
Tilting your head to one side, you looked at him with question marks in your pupils. Why had he accentuated that âknowâ? And why all the sudden was your cunt gushing? How could he make you wet with three simple words? You were going to need to request a booty call that night from your friend with benefits.
âUh, uhmmâ, you laughed nervously. âThe engine light on my car has come on for the third time this week and the motor is making weird noises, could you check it out for me, please?â
âSure thing, lemme see.â He took the keys from your hand, electricity cracking between you.
You pursed your lips, a gesture he did not pick up on. Joel walked to the driverâs side, activated something and then the hood popped open. He walked around to the front of the car and propped the hood up with the metal rod that was inside.
As Joel was inspecting the motor with his broad hands, you put one foot in front of the other in a vain attempt to rub your knees together and cause some friction in your needy cunt. You squeezed your thighs some more as you watched him work with his hands, and you imagined what it would feel like if he was working you instead.
Oof! Take it down a notch, girl, you thought to yourself when your clit twitched in desperation.
Then Joel turned around to look at you.
âWhen was the last time you changed the timing belt?â
âThe... what now?â Your mind was hazy with lust, but even if you had been at your full mental capacity, you wouldnât have known what he was talking about.
âThe timing belt. In the engine. What ensures that the camshaft and crankshaft rotate in sync?â He looked at you with a cocked brow, cleaning his hands again on that old rag.
Oh, I would pay big bucks to be that rag.
âAre you even speaking English?â, you replied back, partially because you really had no idea what he was talking about, partially because your brain was all mushy with desire.
âIâll take that as a âneverâ then. You should really get it replaced, seems like thatâs your problem. Have you had trouble starting the car?â
âAs a matter of fact, yes, this very morning.â
âYeah, sounds like it. You need to change it asap, if it breaks while youâre driving it would be bad, very bad. You could have an accident. Also trying to fix it after itâs broken will cost you even more.â
âSo⌠will I need to break the bank?â You asked, already flinching at the idea.
Joel seemed to take a second to consider your options, leaning against the passengerâs door and scratching his scruffy beard.
âItâll be $800.â
Your heart almost stopped, your mouth agape.
âEight fucking hundred?â He nodded. âWell, can Iâ Can you not give me a bit of a discount here? You are best friends with my dad. Pretty please?â You laced your fingers together in a prayer and batted your eyelashes at him.
With a low grunt, he straightened his back and folded arms at his chest.
âIâm already giving you one. I would usually charge $1100. Youâre already getting a bargain.â
âWell, what about $300?â You counteroffered.
Joelâs brows knitted together and then loudly scoffed.
âWhat? You think Iâm a fucking charity? No, kiddo. $800 and thatâs it. If I go any lower, Iâd be losing money. Got a business to run here.â
You really did not have $800 bucks to spare. In fact, you barely had five hundred bucks to your name. Asking your family for money was not an option either â not because you were proud (you were), but because money was tight. Your parents already had enough struggles as it was, you did not want to add to the pile.
You visibly pouted and stumped one foot against the gravel, vexed. A loud sigh slipped through your lips as you pressed the heel of your hands against your eye sockets. You needed the car.
Dropping your hands to your sides, you looked at Joel with puppy eyes, covering the distance that was between you. Pleading, you palmed his strong forearm, your fingers wrapping around the girth of his muscles.
For a brief second, you wondered if you would be able to fully grip his erection. Would your fingertips be able to touch your thumb? Or would he be so thick you would need both hands to handle him?
âJoel, plâplease?â, you stammered, your arousal playing games with your vocal cords.
Unwillingly, he scanned your body up and down â slowly, taking his time, pondering his options.
Joel had wanted to fuck you for three years now, since your lustful eyes widened at the sight of only his tip on that dreadful summer day. He could vividly remember the way you had chewed your bottom lip as you watched him slide his cock back in his swim trunks, shamelessly, without blinking. You only stopped devouring him when someone talked to you, snapping out of your trance.
That night, when he got home, he had jerked himself off with you in his mind. He had imagined your plump lips sealed around his glans, the tip of your tongue playfully caressing the slit â your sparkly eyes looking up at him, dreamy and teary, imploring. He had taken his sweet time, rejoicing in his fantasy, until he had spilled in the palm of his hand, as if he was a hormonal teenager. And every time he would fuck someone to find relief, he would visualize your cunt sheathing him, clamping down on his dick like a beartrap.
Ever since then, every time his eyes landed on you, his blood would boil and his cock would harden. Just like now, dick pounding against his boxers, begging to be paid due attention. With the eyes of his imagination, he saw himself letting go and throwing you into the back of your car, drilling your pussy relentlessly until you came wailing, asking for more.
Joel sucked in his breath â he needed to calm down, distract himself with something else. You were his best friendâs daughter. He shouldnât be daydreaming about fucking you stupid. He had seen you grow since you were a babe.
Never thought of you any other way until that fateful barbeque, when he realised you were a full grown ass woman. Suddenly he had seen you for what you were: a fuckable brat who could get his cock rock-hard with the simple lick a of a lip.
An idea formed as you begged him. You looked desperate â desperate enough to him at least.
Joel cracked his tongue, his expression unwavering. But if you could see, you would know his cock was throbbing already.
âWell. I do have an idea.â His words dragged, his erection making him feel uncomfortable.
âYou do? Iâm all ears!â You exclaimed with a lopsided grin, your delicate fingers tighter around his forearm.
His head snapped to his right, pointing to a sign that read âHand Car Washâ.
âIf you help out all summer handwashing cars, Iâll consider part of your debt paidâ, he explained, looking down at your hand touching him.
âIn full?â You eyed him as if he was your goddamn saviour and that unsettled him.
âI said part of it, kiddo. Iâll leave it at $300.â
You batted your eyelashes at him. Did you know that your suggestiveness was wreaking havoc?
âAnything I can do so the $300 reduces to zero?â
âIâll think about itâ, he reluctantly conceded. Joel had a few ideas in mind, but none of them were precisely appropriate. Not for a twenty-one year old to do with a forty-eight year old at least, that was for sure. âBe here tomorrow at 9 AM, sharp. The team works from nine to twelve, Mondays to Fridays.â
You frantically nodded, almost squealing in excitement. The noise you made forced his cock to twitch. He could make you squeal too, only if you would let him.
