When they were young, Leo always claimed he and Donnie were twins.
Donnie brushed him off every time.
"Go away Leo. We aren't twins," he'd say, affectionately annoyed, before returning to his books and his projects. A deterrent of sorts, a statement meant to send his brother away so that he could continue with his projects alone.
And for years, this is how it went.
And then, when they were around ten or eleven, as Leo was pestering Donnie in his lab, the mechanism that Donnie had been working on broke. Leo tried to pull the twin card, to convince Donnie to step away for a bit and hang out with his beloved brothers, and-- and Donnie had already been having a bad day. His nerves were fried. His senses were blaring at him. His shell was too thin and soft to play their games, anyways. So he did as he always did, on these days. He sent his brother away.
"We aren't twins, Leo! We aren't even the same species of turtle!! We CAN'T be real twins! Leave me ALONE!"
And for once, Leo left without an obnoxious quip. For once, Leo was silent. And Donnie turned back to his project.
When Raph barged into his room half an hour later, he was startled by the intrusion. He was even more startled by the anger.
"Donnie. What did you say to Leo."
"Go away, Raph, I'm busy!"
"Donatello. What did you say to Leo. Raph's serious."
"I don't quite understand the upset. I just told him we aren't twins, and we're different species, and to leave me alone. Nothing more than usual. Why are you mad?"
"Donnie!"
"What!!"
At this point, Donnie turned in his chair to face the doorway, giving Raph an unimpressed glare.
"Why would you say that?"
"I merely spoke with him the same way I always do! This is how we work, Raph, you know that! Now leave me alone so I can fix this piece of junk," He turned back to his work, pulling his goggles down to look closer at the wiring.
"No. Dee, you really upset him this time."
"He's fine, Raph. He's just annoyed that I'm too busy to play frivolous games with him at the moment."
"Dee, he's crying."
"Raph, you know I struggle to identify when you're lying, I would appreciate it if you didn't-"
"Raph's not lying. Mikey's with him right now. He's crying."
There was a beat of silence, as this sank in. Donnie froze in place, unmoving until Raph turned his chair around to face him once more.
"...oh. I- oh, no."
"Fix it."
He pushed his goggles away from his eyes, holding onto his arms and avoiding his brother's gaze.
"Raph, I- I'm not good with... feelings. I don't know how to fix this one."
"You broke his heart. You fix it. Apologize."
"He won't believe an apology, not if it's really that bad-"
"Fix it."
"I- okay! Okay. I'll fix it. I'll figure it out."
"Good. I'm going to do damage control. Don't follow. Leo doesn't want to talk to you right now."
For once, the lab felt too quiet.
--
The aftermath of their fight was hard for everybody in the lair. Leo refused to even look at Donnie for longer than necessary, and Donnie retreated into his lab for far more hours every day than he had ever done before.
Attempts to get the two to reconcile continually went poorly.
Splinter paired them up in a training exercise, and was met with one of their worst performances since they were barely old enough to walk.
Raph put together a Jupiter Jim marathon that neither accepted the invite to, each citing the other's presence as their reason not to come.
Mikey did his best to drag either of them to sit down with the other, putting on the Dr. Delicate Touch persona and doing everything he could.
Even April, when she came over to see the rest of the family, would only ever be met with three turtles at a time.
None of it worked.
There was something broken between the two of them, now. Something that, to the rest of their family, seemed unfixable.
A day passed, and then two, and then a week, and a month, and-- nothing.
--
And then their birthday came around. A month and a week after the fight.
Donnie snuck into Leo's room long before the rest of their family could awake, an oddly-shaped present in his arms.
"'Nardo, wake up. I need to talk to you."
It took a moment for Leo to wake up enough to register who's voice was there, but when he did, he rolled over and pulled a pillow over the side of his head once more.
"Go away Donatello. I don't want to talk to you."
"But-- it's important. Really important."
"What, like the fact that I don't want to see your stupid face? Go away."
"Leonardo, please."
His brother turned over once more, opening his eyes and giving Donnie a glare.
"What. What could possibly be this important."
"It's our birthday."
Donnie's words were quiet and stilted, practiced several times over until they were just right. Before his brother could turn back around, he gestured towards the large item next to him.
"I made us a gift. Happy birthday us."
"We don't have to share a birthday anymore, since we're not twins--"
"Happy birthday us."
And when Donnie unwrapped his gift-- nothing really made much more sense, despite his wishes. It was an oddly-shaped piece of tech, rounded and almost as big as he was, with straps connecting to the edges.
"What is that. How is that worth waking me up, when I don't even want to see you right now?"
It wasn't until Donnie turned it over that the gift began to make more sense. It was a faint blue-ish green, with three lighter circles running down its back in somewhat shaky paint. A mirror of Leo's shell.
Confusion spread across Leo's face as Donnie secured the shell on his own back, before looking up at Leo again.
"Now we're the same. We're real twins, 'cause we have the same shell, see? We're-- we're real twins, Leo."
