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coweye · 2 months

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The Honda Odyssey

Logan Howlett x Reader | smut | 6k words Summary: The car fight reimagined and it only needed to be like 10% more erotic than the original.

I got carried away. I just love Wolvie so much. I'm so happy Logan is getting the adoration he deserves. Long live the Wolverine renaissance.

Warning: smut, p in v, ass play, foul language.

If you had to pinpoint a moment when your life became the shit show it had steadily developed into, you’d say it was the moment you auditioned for X-Force.

In your tenure as besties with Wade Wilson, it's fair to say things hadn’t gone smoothly. The man was a conduit to all things fucked up, but you adored his loose morals and quick mouth. The idiot in red had weaselled his way into your heart and became something of a brother to you and more recently a roommate.

Now, if you’d have told your younger self you’d be in your late twenty’s sharing an apartment with a burn victim who regularly staples a toupee to his fucking head and a coke-head, blind, old African American woman, you’d have laughed in their fucking face.

So, you’d like to think that as these things go you are pretty damn well adjusted but traversing the multiverse was a bit of a stretch, even for you.

One moment you’re at Wade’s surprise party, the next your ass has been zapped to the TVA and you’ve been given a sacred mission; to accompany Marvel Jesus (Wade) and protect the sacred timeline.

Naturally you’re fucking mind blown, you’re a low-level mutant, fuck, you couldn’t even join the X-Men. Your particular set of skills were a dime a dozen and your flagrant disregard of rules had made you a ‘poor candidate’.

No, the mutant powers you had been graced with weren’t extraordinary by any means. You were basically an off-brand Captain America, just without the gorgeous cheekbones, patriotism and righteous need to do good.

In layman terms, you are strong as shit and have an accelerated healing factor. Not quite the same level as Wade’s mind you. You have, give or take, an inconvenient five-minute turnaround on the more fatally debilitating wounds.

To say you were unqualified was an understatement and to say you were reluctant was a simple fact. A fact you repeated, loudly to anyone that would listen as you were bathed in rich black leather.

“I think maybe you meant to grab negasonic teenage whatchacallit… she’s great, super powerful!” You continue. “Did you mean to get Domino or Colossus or maybe one of the X-Men? “

“No Miss Y/L/N. We have not got the wrong person for the job.” The man you later find out is called Paradox, calls out as you re-enter the operation headquarters. “Mr Wilson requested your presence; he wanted your assistance on his mission.”

“Y/N/N… ten out of ten, baby girl, I one hundred percent would bang. I’m talking raw dog, Barry White on a rug, let’s go all fuckin’ night.” Wade hollers in his own brand-new suit and even you must admit, you look fucking amazing. “Sweet angel, we’ve just gotta’ come up with a superhero name for you!”

You are enrobed in rich thick black and teal leather, your first ever hero suit and it’s a fucking good one. It doesn’t cling, but instead pulls you in securing your flesh and extenuating curves, ones you hadn’t entirely realised you had. The bottom half your face is concealed with a mask, carefully crafted to follow the contours of your nose and cheekbones.

You’d barely recognised the mysterious figure in the mirror.

“Right?! Tailor was pretty handsy though!”

“Oh yeah, ha! - that man is indeed a predator.” Wade says with a chuckle and a fond sigh.

It shames to you to say but that’s when you stopped fighting this whole thing. You looked the part of a hero; you thought that maybe the TVA knew what they were doing. That they had seen something in you and knew that you had a good heart under all the darkness that lingered on the surface.

Wrong.

You were just a demand Wade had made. He wanted his number one disciple at his side whilst he carried out his sacred mission. You were part of an attempt at appeasing him whilst they destroyed your timeline.

Little more than a pawn to be used whilst they manipulated him into a false sense of security.

Thus, you were thrown into a series of events far beyond your control when Wade being Wade decided you were hunting down a Wolverine to stabilise the timeline, only to be once again fucking zapped into some place they called the void by that little English shitbird named Paradox. It’s entirely accurate to say that you were a little less sturdy than your compadres.

Unfortunately for you, the fall from such a height into the void was fatal. When you finally awake in the desolate wasteland to the sounds of blades clashing it is disorientating to say the least.