âIâll be here! Thanks, Joel.â
Before he could think, you let go of his forearm and hugged him close to your chest. To your round breasts. Those two meaty globes he wanted to palm so badly. He could swear your nipples were stabbing at him. You embraced him so close to your body, his bulge pressed gently against your lower belly, and he wondered if you could feel him.
And then you stepped back. Quickly, too quickly for his liking.
âYouâll need to leave your car here, donât want you driving back in that junk. Iâll have a look at it tomorrow. Iâll give you a lift backâ, he offered. âLemme close first and Iâll be right back in five minutes.â
âNo probs, take your time.â You smiled at him as you went back to your car to grab your things.
Soon you were on the passengerâs seat of Joelâs pickup truck. It was dusking on the horizon, the light scattering through the windshield. Joel put down the visor so he wouldnât get blinded by the sun.
âSo howâs college going?â His attempt at small talk made you smile.
âItâs good, hard but good. The first year was really bad though. I didnât know anyone there, so had to make friends and everything.â You mentioned, shrugging, while mindlessly playing with your seatbelt.
âIâm sure you had no problems making friendsâ, Joel said distractedly, checking all the mirrors before turning at the streetlight.
You placed your elbow on the window frame, the back of your head resting on your palm, and you turned to look at him.
âHow are you so sure?â You asked, curious to see what his take on you was. The man was like a brick wall.
âYouâre so vivacious and talkative. Youâre not the shy kind either, always were part of the popular group in high school, werenât you?â You nodded, but he didnât see you, all focused on the road ahead. âBetâcha you have all the boys running after you.â
Well, that was unexpected. For both you and him, because you saw how his jaw clenched. It was almost imperceptible, but you were so aware of his every move, your body so in tune with his, you couldnât have missed it.
Had he noticed you? Like, actually? Was it possible that Joel fucking Miller, your freaking dadâs best friend, could look at you with other than paternal eyes? Why would he make hat comment otherwise?
Your cunt, still wet from your previous innocent interaction, fluttered. You had no butterflies in your stomach â they were actually clapping their fragile wings in between your legs. This man was a fucking menace to your senses, and he seemed oblivious to the effect he had on you. Or did he? Time to find out.
You giggled at his question and patted his upper thigh a couple of times, as if he had cracked the best joke you had ever heard. The pad of your fingers almost caressed his groin, that sweet dip where his thigh met his pelvis. The denim under your touch suddenly stretched as Joel flexed his leg, trying to release the tension that had rapidly built up.
You bit your bottom lip as he peered at you askance, your hand still too close to his crotch.
âI actually do, but none of them seem good enough, yâknow? I want a man, not a boyâ, you ventured, your top teeth sinking further in the soft pillow of your bottom lip.
You saw Joel sucking in his breath â and the grin in your face grew. He was definitely not immune to you, at least not as much as you had originally thought. He looked so unattainable, always so distant, you had wondered if, in his eyes, you had never grown up.
âDo you now, kiddo?â He asked between gritted teeth, tone throaty.
His brown eyes drifted down for one second, watching the tips of your fingers rubbing the denim of his jeans slightly, and then he locked them back on the road. You heard a low grunt vibrating in his throat, although he tried his best to suppress it.
âYeah. Iâm sick and tired of stupid childish boys. They are just boring now, they lackâ well, you know.â You let him brew with your unfinished sentence and removed your hand from his lap.
You could tell Joel finally was able to breathe again as his chest expanded slowly. His reaction to you left a prickling sensation in your pussy â wet, throbbing, needy. You pressed your knees together, but what you really wanted was for him to reach for you and dunk his thick fingers in your slit.
âYour dadâs there.â He stated, succinct, after clearing his throat.
You looked over your shoulder and through the window to realise that, in fact, you had arrived home. Your father was already waiting for you on the porch, probably because he recognised the noise of Joelâs truckâs exhaust pipe. And then he started walking towards you.
You suppressed a pouting grimace â you wanted just a few more minutes alone with Joel. A few more moves and, who knew? Maybe you would have him fingering the shit out of you. But thanks to your father, you would never find out.
Your father knocked on the passengerâs window and you rolled it down, smiling. Although what you really wanted to do was smack him for interrupting.
âHey, dad.â
âHey, sweetie. Howâs the car?â
âWellâŚâ You looked at Joel â you had already forgotten what was it that needed replacing.
âThe timing belt is going. Bit expensive but your daughter and I have reached an agreement. Will reduce the price for her but sheâs gotta come work on the hand-wash businessâ, he explained, matter-of-factly.
âSounds âbout right. Get your first taste of what the real world is like.â Your dad laughed at his own occurrence, while your mind drifted far, very far.
âIâd love to get a taste.â You answered feigning innocence, turning your face to Joel with a very wide smile painted on your mouth.
His eyes darkened, transfixed on yours. Oh, he knew exactly what you meant. He subtly stirred on his seat and you wanted to giggle so bad, but refrained.
âHey, Joel. Thereâs a game on tomorrow night. You wanna come over? Can have something to eat, few beers, will be fun. I need the company, God knows this lady over here just complains while scrolling through her social mediaâ, he pointed towards you with his thumb and you simply rolled your eyes at him.
Watching football with your old man was as boring as it got. However, if Joel Miller was there, he would have your undivided attention. Well, not him, the screen, obviously. Duh.
Your eyes shot to his, expectant. Your cunt was even more anticipative of his answer.
âYeah, why not?â
Famous last words. That was Joelâs only thought as soon as he entered his best friendâs home. You greeted him at the door, all smiley and welcoming, ignoring the fact that you had been trying to get him hard the. whole. fucking. day.
You had come to work with some very short jeans â every time you bent down to rub the sponge on the carâs bodywork, the bottom part of your perfectly round ass cheeks would show beneath the denim. Did you even wear any underwear? He thought not.
And then that white crop top was the fucking end of him. You had gotten it all wet when a loaded sponge dripped all over your front while you were talking to him about some trivial thing he could no longer remember. You had tittered and apologised while you scrunched it to get as much water out as possible. And the only thing he had been able to focus on were your pointy nipples, staring right at him, screaming for his caress.
After that, he had been at full mast the whole damn shift.
âHi, Joel, come in!â You greeted him excitedly, swinging the door open.
He had taken a cold shower before coming over, but maybe what he needed was a fucking ice bath. Because the moment you batted your eyelashes at him, his cock twitched again. Joel had fisted his dick while showering, in the hopes that emptying his nuts before seeing you again would placate his lust for you.