There was a beat of silence, as the two stared at each other in the dark of night, before Leo reached over and pulled his brother into a hug. For once, Donnie didn't't deny it.
"This doesn't fix anything. You owe me like, big time."
"I know."
"In that case-- I missed you, Donnie."
"I missed you too Nardo."
--
It took time for them to heal again. For the awkward energy that filled the lair to dissipate and return to it's usual air. But eventually, eventually, Leo and Donnie grew back into their usual banter. Sometimes, it seemed as though the experience had brought them even closer than before.
The shell he'd made to mimic his twin's would become Donnie's first ever battle shell. Every iteration afterwards, as he grew out of them over time, would grow further from its original purpose. By the time they were solidly in their teens there was little hint that it was ever meant to be an imitation of Leo's.
That first shell is kept in Leo's room, though. Sat atop a shelf, and gifted to him when Donnie grew out of it, as a reminder that the change in shells didn't mean that they weren't still twins. Real twins. No matter what science had to say about it.
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MAKE HIM DO WHAT I SAY ♡
pairing: older bf!!logan howlett x fem!reader
summary: you and logan make a little bet. who can last longer without sex? as much as he wants to deny it, he's starting to think the answer might be you.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, brief daddy kink (one mention)
a/n: a commission for my sweet @sleepyluxe who i love so very much <33 this fic takes place after the events of dofp when things are fixed.
Seven days. One week. A quarter of a month. That's how long it had been since Logan and you had fucked.
It was brutal. Some may say he's being dramatic, but that's because they've never had the luxury of you. They couldn't understand losing a paradise they've never experienced. The past several days he's felt like a man wandering through a barren desert, the oasis in sight but never close enough to drink from. Absolute torture
Unfortunately, this situation came about because he couldn't keep his mouth shut.
You'd been getting some work done late last Sunday evening. Just a few plans for the upcoming school week. Your fingers punched away at your computer while Logan lay on the bed twirling a stray cigar between his fingers.
"How many more pages you got?" he asked, boosting his head up to glance at you.
At the sound of his voice, you spun your chair around to face him. "Not that many. Just finalizing a few details for the field trip they're taking the kids on next weekend," you said.
"You're not even going. Why're they making you do that?"
The fat stick of tobacco continued to glide between his digits. One of your legs crossed over the other as you watched him.
"I'm not going because I offered to do all the planning," you reminded him.
Your eyes stayed on the tantalizing movements of his fingers.
"You know you can't smoke in here, so don't even think about it," you said.
He rolled his eyes and puffed air through his pursed lips as if that was an outrageous warning. Sitting up, he put the cigar back in the drawer on his side of the bed. He rose to his feet and began to cross the room in your direction.
"Maybe you should give me something else to do with my mouth then," he teased, his voice lowering to the octave that reverberated with want for you.
Then it was your turn to roll your eyes. You turned your chair back toward the desk and continued grazing your fingertips over the raised letters.
It didn't deter him though. He kept on in your direction, stopping only when he was directly behind the backing of your seat.
His hands landed on your shoulders, fingers massaging the tight muscles fanning out from your neck. He leaned forward so his head hovered beside yours. You could hear each breath he took. The smell of that cigar lingered around his form even if he hadn't lit up tonight.
"C'mon, babydoll. You've been working so hard. A little break won't hurt you," he murmured, lips pressing against your cheekbone.
"I have to have these done by tomorrow morning. Just give me a few minutes, and then I'll be done for the night and completely focused on you," you'd rebuffed him gently.
But that didn't satisfy Logan. When he wanted you, he got you. He proceeded with his tender touches and luring pecks. You remained focused on your work though. He figured he should vary his approach.
"Just let me make you feel good then, honey. Give you some extra motivation," he whispered. His dedicated hands drifted to your waist, squeezing in a way that teased the idea of lifting you up and putting you on his lap. As good as it would've felt to be full of him, you knew you had to get this done.
"You're so bad," you said with a smile, head falling back a little as his mouth moved to your neck, "You act like you haven't gotten any in decades."
"Is that your way of telling me you're getting tired of me?" he teased.
"No. I'm just saying you're insatiable. It's getting to the point where I don't think you could live without me," you responded with a tone matching his in arrogance.
His eyebrow raised, and he pulled back a little to laugh. "That so?"
"Mhm," you nodded. Your sweet eyes stared him down, begging him to disagree.
Looking back, he wishes he could travel through time again to slap any further words out of his mouth. He should've just agreed! Should've told you that you were absolutely right. That he can't live without you, can't survive this life if he doesn't get to slip inside of you at the end of each day. He should've waited the fifteen minutes it would've taken you to finish your paperwork and then gotten laid.
But he didn't do any of that. He had to keep going and dig himself into a deeper hole.
"Don't act so innocent, princess. You're just as bad as me," he'd said.