Forcing yourself to your feet you lower your mask and gasp in the sweet strangely stale oxygen as you stretch out your newly healed spine with a groan. It was impossible to tell how long you were out as you take in the scene before you; Wade and the Wolverine are engaged in a heated battle. From the looks of it, Logan is winning this fight despite being the human equivalent of a knife block with Wade’s katanas protruding from his chest.

For a moment you pause, perhaps its head trauma that hasn’t healed (He’s fucking Deadpool, he can look after himself for two minutes) and appreciate his form, the Wolverine the two of you had kidnapped was gorgeous. Tch, as if there was any other kind.

Sure, you were biased you’d always been somewhat of a fangirl, but the Wolverine was objectively breath-taking.

You’d indulged in comics whilst growing up but when you found out he was real and looked the way he did, hell, Wolverine was your sexual awakening. He was the first man to make you feel that tingle in your lower stomach. Yes, you may have been thirteen years old, a ball of puppy fat and social anxiety but you’d been waiting for him ever since.

You’re snapped out of your reverie when Wade loses baby knife in Logan’s shoulder blade, finally you spring into action. In good time as well as you’re not sure if even Deadpool can survive decapitation.

In the singularly most stupid act of your life you throw yourself in front of your friend’s body. “Wait, Wait! Please!”

Wade has paused behind you, you can feel him weighing up the situation, pausing for a moment to see what you’re going to pull out of the bag.

“The TVA they can fix it, whatever you did, whatever made you the worst Logan, they can fix it! – They have the power to end universes, but they also have the power to fix yours! Help us get back there and we can fix both of our worlds! I promise, they can fix it.” You plead, it’s not quite a lie exactly, more of an Educated Wish than anything.

Okay it is a lie, but you’re sure that the TVA can most likely, probably, maybe fix his world.

Logan’s eyes lock with yours in that moment you can see that he wants to kill you both and be done with it, but that hope won’t let him. You feel a smidgen of guilt for the deceit, but frankly you’ve done worse for less. Your world was on the line it wasn’t the time to pull your punches.

Fast forward four exhausting hours, two periods of unconsciousness and one flaying to find yourself sat opposite Wade gagging down cold spoonful’s of Spam in some dusty ass diner.

You were no better than a man as you watched the Wolverine.

Those arms, those thighs, the way he had beheaded Sabretooth without even breaking a fucking sweat. You wanted him to wrap those instruments of death he called hands around your throat and fuck you dirty until the sun came up.

It had been a long exhausting day and you had been soaking wet for most of it.

Shit, could he smell that? Does that count as sexual harassment? You’d have to ask Wade.

Logan, however, was utterly dismissive of your advances in the face of what was undoubtedly utterly horrific past trauma. Something you were trying to be understanding about, but self-pity in a man, it just turned you on. I said you had some surface layers of darkness.

Unable to help yourself you gaze at him as he opens a bottle of rubbing alcohol. You are utterly entranced, watching the thick chords in his throat bob as he takes a swig.

That tanned skin where his jaw ends and neck begins, slick with sweat and dirt. You’d love to sink your canines into the strip below his ear. He must feel your stare on him as he looks up and catches your eyes dark with lust already surveying his person.

It should embarrass you, that every time he peers your way, he catches you gaping at him like a lovesick puppy, but there’s something about Logan you can’t quite put your finger on. The man heats your blood like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, maybe it’s that torch you’ve carried for him since girlhood, maybe it’s the thick thighs you’d kill to ride – who can say for sure?

In what you assume is against his better judgement, he comes to perch on the booth beside you. His broad shoulders cast an imposing figure as he gets close enough that if you were to move your hand a couple of inches to the right, you’d finally be able to touch that yellow fabric that plagued your tween dreams.

You’re burning up at the thought of him, unable to stop yourself you part your legs slightly to ease some of the pressure. Logans nose twitches, his head swivels your way and his eyes catch your own.

Welp - at least you have your answer about him smelling your arousal.

Deciding that you were most likely verging on sexual harassment charges you decided to focus back in on the task at hand, gagging once again at another spoonful of spam.

“Be a good girl and swallow, Y/N/N, you know the rules!” Wade jokes, your chortle was your only response. What could you say? He always hit your funny bone despite the ocean that was raging in your panties.

Logan stares at Wade for a long moment before turning to your way and addressing you for maybe only the fourth time today?