Nope, hadnât worked. Not one bit. This was probably a bad idea.
âHey, kiddo.â He greeted you, emphasizing the last word.
He could literally be your fucking father, but that did not seem to deter you. If anything, it spurred you on. Had you no shame? Had he no shame? Because he should have stopped you the moment you started to be suggestive. Instead, he had let you go on, enjoying every single second of it.
Joel walked in and made his way to the kitchen, with you on his heels, where your father was lathering up some ribs with his secret sauce recipe.
âHey, Joel. Let me get that from youâ, he said before cleaning his hands on a kitchen towel and grabbing the beer crate from him.
Feeling they were still cold, his best friend cracked two open and handed him one. Joel lifted the can to his lips and saw you looking at him from the corner of his eye.
âWant one?â he asked, since you were of legal drinking age.
You shook your head no, wrinkling your nose in disgust.
âEww, nah. I hate beerâ, you sniggered and his dick spasmed some more.
ââCourse you doâ, said your father before he could reply. âYou only drinkâ Whatâs that crap again?â
âGin and tonic, dad. Itâs literally gin and tonic mixed. Itâs not that fancy.â You huffed and puffed, shaking your head.
âThis youth mixing everything because they canât have proper alcohol. Whatâs next? Mixing beer with lemonade or something like that?â
âWell, thatâs actually a thing. Itâs called a shandy. Donât be so old.â
Joel let you two have a go at each other. Observing the exchange, he sat down on one of the stools in front of the island, knees slightly bent.
âWhat?! You listening to this, Joel?â You father exclaimed with a joking tone. âIs Sarah like this too?â
âYeah, exactly like this. Thinks beer is disgusting and everything. Thought I raised her better than that, but apparently not.â He jested, sipping from the tin can.
âHowâs she doing?â His friend asked.
âSheâs fine. Sheâs turning twenty-four in a couple of weeks. She moved out two months ago, gone to Houston for her new job.â He couldnât help but be proud of his Sarah. She had accomplished so much. âSheâs supposed to be here for her birthday, but weâll see. Sheâs always so busy, donât really know with what.â
âArenât they all? I barely see this one over here and she still lives under my roof.â
You folded arms, rolling your eyes again, while you sat down beside Joel on another stool.
âSorry for having a social life? Like, what do you want me to do? Stay here with you watching football? Got better things to do, dad.â
âSo you ainât staying tonight then?â Your dad asked.
Joel turned to study you, interested in your answer. Could he have some reprieve tonight?
âOf course Iâm stayinâ. Would be rude not to when we have guests over, right, Joel?â And as the last words abandoned your mouth, you placed your left hand on his right thigh under the counter.
God have mercy.
Joelâs muscles stiffened, one in particular more than the others. His thighs were tense as he gripped the beer can with more strength than what was necessary. He kept his eyes to the front, taming his breathing.
He should have done something, slapping your hand away from his lap for instance. But he didnât. And you took that as an invitation, because soon enough you were kneading his bulge under the kitchen island. Your palm rubbed harshly against the denim, and he saw you chewing your bottom lip.
Your father busied himself with seasoning the ribs and the French fries, oblivious to what was happening just a few meters away from him. This feels fucking wrong, but so fucking good, Joel thought to himself, your hand frisking his groin brazenly.
His cock was thudding with desire under his clothing, begging to be freed from its prison. You sensed his desperation, because you quickly tried to clasp your hand around it. Feeling your frustration at the inability of fisting him properly, Joel parted his legs to give you better access. If that was not an open invitation, nothing was.
Iâm already going to hell. Joel had to stop himself of sucking his breath in when you started to unzip his jeans. His eyes slightly widened, but that was his only tell.
âSo who do you reckon is going to win tonight?â Your father asked as your fingers dipped underneath his boxers.
Your warm skin against his beating cock dulled his senses. Then you took his dick out of his boxers and attempted to circle his girth while working him. Joel had to drink from his beer to shut himself up.
âNot sure, but Iâd like for the Longhorns to winâ, he spat the words out as best he could given the circumstances.
âYeah, would be nice seeing our hometown win something this seasonâ, your father continued with the small talk.
Joelâs thighs flexed when you started pumping him decisively. Fuck. He briefly looked down at his erection. It felt too damn good, your tiny fingers gripping him hard as you slowly moved your hand up and down on his lap. The tip of his cock was glistening with precum and you expertly rubbed it on his foreskin with your thumb.
As your father turned around to put everything in the oven, Joel took the chance to look at you. With your gaze averted, you pretended there was something interesting in the wall in front of you, while your right hand was buried underneath your slutty denim shorts. Joel could swear he could hear the squelching sounds your pussy was making while you played with yourself.
âRight, I think this is it. Gotta wait for an hour until everythingâs properly cooked. Wanna move to the family room in the meantime?â He happily chattered as he walked around the kitchen island.
You reacted quickly and let go of his shaft. With his lap right under the kitchen counter, Joel hoped to hell his friend would not see anything out of the ordinary.
âYeahâ, he said with a coarse voice. âNeed to go to the bathroom first.â
Your father just nodded as he sauntered towards the living room and Joel almost let go a sigh of relief. You simply chortled as you put your left thumb in your mouth, making it obvious that you were tasting his precum.
Joelâs cock jerked on his lap as he whispered a blasphemy. Quickly he tucked away his painful dick back in his boxers and zipped his jeans as he stood up. Then he retreated to the bathroom, needing a fucking moment to find his composure again.
Until he heard you.
âGonna go get my phone charger, be back in a jiffy!â
Before Joel could close the door behind him, you slipped your hand in the door gap to stop him from shutting it. You caught him off guard, because he stepped back, brows knitting when he saw you under the door frame.
âWhatâcha doing?â, he questioned you.
You could feel the rigidity radiating from him. You entered the small bathroom and silently closed the door behind you, both of your hands holding onto the doorknob on your back.
âI came to finish what I started.â
You didnât give him time to think â if you did, you knew he would put an end to this. You were too turned on, your cunt beating every time your heart did. Your pussy lips were all wet and puffy â you could feel your slick trapped between your folds, almost seeping into your panties. You had unleashed the beast and wanted it all for yourself.