"No way," you'd huffed, smirking with amusement, "I want you a totally normal amount. You want me like every second of the day. If you could, I don't think you'd ever let me do anything. You'd probably keep me chained to the bed, yours for the taking at all times of the day.
"Like you wouldn't love that. I'm not the one pawing at you every morning, whining about how bad I need it," he taunted.
"Oh shut up, that's happened like a couple times. Every day you're right in my ear, feeling me up. You practically drag me away from what I'm doing when you wanna fuck," you fired back, "I am nowhere near as bad as you."
And then he'd spoken the three cursed words that launched him into this predicament.
"You wanna bet?"
You laughed more at that and nodded again. "Sure. Because I know I'll win."
And that unofficial vow of celibacy was why the two of you had been dancing around each other for the past week. He was starting to feel like that old love song counting the amount of time it'd been since he had you beneath him last. Fifteen hours and seven days or however it went.
You didn't make this trying time any easier for him either. That night he went to sleep with blue balls. The next morning, he woke up to you getting ready. You weren't dressed in your usual style of clothing though. Instead, you had on a dress, Logan's favorite dress of yours. You'd styled your hair real pretty too, letting it compliment your features in the best way.
As his heavy lids blinked open to consciousness, he watched you fasten a shimmering necklace over your collarbone. It sat just above the neckline of the chiffon fabric that adorned your bust.
You caught his waking eyes with your own in the reflective glass, turning to look at him with a bright smile.
Despite his bleary vision, he could hear the light steps of you prancing over to him. The mattress dipped with your weight as you sat down and leaned in to kiss his forehead. Your fingers slid through his dark hair just the way he likes, with your nails scratching his scalp a little. Worst of all, that close, the scent of your perfume became all consuming. It hit him harder than normal. He wasn't sure if he should blame you or himself for predicting the trials of the coming days.
He hummed in acknowledgement of your presence and nuzzled into your palm.
"Hey, sleepyhead," you cooed, your voice extra soft and sweet. It was too caring to be seductive, but of course, that's where his mind went anyways.
"Hey, baby," he'd mumbled.
"I gotta go drop off that paperwork, but I'll see you later. I love you," you whispered in return before laying one more column of kisses from the tip of his nose back to his forehead.
Then you'd left, leaving him half-hard and yearning for you. A pattern that would plague him over the next week.
Each day it was some new form of torture. The day after that, you'd worked extra hard in the danger room, coming back to him at night covered in a light sheen of sweat. Your heady natural scent filled the bedroom in moments.
The following afternoon, you wanted to cuddle when you both had some free time. The fact that you draped your leg over his torso, slotting your clothed cunt right against his hip, inches away from his cock, was pure accident of course.
Over the last few days, your games have become less specific. You peppered your speech with innuendo. Looked at him with your fuck-me eyes and spoke in the tone you always used seconds before he ended up bending you over the nearest surface.
He tried to fight back, he really did. He stopped wearing a shirt in your shared room. Every time he talked to you, he made sure to rub your ass or stroke your cheek. He was so desperate he stooped to embarrassing levels of lovey-dovey when the two of you were alone. But no matter what he tried, it seemed like you'd been right. Of your pair, you had the superior restraint.
With each passing hour, his frustration grew.
Today, it reaches its zenith.
The mansion is empty because it's Sunday. All the students and other teachers are out on the trip to the observatory today. You and Logan are the only remaining residents in the school. He ended up not having to tag along with the rest of the group after volunteering to fix the sprinklers bordering the school's patio. Babysitting kids had never been his forte even with all the practice he gets at it now. Simple handiwork he could do no problem.
The two of you take the morning to sleep in. This was a rare occasion where no early meetings or classes occupied your schedules. You stay tangled up together well past sunrise.
Logan is the first to leave the warmth and comfort of your embrace. He pulls himself from the nest of pillows and blankets, stretching his limbs out as he does. He rubs the tiredness from his features before rising and heading to the wardrobe to pull on some clothes.
In addition to his normal black t-shirt and jeans, he grabs the tool belt on his way out to the lawn. He slings it around his hips before walking through the back door. Heading past the basketball court and rows of hedges, he finds the line of leaking sprinklers besides them. It would probably take him a while given that he had to first identify the source of the problem and then recalibrate all of them with the adjustment.
He sighs but gets to work. At least he'd have a distraction from the desires haunting him.
Crouching in the dewy grass next to the little faucets, he begins examining the hard plastic shells. To his surprise, scanning for breaks does attach his mind to the task and give him a brief reprieve. It's quiet outside. Besides a small chirp from a distant bird or a grunt out of him, no other sounds echo over the open space. The sun shines in the sky, but it's not beating down on him. The air tickles his skin with warmth but not to the point of being miserably humid.
All the conditions meet in the perfect middle to keep him calm. It's the most peace he's had since he agreed to this bet between the two of you.