“What are you doing with this fucking clown? You his sidekick? Following him round to laugh at his stupid fucking jokes whilst he gets kids killed?”

“Why I have never.” Wade is faux outraged at his words, clutching his imaginary pearls as the Wolverine throws around accusations that aren’t entirely untrue.

The Wolverine’s expression remains stern as his eyes track your face. They seem to be evaluating your character and from the flare in his nose and crease in his brow you can guess he finds you lacking. You’re embarrassed to admit how much that deflates you, so you do what you do best; you deflect.

“I could follow you around and laugh at your jokes instead, if you like?” When you speak your voice has a sultry edge to it and there’s no mistaking your intentions.

Logan seems to think on your proposition for a second or two, before he huffs grabs his rubbing alcohol and unopened can of Spam and heads over to sit at the bar.

“Holy hot ham and cheese on rye, Y/N, you fucking slut.” Wade berates you though his voice is as light as it’s always been as he boots your shin under the table. “Trying to your holes filled by Wolvie during a world saving mission, Marvel H Christ, stay on fucking task!”

You swear you hear Logan mutter a Jesus Christ from the bar.

Though as Wade continues irritating the hero hunched against bar, you can’t help the realisation that he didn’t say no.

“You’re uh… well regarded in our world.” Wade complements, being real doesn’t come easy to him. You appreciate the effort.

“Well, I’m not shit in mine.”

“I tried to join the X-Men because of you.” You speak up finally joining their conversation. Wolverine’s back goes rigid, but he doesn’t respond. You’re not sure if he’s waiting for you to continue or hoping you’ll stop. “You made a difference to this world, made me think I could do the same. I just never quite make the cut.”

Logan doesn’t seem to have a response.

It seems your words have an effect as you catch him watching you more often. When Wade makes his jokes, he looks to you for validation of his withering looks.

You’re probably more distracted by this revelation than you should be when the three of you come across a real nasty variant of Colossus seeking out Wade for… you want to say… revenge?

The not-so-gentle-anymore-giant flips the Honda and tosses both Wade and Logan through the treeline as they advance on him as if they were little more than toys his mother had asked him to pick up.

One by one your bullets ricochet from his metal skin as he comes towards you. You aren’t built for this fight; you are completely and utterly outmatched.

All you’re doing at this point is buying yourself some time for your backup to pull themselves from the rubble, however during a particularly spirited cartwheel the metal oaf finally gets his hands on you. Colossus’ metal palm is cold on your throat, and you could swear you hear your neck snapping before you feel it.

With a gasp you return to life to find a slightly dishevelled Logan standing above you. By the grace of god, his sleeves have been worn away in the fight, his arms, oh sweet lord, his arms are on full display.

“Thought you were a goner.” He offers you a hand when you simply stare mutely his way. Locking your fingers around his wrist he pulls you to your feet. You don’t release your hold on him and neither does he.

“Don’t throw the party just yet, eh?” You joke weakly, for a second you could swear there’s a slight raise of the corner of his mouth, imperceptible, if you didn’t know what you were looking for. In the past few hours you had become an expert on Wolverine’s face.

Your mouth is dry as you take in his thick sweat laden biceps.

“Where’s Wade?” You query whilst rolling your aching neck as you haven’t heard his voice in a record thirty seconds, Logan suddenly remembers himself and drops your hand.

“’fraid Metal man took your clown, was pissed with him and can’t say I blame the guy.”

“Shit.” You sigh rubbing your temples as you kneel to pick up the dismembered arm of your best friend. “Well – fuck. That’ll take him a few hours at least to grow back – He’ll be so sad about his suit.”

You peel the fabric from the limb and tuck it under the breast plate of your own suit. Wade will want his glove back when it grows back.

“He say where he was taking him?”

“Oh yeah, that along with his plan for world domination...” Logan huffs as if your mere presence annoys him.

“Thought you didn’t like sarcasm.”

“I like sarcasm just fine, Bub. It’s you I don’t like.” You can’t help but smile his way at the comment made at your expense, his brows crease. “You’re a strange one.”

“Can you do your sniffy thing?” Its impressive, you thought he’d reached the limit with his scathing looks towards Wade, yet he somehow manages to pull a deeper frown out the vault especially for you.