So you threw yourself into Joelâs chest, your teeth softly scratching his Adamâs apple as one of your hands found its way back to his cock. He tilted his chin up and groaned at your touch. His pounding dick felt warm and velvety against your palm, so hard from working him under the kitchen counter a minute before.
Once he opened his eyes again, he looked down at you as you gripped his erection with both hands. Slowly you jerked him off, feeling powerful with him on the palm of your hands. Every time you pumped him, your clit would twitch in response. He had not touched you yet and your pussy was already palpitating for him. You could not wait to feel him inside you, stuffing you full.
 âWe shouldnât, your father is right thereââ
You could not care less. And to make it evident, you sunk to your knees in front of him, still holding his cock, now at eye level.
Your tongue darted out and you leaned his dick forward until the tip rested flat against your tongue, your hands still working his veiny shaft.
âYou were saying?â You asked before briefly pecking his glans.
âFuckâ, was the only thing he managed to mumble.
That was your cue to give free rein to your lust. You nudged his column with the tip of your nose as your mouth drifted down to kiss his balls. Then your tongue slid out in its full extension, and you flattened it against the underside of his cock, slowly lapping at it until you reached the top and sealed your lips around his mushroom head.
Glancing up at him, you saw pleasure softening his features as you took him in further and further down, until his cock reached the natural resistance at the end of your throat. When his tip bottomed out in your mouth, Joelâs eyes found yours. His jaw visibly clenched at the sight of you kneeling in front of him, cock burrowed in between your lips, tears gathering on your bottom eyelids because of how his dick was outstretching you.
You moaned as Joel pulled his hips back, his shaft leaving your wet cavity, now full of precum and saliva. You swallowed to make room as you avidly tipped your head towards him, your lips hunting down his dick again. Slurping so you wouldnât drown in fluids, you ate his cock like if it was the last edible thing on earth.
At that moment, something shifted in the air. As if Joel, finally, let go of his prejudices and accepted what you were giving him: your mouth to use as he pleased. His fingers hovered over your temples and then they clamped down on your skull as he held you in place.
âStay stillâ, he commanded, and you nodded, his cock sitting snugly in your mouth.
His hips moved back and then forward, rocking his dick in and out of your lips. First slow, then picking up a pace. You stayed put throughout while he fucked your mouth mercilessly, palms against your knees like the good girl you were. Then his glans breached your uvula and you inevitably gagged at the intrusion.
He forced you to remain still as he tried to go further down, but there was nowhere for him to go. Your eyes welled up while you fought back the need to cough, almost unable to breathe.
Joel snapped his hips back and your mouth became free. You started panting while trying to catch a breath. Joel cupped your chin up so you would look at him. His sly grin told you he was enjoying himself a bit too much.
âCan tell youâve not eaten many cocks, have you? Despite pretending to be this slutty brat in front of everyone, hm?â He asked, his voice rumbling in his chest.
âWell, Iââ He didnât let you finish the sentence because as soon as you opened your mouth, he slotted his dick back in between your plump lips.
âI actually donât wanna hear it.â
Inevitably your cunt gushed at his roughness. He was right though â you had only given head to two guys before and their cocks did not measure up to his. Your jaw had actually started to hurt now due to the effort you were making to house his dick in your mouth.
Joel quickly resumed his pounding, fucking your mouth relentlessly â his hips swaying back and forth in front of you.
âSweetie! Can you bring my charger too please?â Your fatherâs question forced both of you to snap out of the sexual haziness you both were feeling.
You two froze in place, Joelâs cock still in your mouth.
âOr I can come get it.â Then you heard his booted steps coming up the corridor.
In a panic, Joel stumbled back and you sprang to your feet, eyes widened with fear.
âNo! Donât worry! Iâm coming!â You shouted back, hoping that your voice sounded far away enough to him.
The steps stopped and you both listened to him walking back to the living room. âThank you, sweetie!â
You turned to look at Joel, who had grabbed a bunch of toilet roll to clean off the mess on his still throbbing cock.
âJoel, Iâm sorry, bââ
âJust go before he changes his mind and comes looking for youâ, his voice was strained with effort. His erection had to be painful by now without any relief.
But he was right. You couldnât risk it. Neither of you could. So with apologetic eyes, you slithered out the bathroom door and ran to your room to snatch a couple of phone chargers.
Fucking torture that was.
Joel had never been in a worse position than that. Sat on the couch with you, your father on the recliner just a couple of meters away â and his dick still pulsating, his balls full of unspent cum. His cock would writhe in his boxers, asking for a relief that never came. He was in excruciating pain and was not able to concentrate at all. All the small talk your father did went over his head, didnât pay attention to the TVâs commentary either.
From time to time, you would graze his thigh lightly â and on one occasion you slid your naughty hand towards his groin. Luckily the living room was dark, the TV being the only source of light, so your father didnât pay much attention to your provocations. You quietly kneaded his bulge, curling your fingers around his erection underneath, and it got to a point where Joel had to force your hand away, because he was too close to coming.
So, when he waved you both goodbye and got into his truck, he could literally not wait to get home. Under the dim light of the lampposts that filtered through the windows into the truckâs cabin, Joel freed his aching dick and fisted it from the base. With his head tilted back against the headrest, he furiously jerked off â fast and with no measure, to the point it was almost hurting. Tension built up from his nuts upwards and when Joel finally got relief, he groaned audibly as his cum spurted out in white, thick streaks.
With a heavy sigh and some laboured breathing, he opened his eyes, looking for some tissues to clean the mess on his lap. As he was putting his cock back in his boxers, something caught his attention.
The darkness camouflaged you well, but he spotted you on the window of your room, watching him eagerly with half-lidded eyes and chewing your bottom lip. Then your head leaned forward, your chin almost touching your chest, and Joel suddenly understood what was happening. You had been touching yourself while observing him do the same thing, until you orgasmed too.
Your eyes locked on each otherâs through the blackness, something dark and perverted floating in the atmosphere. The whole thing felt wrong. The right kind of wrong.
The next week had been a continuous dance between the two of you. You too suggestive, him too evasive. After you had seen him wanking in his car, you had thought you had him under your spell. He had looked like a damn teenager chasing his release, unable to contain it much longer.
But you couldnât blame him â you had had him on edge for almost five hours. First touching him under the counter, then sucking his dick in the bathroom, and finally kneading him on the couch with your dad only two meters away.