But all that tranquility is shattered about a half hour later when he hears the patter of footsteps against the stone pathway. From around the tall thicket of green foliage, comes you. Your face breaks out into a smile the second you burst into his vision. He would look the same if not for what you'd decided to wear.
You trot over to him across the grass in a pair of tiny black shorts with lacy frills on the hems. They sway with each of your movements, highlighting the shape of your legs. A gray camisole graces your upper half; a delicate white bow sits at the center of the collar, dead center between your breasts. The fit of the garment displays the contour of your chest just right. He feels like he's gonna start drooling before you make it near.
Despite his reaction, the outfit wasn't that provocative. It wasn't like you'd strutted out in lingerie. But he was so pent up that a flash of your ankle in the proper lighting could probably get him hard.
Bounding up to him, you wrap his body in a tight hug. Every curve of your form presses up against him.
"Look at you, working so hard," you praise playfully with a kiss to his cheek.
He laughs it off, returning the hug in an attempt to be normal, so you wouldn't see how vulnerable he was right now, how this was the perfect opportunity to strike. He couldn't let you know that in this moment, he could easily become the prey.
"Were you missing me already?" he asks, rubbing his free hand up and down your spine.
"Mhm. Woke up and you were gone," you reply. You nuzzle the crook of his neck, planting a few electric kisses on his skin.
"I didn't wanna wake you. You're pretty cute when you're sleeping," he mutters.
"Well now I'm gonna be cute out here with you," you say and pull back. You peck his lips one more time before plopping down in the grass behind him.
He glances back at you to see what that means. All you're doing is sitting there. Your legs extend out in front of you, straightened for his eyes to rake over. You lean back with your palms against the moist greenery below you.
"You don't got anything better to do with your day off?" he asks.
That earns him a small pout. "If you want me to leave, I will. I just wanna spend time with you."
He can tell by your tone that your intentions aren't so innocent. You're leading him into allowing your presence. But denying his girlfriend has never been one of the wolverine's strengths so of course, he acquiesces.
"Relax. I'm not telling you to go anywhere," he says as he turns back to his work, "I just don't think this will be that interesting to you."
"Watching you do anything is interesting to me," you joke back.
He rolls his eyes and gets back to work.
At first, things are smooth as before. He continues messing with the small, bendy pipes. You're quiet behind him. Almost too quiet, but he lets it go for now since he thinks he's found the source of the malfunction.
It doesn't take long to patch up. The more difficult part is going to each individual head and fixing the tightness. His fingers twist the little knobs to the correct settings. He then turns to you when he's finally done.
The sight of you feels like a gust of fresh air filling his lungs. You're laid out where you were before, but you've reclined across the ground. One of your arms is sprawled outwards, soaking up the sunlight while the other lazily covers your eyes. Your shadow outlines your figure against the emerald blades below you.
You look luscious and ripe, like a precious fruit ready to be picked and devoured. In any other circumstance, that's exactly what he'd do. He'd spread you out further for him and take you apart piece by piece. He wanted your nectar running down his chin with each savoring lap of his tongue. He craved the feeling of your heat wrapped around him, your walls massaging his shaft during every punishing thrust.
Imagining it now only gets the blood pumping down South to his hardening length.
He runs a hand over his hair and sighs. Why didn't he do that now? What was the point of this stupid fucking contest? It's not like there was anything on the line. The only stake was his pride, which to be honest, he'd already compromised for you multiple times over the course of your relationship.
Unbuckling the leather from his waist, he discards the tool belt. Next he peels his shirt from his body and tosses it to the side.
He makes his way to you on the grass. He drops to his knees and leans forward. His muscular frame cages you in against the ground. Starting at your navel, he drags his nose up your body. He coasts over the valley between your breasts and past your collar bone. His soft exhales breeze across your throat before he finally reaches your cheek. With a gentle pull, he clears your arm from your face.
Your eyes flutter to adjust to the sunlight beaming down on them again. They take in the vision of him so close to you and the way he gazes down with adoration.
"Hey, pretty girl," he says, his voice much softer than it'd been before, "You falling asleep on me?"
His thumb rubs over your jawline while the other strokes the crown of your head. A smile blooms across your lips. You can't help it with how he's behaving.
"No... well, maybe a little. I think you were right. Sprinklers are pretty boring," you say.
He grins and leans in to kiss your lips. With the exchange he hopes to communicate everything he doesn't want to say. I give up. You win.
You reach up and cup his scruffy cheeks. Your tongue swipes against his lips, sensing his longing for intimacy. He allows you in, and you deepen the connection. A long breath oozes from your nostrils.
He presses you down against the ground further as your hands slide over the little white streaks in his hair. Your fingers embed themselves in his locks. You feel his hands sliding down your body. They stop at your hips and give the plush flesh a squeeze.
It's obvious what he wants, but in case there was any doubt, his digits then hook around the top of your shorts and give them a tug.
A giggle bubbles up out of you against his mouth. You pull back to look at him with smug eyes.
"Is that your way of admitting I was right?" you ask.