“Sniffy thing?” His words are spoken with such derision, it turns you on a little. You realise that perhaps you are in fact a deeply troubled individual.

“Oh, sorry.” You pretend to clear a frog in your throat. “Please, oh, please, beautiful, handsome Wolverine, please can you locate my bestest pal with your heightened sense of smell?” His face doesn’t break despite your hands clasped in front of your chin.

“You’re just as fucking annoying as that moron.” He huffs “Get in the fucking car, we’ll follow his trail.”

“You can smell him from the car?”

“The blood, Jesus Fucking Christ, there’s a trail of blood.”

“Ah.” Is all you reply as you find your seat in the passenger side and start your own one on one team up with Wolverine. Its not exactly the way you imagined it, but beggars certainly can’t be choosers.

After a few moments of sullen silence, you decide that there’s no time like the present to form a long-lasting bond.

“What’s your world like?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Okay... What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they can save your world? I bet its something boring as fuck, like team-“

“What did you just say?”

“I bet you’re gonna do something boring like-“

“No before that.”

“What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they save your world?” You question, his sudden interest in your words takes you by surprise as he has been vacant from your conversation.

The breaks suddenly shriek as the car comes to a stop.

“What do you mean if?”

“I…”

“You said they could fix my world. Undo it all, is what you fucking said.”

“I mean I think they can!”

“You fucking liar.” The edge to The Wolverine’s voice is terrifying. The realisation trickles down your spine, Logan has been nice to you all this time, you’re finally meeting The Wolverine.

“I didn’t lie!” For some reason you’re ashamed of your deceit, you’ve murdered countless people and still, you’ve felt less remorse. Logan’s eyes pin you in your seat as disgust clouds his face. It hurts more than you can fathom. “Not exactly, I think they can fix your world! – I needed your help and if you killed Wade there was no hope for my universe!”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about your universe!” He spits your way; his hands are gripping the wheel in what seems like an effort to keep his cool.

“I know, but I do!” You cry back at him. “You know how to save the world, you’re the fucking Wolverine! I know how to kill people, but this hero shit, this isn’t me!”

“Ha! No shit.” There is pure hate in the man’s eyes as he stares back at you.

“Please, you’re Logan. Whether you’re the worst one or not - You’re still better than me.”

“Get out of the fucking car.” The words come from between clenched teeth and are filled with warning.

“No – fuck you.” Your rage breaks the banks to meet Logan’s. Perhaps it’s the guilt, maybe it’s the fear for Wade but something within you snaps at his constant bad temper. “It was an educated guess and a fucking reasonable one at that, get the fuck over yourself you big bird wannabe geriatric fucker! “

He slams his palms on the steering wheel, his nose flares and his teeth clamp together. “Fuck me? Fuck you – you sad pathetic excuse for a side-kick. No wonder the X-Men wouldn’t take you, and they’ll take fuckin’ anyone. You are a ridiculous, immature, moron who spends her days following around a fucking clown to avoid facing the reality that you are no one. I have never met a sadder, more attention starved asshole in my entire life. You were right about one thing, you’re no fucking hero.”

Its shameful the way your stomach drops, and your eyes involuntarily begin to tear. To hear your hero say the words you’ve thought about yourself whilst laying awake at night. It’s a knife to the gut.

“Nothing to fucking say, huh, Angel?” The use of Wade’s nickname for you is like sandpaper on your skin, it rubs you the wrong fucking way.

“I am going to hurt you now.” Your voice is barely a broken whisper.

“You’re going to hurt – “His faux chortle is cut short by a swift punch to his face. You’re worried you may have been overzealous with your swing when his nose begins bleeding. The Wolverine is stunned for only a moment before he grabs the back of your neck and proceeds with smashing your face into the dashboard and those concerns are quickly put to bed.

The old fucker is strong, but you don’t think he’ll kill you, yet another educated wish.

“Not so tough now…” He shouts as the radio channels change with your skull. Pulling a knife from your leg strap you embed it in his thigh and pull the lever to recline your seat whilst he’s distracted, luckily, you’re not there when he swings for retribution.

Though one of his fucking steak knives catches your upper arm slicing through the leather. Warm blood trickles down your arm, staining the beige interior of the poor Honda.