It all had affected you too, because as soon as you had scurried away to your room and had looked out the window, you fingered yourself with your eyes locked on him. You came so hard, that you had to steady yourself on the windowsill, trembling knees and all. And once the orgasm softened its grip on you, you had realised he had been watching you as you rode the last wave of your climax.
So yes, for a week you tried to seduce him again, because you needed to know how it all ended. Having him burrowed down to your guts was a necessity now. However, it got to a point where you almost gave up â it was draining having to follow him around like a bitch in heat. You still had one ace up your sleeve though. One that you hoped to play this afternoon. Because if you didnât fuck him today, you were going to lose your shit.
You focused on your task, which was rubbing the soaked sponge on the bodywork of the car. Two other people were doing the same thing on the back, while you were slightly bent over the hood trying to reach the middle. Your breasts brushed against the metalwork, your white tank top completely wet with soapy water, almost transparent now. The coldness was refreshing in the asphyxiating Texan heat and your nipples especially welcomed it, wrinkling tightly and showing through the fabric.
When you straightened, you caught a glimpse of Joel eyeing you intently. But you pretended you didnât â maybe you needed to play difficult, show him no interest. Reverse psychology. So for the rest of your shift you just ignored him, fully conscious of how his sight followed you at all times. Let him brew.
Joel didnât say a word though, didnât come close to you either. But you heard him wicker while you were openly teasing one of your teammates. Were you trying to make him jealous? Absolutely. So, you giggled and played with your hair at the tasteless joke your colleague told you. It wasnât funny, but you wanted Joel to listen to your flirting.
Midday came around and the other two people working on the hand wash business said their goodbyes. Joel employed a father and son in the shop too, who left the garage to go home for lunch. And then it was only you and Joel left. Just as you had planned.
âJoel? Can you help me with this, please?â You politely asked him after lifting a bucket full of water up to your chest.
You took a couple of steps forward and the water spilt all over, soaking your shirt completely.
âShitâ, you heard him say under his breath, jogging towards you.
He slipped his arms underneath the bucket to release you from its weight and then placed it back down between both of you.
âWhat are you doing? Youâre gonna hurt your back with such terrible manual handling.â He reprimanded you, tutting.
âSomething hurts and itâs not my back, Joel.â You muttered, your fingers wrapping around his wrist to haul him closer to you.
You were done with subtlety. You guided his hand to your pussy and pressed it gently.
âHurts right here.â The low, needy mumble poured from your lips like honey.
Joelâs eyes squinted just a tad, and his nostrils flared. You saw the inner battle in his chocolate eyes, and you fucking hoped he lost.
Soon you had the answer you had been looking for. The palm of his hand flattened against your crotch, holding you possessively, and pulled you against his broad chest. You couldnât help but moan when your breasts pressed against him, your taut nipples aching with sensitivity.
âYouâre so fucking nasty, kiddo. Been watching you all week, trying to get me hard all over again, havenât you?â You shyly nodded, biting down your bottom lip as you glanced up at him, his palm rubbing your cunt with determination. âOf course you have, youâre so cock drunk. You loved sucking me, didnât you?â
You shook your head yes, holding onto the waistband of his jeans. You whimpered when his thumb burrowed in your pants, trying to find your slit over all that clothing unsuccessfully.
âJoel, please.â You begged for mercy, for relief, for something â anything he could give you, you would take.
âYou want me to fuck you, kiddo?â His free hand cupped your chin, tilting your head up, while his thumb kept nudging your damp slit. His mouth hovered over yours as you simply nodded again. âHm? You want me to destroy your pussy?â
âYes, yes, YES.â You were already gushing at his dirty talk.
With no more prodding, Joel bowed down and sunk his tongue in your mouth, darting in with the ferocity only a man on the edge could feel. He swept your entire cavity in an open-mouth kiss that left your knees shaking and your pussy throbbing. You moaned into his breath and your tongue lapped at his, the span on his fingers gently covering your neck and squeezing lightly.
Joelâs hand between your legs moved to your ass, pressing you into him. His swollen lump poked at your lower belly intimately and you couldnât resist the urge to dip your hand in his boxers. He audibly groaned as you attempted to circle his whole girth and failed. Just like a week before, you would need both of your hands around his shaft to properly grip him. You pumped him once, very slow, your hand gliding down till it found his balls.
Joel grunted in the middle of the sloppy kiss and pushed you to go backwards until your body met the back of his pickup truck, which was parked at the end of the driveway. Out of prying eyes, you hoped. Not that you cared that much at this precise moment, anyway.
His beard scratched the skin on your cheek as his lips drifted down to your neck. You looked up to the clear sky before you closed your eyes, giving his pulsing cock a light squeeze that snatched a moan out of him.
Without warning, Joel broke the messy kiss and knelt before you, his hands tugging at the waistband of your shorts with no difficulty. Soon your pants were around your ankles, your panties quickly following, leaving you naked from the waist down. Joel helped you take them off but left your tennis on.
Still on his knees, he peeked up with a devilish smile, then leaned forward and lapped at your mound. A heavy sigh slipped from your lips as your fingers raked his salt and pepper curls. The tip of his tongue brushed the point where your slit started and then licked upwards, his tongue skidding through your skin until it reached your belly button.
You pursed your lips, wanting him to go down, not up. In fact, you pushed him down ever so slightly and the cold of his breath against your wet skin when he laughed made you look down, frustrated.
He kissed the beginning of your slit again and when you thought he was going in, he stopped. You whimpered, thwarted, as he got back up to his feet and towered above you.
âYou want me to touch you where it hurts, hm?â He questioned with his lips ghosting yours. âYour pussy? Thatâs where?â
Not waiting for your reply, his index dunked in your pearly furrow and traced it in its entirety, from your quivering hole to your thumping clit. And then he did it again, for good measure.
âYouâre soaking, kiddo. Iâve barely touched you and youâre already dripping.â To emphasize his words, Joel suddenly dived his finger in your opening, a squelching sound making it obvious that you were, in fact, dripping. âYou hear that?â He forced his finger out and then back in, the wet, sucking noise even louder this time.
You frantically nodded as he fingered you, his thumb caressing your begging clit as he did. You mewled into his chest, eyes shut, trying to calm the fluttering of your inner walls around his lonely finger. Lonely not for long, because Joel then introduced a second. You held onto his sides, his tee shirt scrunching in your fists, the orgasm building up.