He grumbles and ducks his head down to start kissing your neck. "Don't get cocky or I'll change my mind."
That makes you laugh more. You yank on his hair and pull him back up to look at you.
"No you won't," you tease and brush your noses together. Looking into his eyes again, you can see how bad he wants this. "Just say it."
"Say what?"
"Say you're giving in. And that I win. And that you can't live without me."
He gives you a blank stare. Silently, he contemplates if there's any way around this. He wonders if there's a way he can avoid utter humiliation.
"C'mon, baby. Throw an old dog a bone," he grumbles.
Giggling, you shake your head. "Nuh uh. I wanna hear you say it."
He sighs and rolls over, pulling you on top of him. You straddle his hips with learned ease. Your smile glows from this angle. The sunlight above cascades over your frame and only further accentuates your body in your tight clothes. He rubs his hands up and down your sides. His dick is already at half-mast under the denim that covers his lower body. Your heat rests right on top of it, teasing him through the barriers of cloth. It dangles what he could have if he gives you what you want right before him.
The words that challenged you and created this trap for himself came out so easy. Why couldn't these be the same?
To coax him along, you grind down the slightest bit. The pressure's so light and gentle, a mere graze of your mound on the outline of his growing bulge. He hisses at the feeling.
"Just admit it," you say, planting your palms on his chest, "Just say I was right and you were wrong."
He watches you above him, knowing you're not going to drop this. If he wanted this self-invoked dry spell to end, he'd have to make it happen.
You roll your hips down with more force, impatient to hear him comply with your request. A small whimper leaks out of you. He can tell from that sound alone that you're getting worked up. That arousal is beginning to collect between your thighs.
The thought of it makes his need for you almost biological. His hands clamp around your waist and press you down harder. He rocks his up a little to meet your own movements.
"I need you so bad, princess," he sighs, his eyes shutting as he takes in the dull pleasure of you on top of him.
"Then you can say what I told you," you tease.
"What was it again?" he asks as he continues dragging your covered pussy back and forth along his now fully hard shaft.
"Say you're giving in. That I win. And that you can't live without me," you remind him, visibly proud of your victory.
With a sigh, he repeats, "I'm giving in. You win. I can't live without you."
You smile and laugh as if it was the best thing you'd ever heard. Your head falls back with glee before coming up so you can see his face again.
"Actually, can you say that again? I'm gonna grab my phone. That way I can film it this time. I just wanna have a record-" you continue to tease, but you're cut off by your own squeal when he grabs you and flips you back over onto your back. He keeps you quiet by smashing his lips against yours as your back thuds against the grass.
This kiss burns hotter than the last one. His mouth moves with bruising passion as he pulls your shorts down your legs for real. You help him by kicking them loose. His hands roam around over your smooth skin.
He glances down and finds what he thought he felt. No panties.
Eyes flitting back up to you, he shakes his head. "You were gonna give in anyways," he accuses.
"Yeah, but you gave in first," you giggle.
A small growl rumbles in his chest, but he still leans in to pull your tank top up. He brings it across your stomach, letting your breasts fall free as he bunches the material above them. He cups the plump flesh, taking a look at the beauty he holds in his palms. You watch him in the fleeting interval in which you're forced to separate.
"So... since I win, what do I get?" you continue to gloat.
"My dick inside you," he answers as his fingers yank his zipper open and shove down his pants in a similar fashion to your shorts.
"But I'm gonna get that anyways. I think I should get a real prize," you say, aiming to stoke the flames higher.
Your hips get hauled closer across the grass, so fast that you're in danger of having green smeared across your skin.
"I don't think you'll be complaining in a few minutes, ya little brat," he mumbles.
His fist pumps over his cock as he lines it up between your legs. The leaky tip smears some precum over your folds before he slides inside. He groans as he sinks in, cherishing the feeling after the week of its absence.
You're quick to adjust to the stretch. With a sharp breath, your back arches off the grass. He had already snapped back and slammed in again. You knew he wouldn't be patient after being deprived of this. Watching him above you, your eyes study how his chest puffs in and out with harsh breaths. His strong arms extend down on either side of your head, his fists holding clumps of grass between them.
It's a gorgeous view, but you know it can't beat the feeling.
"Closer..." you whine and grab at his shoulders, pulling him down so he's right on you and smothering your body against the turf, "Missed you, old man."
"How many times have I told you to quit it with that?" he asks as his pelvis begins setting a rhythm.
"Enough to know that I'm never gonna," you say. It's the last thing you can get out before moans shatter your plans to speak.
His warm flesh pounds against yours over and over. Your body rocks with the bounce of him on top of you. It feels so good. The world feels bright again, like you'd transitioned from an existence of black and white to living in color. It was so open out here but also so empty. Like you and him were the only two people on earth.
Your voice tapers off. Words become second to whimpers of pleasure. His hands grope the swell of your ass before returning to your sides for steady leverage.