Your legs are your strongest asset, so when he attempts to restrain you with the seatbelt, you are presented with your window of opportunity. You wrap them around his neck as you pivot your hips slamming the Wolverine headfirst into the metal of the door. Once, twice, three times - on the fourth he lands a fist to your gut, luckily, he has retracted his claws.

If he was willing to kill you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.

You’re winded struggling to catch your breath from the gut punch, but you manage pull the knife from his thigh that is nestled between your legs and thrust it into his neck, you aim for the spot you’d fantasied about kissing before he’d torn your character apart piece by piece, now you just want to bathe in his fucking blood.

It was the pain that instantaneously made his claws extend. He’s quick to move them, though he slices through the sides of your suit as he buries them in the chair behind you. Your ribs are a bloodied mess though you don’t care, in a few hours they’ll be good as new.

Logan has seized the opportunity and has your arms pinned to your sides, his blood has cooled a little more than yours, he doesn’t seem to want to murder you over an argument.

Perhaps he’s more well-adjusted than yourself, that thought alone should concern you, except it just enrages you further.

“You stupid fuckin-“The Wolverine starts admonishing you, before you swing your head forward and headbutt him.

Yes.

You really do that.

You headbutt the man with the adamantium fucking skeleton– at full strength. Its sheer dumb luck you don’t crack your own skull in the process– maybe Logan was right, you are fucking dumb.

“Fucking fuck!” You cry grabbing your forehead and writhing. Noone wins with a headbutt, except Logan apparently.

“Fucking stop that.” Your writhing has pushed your core against his crotch, and he is already packing quite the heat at what feels like half-mast. He grabs your hips to stop your movement, but it only seems to push you closer. “Stop fucking moving.”

The constant arousal you’ve felt since meeting him returns in double time, Logan’s nostrils flare and his eyes darken. It’s debased and you’re ashamed that you want him, you haven’t stopped wanting him, despite the awful fucking words that left his mouth minutes ago.

“Like … a little pain Wolvie?”

Its relief you feel, you think, when instead of answering or punching you in the face, he closes the gap.

The Wolverine’s claws retract, and he grabs at your chin. Logan’s mouth utterly devours your own, your front tooth clashes with his own as you push yourself upwards, you pull your knife out of his neck, catching his grunt of pain on your tongue as you begin licking your way down his thick throat.

The vein you’d spotted hours ago is throbbing freshly healed, you sink your canines into the flesh and its as good as you’d fucking imagine. His groan is utterly beast-like as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.

The Wolverine’s throat tastes like salt and iron. Thick, tangy and warm on your tongue as you soothe the bite. It drives Logan wild, thrusting his hardened member against your warmth. One of his gloved hands rises to lock on the back of your neck to pull you into yet another earth-shattering kiss. His sharp hot tongue slides against your own, exploring the expanses of your mouth like its his to claim.

You bite at him again then, your teeth catching his bottom lip sharply. Logan groans into your mouth before you use every ounce of your enhanced strength to throw him backwards against the dashboard.

He is taken utterly by surprise as his head slams into the windscreen cracking the glass with a grunt. When he looks your way Logan’s eyes are blackened with desire, he is utterly wild.

Slowly as if afraid to make any sudden moves, you unzip your combat boots, your eyes never leaving his. One boot and then the next.

You thank the TVA’s tailor for making your suit a two piece as you shuffle backwards into the backseat, pushing the thick leather down your legs all whilst maintaining eye contact with the beast leaning against the dashboard.

“You sure you want this Darlin’?”

“Darlin’?” You question mockingly, your voice lowering to imitate his own, as you wantonly spread your legs, your bare leg resting next to the headrest. Only a pair of black cotton panties separate him from your most intimate parts and his eyes are locked on your clothed core. “a second ago it was ‘Pathetic Moron’ to you.”

Your head tilts in question as his eyes lock back on your own, you think perhaps for a moment something akin to regret passes over his face, but you’ve never been entirely comfortable with feelings, so you drop your hand into the waistband of your panties, you’ve barely circled your opening with your pointer finger before he’s on you.

“That’s my job, you fucking Moron.” He plunges two bare thick fingers into your heat. Gasping you throw your head back against the headrest, it’s a tight fit and its been a while but the slight burn eases some of the aching in your core. “You’re fuckin’ soaking wet, you like it huh, bub? Making me bleed?”