âCâmon, squeeze your cunt for me. Show me how tight you areâ, he whispered in your ear as his relentless fingering picked up a faster pace between your legs.
You happily obliged and squashed your walls together around his fingers as he dextrously stroked your g-spot. All of a sudden, a firing sensation built in your clit without warning and the haziness of pleasure took over your senses abruptly. You came hard, very hard, wailing his name as he kept on fingering you until the last wave of your climax washed over you.
What the actual fuck? You thought to yourself, amazed. You rested your forehead against his chest, catching a breath and feeling your arousal wetting your inner thighs.
Still recovering from your unexpected orgasm, Joel picked you up and settled you down on the edge of his truckâs cargo bed. Your feet dangled in front of you, and you parted your legs to make room for him while you wrapped his neck with your arms and licked into his mouth.
âNow Iâm gonna eat you raw, kiddo. Give you some of your own medicine.â His hoarse tone gave you goosebumps. Palming both of your breasts over your wet tank top, he pushed you down until your back met the floor of the cargo bed, your legs hanging freely from your knees down. âIs that what you want? This old man feasting on your pussy, on her? âS she gonna like it?â
âJoel, please, justâ Yes, eat my pussy. Eat her, eat me, please.â You begged with a small voice while you pinched your nipples over your shirt, eyes closed.
And finally, he did. With his hands on your knees to keep them apart, Joel lapped at your cunt in one sweet sweep. Your body trembled with elation, shivers firing down your spine. His tongue caressed all the crevices in your shiny slit, lips puffy and reddened. His thumb found your clit as the tip of his tongue played with your leaking hole, going in and out a few times â fucking you with his tongue.
You were not able to take it for much longer â with Joelâs tongue lodged in your creamy fold and your fingers playing with your nipples, you were done for. Soon you came undone, tension growing in your lower belly and molten lava finding its way out. You howled his name, your knees pressing against his head, holding him in place as you came in his mouth. Joel sipped from your fountain, leaving not even one drop behind, your pussy licked clean of your own discharge.
His turn to find relief.
Even though Joel had been fisting himself while eating you raw, the roughness of his palm could not compare to your warmth. He just knew your pussy would hug his cock just right. And he was dying to find out.
Pushing his work jeans and boxers down to his ankles, he kicked his feet until they came off. Soon his security shoes and socks were kicked to the side too. With renewed energy, Joel jumped on to the cargo bed. You propped your torso up with the help of your elbows to study his erection, wetting your lips unknowingly.
Your eyes lingered on his cock for too damn long and it twitched on his hand.
âSpread your legs, kiddo.â
And so you did without complaints. You stretched your legs, Joel having a perfect view of your glistening pussy. You were so horny, he could literally see your cunt palpitating from this angle. Knelt between your legs, he leaned forward until the tip of his dick brushed against your slit, so damp again it just slid off. Jerking himself off, he nudged your soaked entrance with his mushroom head and your mouth opened, shaping a perfect O.
âSo needy, isnât she? Arenât you? Playing difficult to catch today, trying to make me jealous with that stupid boy, but in reality, youâre just a desperate brat wanting to get her pussy drilled by her dadâs best friend.â His dirty talk did not stop while he pushed in, your flesh parting to house him until he bottomed out.
Joel moaned, sweat gathering on his brow, his hands on either side of your head. He stood still for a long minute while your cunt fluttered around him, sheathing his whole length. He could feel your inner muscles adjusting to him.
You were so cockstruck you didnât even reply.
âIâm gonna fuck you now, so take it well, kiddo.â He warned before tilting his hips back and abruptly back in.
You wailed loudly at the first thrust, and Joel had to muffle your screams by covering your mouth with his hand. You licked his palm, but he didnât let go. He did not want you to alert the neighbours around the garage. His hips bucked against yours and then, after a few teasing shoves, Joel started jackhammering you fast and viciously hard.
You draped your legs around his waist, the heels of your white tennis pushing on his ass cheeks, encouraging to go deeper and quicker. And so he did, uncovering your mouth to replace it with his.
Joel fucked you mercilessly, filthily. He drove his dick in and out of you in quick succession, drilling your tacky pussy. And he knew you were loving every single second of it. Your soft sobs only spurred him on and when your moist pussy clutched around his drumming cock announcing your orgasm, he couldnât restraint himself for much longer.
He stoically let you come while riding your own climax. His balls tightened and his belly muscles strained, signalling his own relief.
âWhere?â, was the only word that he managed to whisper.
Your eyes were still closed, a languid smile lingering on your lips, all blissful and satisfied while he was still fucking suffering.
âIn my mouth.â Your reply was almost his undoing.
Joel snapped his hips back, his hard, throbbing cock slipping out. He dragged his body across yours until his thick, hairy thighs were on each side of your head and his nuts were resting on your chin, his ass hanging over your breasts.
âOpenâ, he husked, raspy and throaty.
Still with your eyes closed, you parted your lips, and Joel shoved his beating cock down your throat unceremoniously. He leaned forward over you â his hands holding his weight off you, flat against the cargo bedâs floor. And then Joel started fucking your mouth mindlessly, as if it was your cunt â his testicles slapping against your chin and your eyes welling up.
He could feel your head almost rocking up and down below him with the strength of his thrusts. You only stopped swaying underneath him when your hands grabbed his buttocks, your fingers sinking in his flesh.
With a guttural growl, Joel came undone and his thick cum filled your mouth. You stayed still while the last white ropes spurted out the slit on his tip, finally reaching the bliss he had been chasing for a week.
Joel lifted his hips off your face and his dick came out of your mouth with a pop.
âEat it, kiddo.â He requested of you, towering above you.
From this angle, flat on your back and with Joel almost sat on your face, you saw first his balls and then his soft cock hovering over your eyes. What had just happened was filthy, and you loved it, even though you were sure that your throat would hurt tomorrow.
âItâs $300 if I swallowâ, you kidded out of nowhere, almost gargling with his cum as your mouth was full of it.
Joel chuckled as he came off you, sitting down on your left.
âDealâ, he agreed.
And so you gulped his cum down, letting it slip down your throat until it landed in your belly. You smiled at him before opening your mouth to show him it was empty.
Joelâs chest rumbled with satisfaction.