"We'll have to work on that then," he grunts, "If you're not gonna stop, I'll just have to make sure you can't speak at all."
You preen at the idea, clutching at his muscular shoulders and back. He pants right next to your ear. Each stroke drives deep into you, brushing a spot that had ached for him to touch it again.
"Never wanna go that long again," you babble around whines.
"Me neither, baby. Think you were right. Not being able to feel this pretty little pussy every day almost killed me," he says.
A rush of euphoria flows through you upon hearing that. Your moans become more breathy, more full of need for him. You grab one of his wrists and tug his hand off your hip, pushing it in between your legs.
He knows what you want. His fingers apply some pressure and rub at your swollen bundle of nerves. Immediately, he's rewarded with a whine out of you and a buck from your hips.
"Impatient," he huffs between a set of deep thrusts.
"I won," you retort, "I get to do what I want."
Even in the heat of the moment, he chuckles at your petulant tone. His hips keep rutting against you on the grass. He's sure his next task of yard-work will be covering the mysterious indents in the soil out here.
"I needa cum, Logan," you whine several seconds later, "So close."
"Yeah? You need it, sweetheart? Need to let it out after keeping it from me for so long?"
Your head bobs up and down in an enthusiastic nod. "Please, please, please."
"Well, it's like you said. You won. So I think you can finish when you're ready."
"Mmmm- o- ok..." you whimper out.
Your hips roll up and down to reciprocate the fast pace of his own. He's battering right up against that special spot inside you that makes your mind blank and your eyes gloss up.
With a handful of whimpers, you cum. Your face scrunches as your cunt tightens around him. His fingers keep up the same rhythm on your clit, swirling around the little bud through your pleasure high.
"That's my girl," he praises, "Let it all out for daddy."
Your body seizes up at that command. Every cell of your being somehow knows to obey. You stumble over words and let them leave your lips half formed.
He keeps driving into you as you're coming down, chasing his own release. You're well into the territory of overstimulation now, all parts of you fizzling like a lit sparkler. Your thighs quiver against his sides violently. They lock around his waist when you finally feel him slam in and drain himself.
A loud groan erupts from him. He makes no effort to restrain it given that only the two of you are here to hear it. He fucks it into you, ricocheting himself against your center a couple more times and letting every last drop pour into your dripping hole.
When he feels sated, at least for the moment, he reluctantly pulls out. He takes a couple deep breaths as he watches a bit of his cum ooze out of you. It didn't matter though. That wouldn't be the last load you took today.
His body topples over next to yours on the natural ground. You both lie there for a few moments catching your breath before you roll onto your side to look at him.
You just stare for a few moments. Your eyes roam along the shape of his face to the slope of his jaw and the curve of his chest. Leaning in, you kiss the space below his ear.
He responds to the touch by curling his arm around your waist and pulling you to his side.
His head turns to meet your loving gaze.
"I think we have some more time to make up for," he says.
You respond with an eager nod and hop up to your feet. Both of you pull on the basics of the clothes you'd been wearing before and rush back into the mansion, giggling as you stumble through the halls like a couple of lovesick teenagers.
The door to your room stays shut for the rest of the day. You spend the remaining hours you have enmeshed in each other; intertwined with him enough to recover from the lack you'd put yourself through.
Logan doesn't venture beyond the barrier of your shared sanctuary until the sun has gone down and darkness coats the halls of the mansion. He walks quietly, taking his steps carefully to ensure none of the wooden planks beneath him creak.
All he had to do was go downstairs and grab you some water. In and out. Five minutes. But as he rounds the turn into the room, Scott's already there, looking through the fridge. He freezes and stands there awkwardly in his black tank top and loose sweatpants.
Having heard the sounds of his footsteps, the other man glances over at him.
"There you are. Didn't see you around when I got back," he says simply.
Logan shrugs, trying to play it casual. He walks across the room toward the cupboard that holds the glasses. The other man's eyes follow him. He can feel that even through the scarlet shades on his face.
"Haven't seen your other half either," Scott continues.
Logan can tell from the tone of his voice where this is going.
"Don't call her that," he scoffs, forever downplaying his attachment to you, "She's tired. She's upstairs sleeping."
"On her day off? I wonder what would have her so drained," Scott replies. His tone is flat in contrast to the little smirk on his face.
"Don't start," Logan says. He goes to the fridge to fill your cup with water. The trickle of the fluid is the only sound in the room until Scott keeps going.
"I didn't say anything," he says, raising his hands in surrender, "Only that this is the best mood you've been in all week."
"A couple hours without you around does wonders for me," Logan grumbles, wishing the liquid would pour a little faster.
"I'm sure. A couple hours with no one else around. Just the two of you after you've both been stiff the whole week," he taunts, "It's ok to admit you're whipped."
Finally, the cup is full. Logan takes it and turns away, holding one finger up as he walks from the kitchen.
"See you tomorrow, Scott."
"Yeah. Tell her if she's feeling sore, she can skip the early meeting," he says with a little laugh.