âGood girl.â
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knocks on your door bc i'm back n isn't that lovely?
tbh i kinda like oakheart, but he and blue rly met, hung out, then fucked which- accurate but damn ok
tho... if you're doing a bluesnow au and still want to add in misty, stone, and moss, you could totally have platonic oak and blue and he's like "sure, lemme help you add to your family with her" and is the platonic supportive edge blue needed
also you can't convince me that blue wasn't giving snow a lil goodnight kiss and said that she will commit war crimes for her (then proceeded to gut thistle like the now dickless bitch he is) like that is canon and real, i was there.
ohoh and totally see whitestorm never realizing he had a dad. someone asks him about it and he's just like, "my dad was the wind. idk his name and i honestly do not care to." (blue caused this but yk)
i also like the idea of them being adorable mates come fire joining the clan so he gets two moms and some siblings. (also imagine the sheer amount of angst you could write if tigerclaw killed snowfur and bluestar's mania really hit then-)
Anon you wanna get married
OAKHEART ISNT BAD thereâs just NO CHEMISTRY when they barely talked đ and blue doesnât feel anything abt the fact that he (very inadvertently) caused snows death
One night stand/platonic/whatever oakblue IS fun to think abt but I also like the thought of thrushpelt being their fathers :,) (ignoring the plot consequences by having them all live in a perfect limbo where everythingâs ok and theyâre HAPPY) no seriously blue deserved happiness and she got FUCK ALL!!!!!!!
Blue can have a little a morally gray by Accidentally having a fox or badger or monster kill thistle, itâs ok no one cares :) (and tiger Probably wouldnât be as evil either LOL)
White just had two moms that were sisters also itâs ok :) itâs fine ASHFKGK it would be so satisfying seeing him say âfuck youâ to his dad realizing how much of a dickbag he is. Thistle can be the divorced dad who tries yet still fails, thatâs all Iâll allow him
DONT MAKE ME THINK ABOUT THATâŚâŚâŚâŚ ouhhrhhhhgg fire seeing a healthy (for the most part) and respectful blue just fall apart in DAYS âŚâŚ.. Iâm gonna b thinking about that. Fuck you (affectionate)
#asks#AUGHHEHE he somehow killed thrush if heâs apart of this still#ouhhhâŚâŚ. maybe thistle can get a redemption arc going against tiger#ORRRRRR goes w him like darkstripe đ¤đ¤đ¤#no wait this worksâŚ. anon you helped me w my âI want this specific character to be happy#without changing TOO much of the canon but still having a decent amount stay the sameâ#like snow still gets hit. survives w injuries. blue rarely sees oak if at all. blah blah more plot happens#fire comes. tiger kills thrush and or snow. ok ok âŚ..#wtf I just looked up and thereâs an entire silverfish. on my window beside me#yes Iâm a bug fenatic but like âŚ. where did you come from#ANYWAY it would be a shame if someone drew this or exapanded upon it đ¤#out of blues life and plot idk if her kids actually like. have significance#so Iâm wondering if I can just exclude them entirely for simplicity LOL#hnng snow dies and how convenient that yellow shows up đ¤#I canât not give blue a girlfriend of some sort Iâm sorry (thrush is included in that btw)
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Unexpected Visitor
Pairing: Spencer Reid x G!n Reader
WC: 788
A/N: A lil Spencer Xmas Blurb while I figure my shit out. Also! I'm imagining older seasons Spencer for this one.
"Hi! I'm, uh, so sorry to bug you but, um, do you know where Spe--Doctor Reid's desk is? Or, really, where D-Doctor Reid is?" .
Derek Morgan had to get his shit together because his jaw almost dropped when you walked in. What was some hot piece of ass doing, dressed like that, looking for Boy Genius.
He jumped up from his chair and strolled over to where you had stopped Garcia, who was just as flabbergasted as he was. "Reid is currently in a meeting sweetheart--may I ask what you, uh, want with him?"
You raised your eyebrows at the 'sweetheart', but smiled anyways. "He was supposed to be home about an hour ago and he wasn't answering his phone, so instead of panicking, because I know what you do for work, I wanted to come in and check before I lost my shit."
"Home?" Garcia squeaked out, still baffafled by how gorgeous you looked. It was like you were sent straight from heaven, a literal vision.
You nodded and tilted your head, slightly confused. "Y-Yeah...I'm sorry why is that---"
"We just didn't know Reid was living with anyone, let alone seeing someone."
"Ah." You nodded. "He's private like that, isn't he." Your smile warmed the two of them, and you shifted the coat from one arm to the other.
"y/n?"
You turned your head towards the back of the bullpen, and Spencer was walking out of Hatch's office. "What are you doing here?"
"Being introduced to your friends and coworkers since you haven't."
Spencer bit the inside of his cheeks and walked over to you both, placing his hand on the small of your back. You felt how tense he was.
"I'm here because our reservation is in twenty minutes and you said you'd be home over an hour ago." You looked at Spencer, whose eyes went a little wide.
"Shit. I-I didn't realize what time it was---"
"I have your suit in the car, and this is why I made the reservation for eight pm, instead of Seven."
"And this is why I love you." Spencer kissed your head and rushed over to his desk, scrambling to grab all of his papers and his bag and his coat and his scarf and his--
"Hi Y/n." Spencer looked up at the mention of your name, pausing in his frantic nature.
"Hi Aaron." You gave him a quick hug, but a bright smile. "How are you?"
"Well." He laughed a little. "I'd be better if we didn't have to work the day before Christmas Eve since I still need to wrap all of Jack's presents still."
"Oh how is Jack!"
"He's doing well. finally starting to enjoy reading, no thanks to you."
You laughed at his joke, all the while Derek and Garcia just shared an incredulous look. How the hell did you know Hotch? Jack?!? Why does Jack's reading habits connect to you--
"Ready sweetheart?" Spencer appeared at your side and you nodded. "It was lovely to see you Aaron. I'll stop by some time tomorrow to drop off Jack's gifts as well as yours. I got it when Spence I and went to Paris last month. I think you'll enjoy it!"
"That's why you weren't here for two weeks?" Penelope's jaw was on the floor. "I didn't take you to be a Parisian man Doctor Reid."
"W-Well, um--"
"It was for my birthday. My choice. I love art and museums so it made sense. Well, it was lovely to meet you all but we have a reservation to get to." You gave them all a quick smile before taking Spencer's hand and walking towards the elevator, your shoes clicking on the floor with every step you took.
"How long have the two of them been together?" Morgan turned to Hotch after you both had gotten in the elevator.
"I think today is their two year anniversary."
"TWO YEARS." Garcia clutched her hypothetical pearls. "How have I not known? How have WE not known?"
"He's private, and...well. You know Y/n."
"No we clearly do not know Hotch."
Hotch gave them a little smirk and a shrug. "Merry Christmas guys. I'll see you on the twenty-seventh."
As Hotch walked away, Garcia and Morgan just stared at one another. "So we're..."
"Going to spend then next ten minutes in my office finding everything out about this mystery person Spencer has been apparently dating for two years?"
"You read my mind mama. A little Christmas snooping never hurt anyone..."
#x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid fluff#dr spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#Spencer reid x y/n angst#Dr Spencer reid x dr!reader#spencer reid x gn!reader#spencer reid x reader angst#spencer reid x male reader#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfiction
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hi bug!! for your shy!reader requests, idk if youâre going smutty w them but if you ARE: I love the concept of reader being generally pretty quiet, which extends to râs sex life bc theyâve never thought to b otherwise⌠enter Hawkinsâ own loudmouth DM who takes it upon himself to coax every noise out of reader that he can đđŤĄ
ty for requesting! here's my first attempt at smut on here since 2023 :D â eddie teaches his quiet gf how to be louder in the bedroom (shy!fem!r, smut 18+)
Eddieâs face appears from beneath the covers â pale cheeks flushed, chestnut hair wild. Heâs still got his ringed fingers wrapped âround your thighs, clutching you with the same intensity heâd had when his face was shoved between them.Â
He blinks at you with chocolate eyes and drags his tongue across his lip. His pink mouth is softly swollen with use and glittering with your honey. âIs this okay?â he slurs between labored pants.
You lift your swimmy head from the pillow and peer at him through the valley of your breasts, rising and falling with each deep breath. You nod until the words catch up to you. âYeah. Yeah, itâsâ itâs good,â you answer breathlessly, though you donât think that describes the half of it.
There arenât enough words in the English language you could string together to describe how he makes you feel. How good he is with his tongue. How youâre throbbing clit still pounds like a heartbeat for more of him.
âOkay. Good,â he huffs with a lazy nod.Â
His fingers fidget around your thighs when he shifts on the mattress, wincing slightly when his sensitive cock ruts against it. âI just⌠I wanted to make sure, you know? âCause you werenât⌠You werenât really⌠Saying anything.â
He forces out a chuckle to keep the honeyed mood light while horror floods your features. Your eyes soften around the edges with worry. âWhat was I⌠What was I supposed to say?â you squeak.
âNothing!â he answers quickly, eyes going wide when he senses your panic. âItâs just⌠Mostâ Most people moan when they feel good and stuffâŚâ His lip quirks in a lopsided smile before a laugh sputters from them. âI mean, youâve heard me. Iâm fucking loud.â
He is. Heâs more than loud, actually â full of gruff moans, pretty whimpers, and neverending praise. He never leaves you with an ounce of worry when youâre with him âcause heâs constantly rambling about how good you feel.
âFuck, baby, thatâs goodâ Oh, shit,â he babbled while he fucked your mouth, some minutes ago now. He whimpered after, high-pitched and faraway.âGonna make me cumâ so fucking hardâ in your pretty little throat. Fuck, angel. Fuckââ
You writhe on the mattress, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in your own skin.Â
You become acutely hyperaware of how bare you are below him, with his face mere inches from your glistening pussy and his chocolate eyes swimming with warmth. You feel more naked than you already are. Totally fucking see-through.
âSorry,â you murmur sheepishly. âI just⌠I guess, Iâm just quiet. I donât know.â
Eddie smiles like he isnât wearing your slick all over his chin. âThatâs okay,â he assures with an innocuous twinkle in his eye. âBut you donât have to be. You know that, right?â
You blink at him until you realize the question isnât rhetorical.Â
His smile falls into a mischievous smirk when you nod.Â
âBe as loud as you want for me, yeah? Make all the noise you wantâŚâ
âââââ
Heâs a menace.
Eddie Munson is a total fucking menace.
He doesnât eat your pussy like itâs the last thing heâll ever do. No, he takes his good and well time with you â like he plans on doing this, and only this, for the rest of his life.Â
Your inner thighs are slick with saliva. His spit drips down your ass, along with your honey, as his tongue laps mercilessly at your cunt. Slowly, gently, agonizingly. Itâs like he canât help but be so sloppy. Like he canât help but drool all over your pussy âcause he loves it so damn much.
âEddie, please,â you whine through heavy pants, clammy hands cradling your knees to keep them spread for him. âI wanna cum, Eddie. Please, I wanna cum.â
If heâs doing all this to get you talking, well, itâs fucking working.
His mouth smacks when it parts from your sensitive clit. The delicate button is as swollen as his lips are now. His pretty face is utterly blissed out â mouth rosy, eyes lidded, cheeks flushed. Like heâs found heaven in your pussy.
âShit,â he huffs with a crooked smile, still a bit breathless. âYou taste too good⌠Got me all distracted⌠Wasnât tryinâ to tease you, babe, I swear.â
He pulls back the sticky hood of your cunt with a ringed hand. You keen when his thumb rolls over your throbbing clit. âFuck, Eds,â you gasp â back arched, head thrown back.
âNeed it that bad, huh?â He chuckles quietly when your hips buck into his hand, desperate for more.Â
âPlease, Eds,â you beg with your eyes squeezed shut. Tears burn in the very corners of them, stinging like you might cry at how good heâs making you feel. At how badly you want him to make you cum.
Spit dribbles from his pursed mouth onto your already slick pussy. He rubs it in with guitar string-calloused fingers, and your toes curl into the sheets. âWanna cum?â he slurs, blinking slowly at your trembling form with pretty button eyes. âWanna cream on my tongue?â
You whine at the vulgarity of his words â and at the lightning strike that rushes down your spine when his merciless fingers graze your pulsing clit. Swallowing down a sob, you nod rapidly against the pillow.
Eddie kisses your pussy like he would your mouth. Your honey clings to him when he pulls away, smirking up at you with glittering lips. âThen keep talking for me, yeah?â
#published by bug#eddie munson x reader#stranger things x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things imagine#eddie munson imagine#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fic#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#st drabbles#eddie spaghetti drabble
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