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Not so sneaky sex (pt.2)
ʚ synopsis: after Geto catches you and Gojo fucking, you both let him join
ʚ cont: fem reader, eiffel tower position, throat fucking, dacryphilia, dirty talk, unprotected sex, cum eating, multiple orgasms, rough sex
ʚ note: this can be read as a stand alone, but pt. 1 is here
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ ࿔
"S-satoru fuck, Satoru let her breathe-" Suguru groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as he wrapped his hand around Satoru's wrist, weakly pulling at it to get him to back off a bit for your sake. "She can take it, can't you pretty girl?" All you could do was moan around Suguru's cock in response as Gojo ruthlessly fucked you into his best friend's pelvis, your throat forced to open up for Geto's cock as he pressed your head down on him.
Geto choked at the feeling of you moaning around him, the sound going straight to his balls. Tears were long streaming down your face from Gojo's mean thrusts. Your nails dug into the bed and Geto's waist as you gripped him for dear life, his much larger hand cupped over your own and weakly tangled with yours as he tried his best to comfort you through taking his dick down your throat.
"Tell me how good her throat feels, haven't fucked it in a while." You whined when Gojo gripped your waist with both hands and fucked into you harder, his balls slapping against your now overstimulated clit. You could feel another orgasm creeping up on you already, and you weren't sure how many more you could take before you finally collapsed.
"Fuck-" Geto groaned, his large hand leaving the back of Gojo's on his head to caress your cheek as he looked down at you lovingly, adoring how good your lips looked wrapped around his cock. You did your best to look up at him, but the tears of overstimulation were making your vision blurry, causing you to blink rapidly. Geto groaned at the view of you staring at him with furrowed eyebrows nonetheless.
"Just how long have you two been fucking?" Geto asked, his lips pressing together just as you felt his cock twitch in your throat, making you cough around him. Gojo laughed at his question as he stopped his hips flush against yours, rolling them in circles as he rubbed your sweet spot deep inside you, making you see stars. "Hmm… I don't know." He said, pretending to think by rubbing at his chin and looking at the ceiling as he continued rolling his hips against your ass in excruciating bliss.
You reached up and grabbed Gojo's hand that was pressing your mouth down on Geto's cock, silently asking him to let you go. "Oh? Wanna say something, baby?" He asked, relenting and letting you take a breath, all the while keeping his pace against you. You had nothing to say, you just let your orgasm wash over you as the top half of your body collapsed against the sheets, your nails digging into Geto's throat as you held onto him like an anchor as your orgasm assaulted your body.
Gojo cursed, a strangled laugh leaving his lips when he felt your cunt strangling his cock like you were trying to milk him for all he was worth. He started up a pace again, fucking your orgasm from your body and prolonging your pleasure in the process. "Shit…" Geto cursed, covering his mouth with his hand as he watched you unravel on his beat friend's cock, his other hand leaving your own to wrap around his throbbing cock, stroking it as he watched you.
"She was gonna choke if she came while my cock was down her throat," Geto groaned, "You need to be more careful, Satoru." he chastized, making his best friend swat his hand at him in retaliation. "Nahh, she doesn't like when I'm careful, that's why she fucks me." You almost blacked out when Gojo wrapped his hand under your body and found your clit, rubbing it in circles and effectively turning your brain to mush as your head repeatedly knocked into Geto's thigh from his rough thrusts.
"Is that true, pretty girl?" Geto asked, cupping your face while leaning down a bit, never slowing down his thrusts as he fucked his own hand. You were slow to respond, nodding limply for a while while whines and curses left your lips before you found your words. "He's so- fucking mean," you cried, making Geto pout for you, but you didn't fail to notice the way the corner of his lip curled up a bit at that.
"But you like when I'm mean, don't try to get sympathy." Gojo pouted, rubbing your clit faster while adding more pressure. "Suck him off again pretty, I wanna watch him when he cums down your throat." You looked up at Geto and noticed he was sharing what looked like a heated look at Satoru, one that made you clench harder around his cock.
"I'll be gentle," Suguru whispered, looking back down at you as he helped you regain your balance and sit the front half of your body up. Your mouth was watering as you focused on the way Suguru was jerking off just in front of your lips, a heavy bead of precum pearling in his pretty slit before dripping onto the sheets below you. You leaned forward and took him into your throat easily since you had him in your throat before.
The groan that left Geto's lips sent electricity shocking down your body, threatening to push you over the edge again. You wanted to whine when Gojo pulled out abruptly, heavy pants leaving his lips. You couldn't hear any slick sounds from behind you that were telling you he was jerking off, so you were confused as to why he pulled out like that. You just focused on breathing through Geto's deep thrusts into your throat.
"What's wrong Satoru? Did you almost finish again?" Geto teased, running his nails across your scalp. The action was calming, making your lids flutter before they fell as he relaxed your body. You so badly wanted to bed for Gojo to put his cock back in, but you were enjoying this little break. "Yeah, almost came when you put it back in her throat." He said, making you furrow your eyebrows together. You almost did too when you heard Geto groan. Is that why he almost came?
Geto was stupidly hot and had the voice of a god, you weren't shocked his deep voice almost made him finish too. Your back arched and you held your breath when Gojo started slipping his cock back inside you, the stretch of him feeling so satisfying, like he was meant to be inside you. "Wait for me." Geto said, his cock throbbing inside your mouth, "I'm not gonna last like this anyways."
"You never told me how it feels. C'mon, don't be greedy." Satoru pushed, thrusting into you at a steady pace again, not as hard and fast as before, but it still felt good especially when he started slowly rubbing your clit in circles again, almost soothingly. "It's so tight, and warm." Geto started, looking down at you as you looked up at him, meeting his beautiful slightly purple eyes. "Yeah?" Gojo asked, his thrusts growing almost sloppy and a little faster.
"Yeah, she's sucking me in when I pull back too, it's like she doesn't want me to leave." Gojo wasn't the only one getting off on his words in that slightly raspier voice than normal, from sleepiness and arousal. You squeezed around his cock, your lashes fluttering every time you took him to the back of your throat. "Fuck, keep talking." You would have cracked a smile if you could, Gojo was fucking loving this.
"Every time she moans I can feel it in my fucking stomach, Satoru." He groaned, petting your cheek as he shook his head at you while looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. You whined around him, making him shiver, his long eyelashes fluttering before he tipped his head back. "I'm gonna cum." He groaned, his nails against your scalp raking a bit harder as he got closer and closer to his high.
"Me too." Gojo groaned, his hand digging into your hip as he brought you back on his cock, your ass slapping against his pelvis lewdly with each thrust. "Cum with me baby, cum all over my cock, I need to feel it you know I do." Gojo cooed at you, his hand that was grabbing your hip moving to caress down your spine, making goosebumps break over your skin. You whined harder around Geto's cock when he started rubbing your little clit faster, trying to force your orgasm out of your body, not that it needed much coaxing.
Geto's breathing picked up, as did his sloppy thrusts right before he pulled out. He grabbed your chin with his large hand, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb. Your moans instantly fell freely from your lips, only making both the men fall faster into their highs. "Open your mouth, baby, I wanna cum on your tongue." You groaned at his words before you let your jaw open, your tongue peeking out between your lips as you looked up at him expectantly, gripping his hip harshly as he stroked himself off at a furious pace.
"Oh shit," Gojo whined, you could feel how bad he was shaking behind you, obviously trying to hold out until you and Geto came so he could watch the show before he was fucked out beyond his mind and unable to comprehend anything as he came. He could tell it was about to be a hard one. Just as you felt yourself tip over the edge, Geto's body went rigid, his breath reaching a halt before he broke.
You flinched when the first spurt of his cum landed on your cheek. He groaned long and loud as he released all over your face and tongue, his head falling back in bliss as he shakily jerked himself through his orgasm, making an absolute mess of you. You cried out when you felt Gojo cum inside you right when you came. The moan that fell from his lips made your stomach do summersaults as your orgasm wracked through your body.
"Fuck- fuck- f-fuck." Gojo repeated the curse over and over as he thrust against your ass each time he came. His body was shaking violently, his abs tensing and unsensing against your lower back as he curled over you, his body weak and spent as his half-hard cock kept twitching while he was buried deep inside you. Suguru sat down on the shitty motel bed, one leg straight, the other curled as you laid your head on his thigh with Gojo's body crushing yours as he caught his breath.
"Holy shit." Geto groaned, wiping his dirty hand on the bed before he ran it through his hair, getting the strays out of his flushed face. "You're telling me," Gojo replied, his voice weak and muffled from his cheek being squished against your back. You were going to let him keep crushing your body until you swear you felt him drool on you. "Close your mouth Satoru, yuck," you complained, weakly lifting your arm to swat him away. He only tangled your fingers together and pressed your conjoined hands against the sheets.
"Shhh…" He replied, sounding like he was seconds away from falling asleep. You were relieved when Geto started running his hand over your scalp, his fingers tickling the back of your neck when he caressed there. "You have to pull out Satoru unless you want her to kick your ass when you give her an STI." He joked, reaching down your back to flick his sweaty forehead.
Gojo groaned, lifting his head slightly to pout at his friend. "I'm giving her aftercare, 5 more minutes." He replied, his heavy head slapping against your back once more. "I don't know how laying on me with your entire weight is aftercare…" You added, rolling your eyes at his antics. You closed your sleepy eyes when you felt Geto place a soft kiss against your forehead as he started to get up from the bed. "I'll run a bath, when I'm done if he's not off of you, I'll take care of him." You smiled at him sweetly, reaching for his hand and pressing a kiss to the back of his hand in thanks before he walked off to the bathroom to run you a much-needed bath.
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