Your grab his jaw, your nails digging into his flesh. “I’d like to bathe in-” He scissors his fingers finding that spot inside you and you let out an embarrassing noise, somewhere between a gasp and a moan. “-Your fucking blood… you mean motherfucker.”

You’re an absolute goner when he starts rubbing your clit, after a day of foreplay your body seizes, and you grab at the nape of his neck trying to find something to anchor you down. But as fast as the build was you come tumbling down just as quickly, when he cruelly withdraws his hands.

“No! - Wha- what the fuck?!” You’re almost crying as your torn from the precipice.

Logan flips you over onto your stomach before you can complain any further, your face down on the filthy upholstery as he pulls your panties from your hips. You can’t see him from this angle, though you can feel his warm hands tracing the globes of your ass.

You force your knees further apart, pushing your bare soaking pussy against the tight bulge of his yellow suit. If you had enough of your facilities about you, you’d be embarrassed that you’re currently rubbing your cunt against The Wolverine like a bitch in heat after he’d chewed you out only minutes ago.

Logan’s hand dip between your thighs, his fingers swirl along your hole, dragging your wetness along to your aching clit.

“You think I’d make it that easy?” He asks as he continues the journey back and forth. On the second pass he dips his finger inside of you for a fraction of a second before resuming its path. “What do you want, darlin’?”

You weren’t going to beg, in fact you bit your tongue to stop the traitorous words from forming, this man had already made you abandon most of your self-respect, he wasn’t having this.

“Logan…” At your breathy words the man leans forward, pressing his fabric covered cock into your ass as he folds his body over yours. One hand comes down next to your shoulder, the other explore your tits as he rocks himself into your throbbing core. It’s the perfect storm as he nuzzles into your exposed throat but somehow you manage your words. “Fuck me or don’t, I’m not begging, bub.”

He exhales through his nose in what you guess is equal parts amusement and annoyance, but you’re far beyond caring. He places a bite on the spot where your throat meets your shoulder as his body pulls back. Momentarily his hands leave your hips to deal with his own pants. You hear the clank of his belt hitting the car floor moments before you feel the head of his cock, running along your folds.

The head of his cock is thick, and it feels hot to the touch as he runs it along your slick. All of a sudden Logan pushes forward and sheathes himself inside of you with a single thrust.

You try your best to hold in your incoherent moans but to little avail as he pulls back before slamming full force back into you. If you were a human woman, your pelvis would’ve shattered from the force of his hips against your ass, instead you gather your strength and push back, allowing him deeper. The both of you moan in unison at the depth he reaches.

You grab onto the foam of the seat, ripping through the fabric with your bare hands desperate for an anchor as Logan unforgivingly pounds into you from behind, once again he folds his body over yours, wrapping a palm around your clawed fingers.

“.” He grunts something incoherent into your ear as he picks up the pace, slamming into you repeatedly, slowly picking up his pace. Your core is positively aching as you throb around him, pulling him deeper within you. If you were expecting any further explanation, you’re sorely disappointed.

The wolverine pulls back, gripping at your hips keeping you still as he resumes his powerful strokes. Logan’s hand dips to your clit, rubbing quick circles sending you barrelling back towards your orgasm. As you begin to clench around him, he pulls your body upwards, his head brushing against the top of the car as he holds you against him his fingers never leaving your clit.

“Come on my cock, Angel.” Unable to stop yourself you clench around him, hearing him talk like that does something primal to you.

You fucking loved Logan’s mouth, you bet he ate pussy like a champion if he played the clit this fucking well.

You stopped fighting it and threw yourself from the cliff, shattering in his thick muscle veined arms as he held you up against him, his cock still viciously plundering your depths.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He whispers against your neck whispers peppering it with bites.

Logan gives you a few moments to come down from your high before he resumes his punishing pace, you think perhaps you’ve reached your limit of pleasure, that the threshold can’t possibly be topped until he whispers into your ear in that gruff voice.

“What was it Wilson said? Filling all your holes?” The Wolverine asks, his eyes meet yours over your shoulder meaningfully, asking permission as he offers you his thumb. You merely moan your approval and wantonly draw his finger into your mouth, soaking the pad in saliva.

Logan yanks your head into a vicious kiss. It’s a messy one, filled to the brim with need. The hand not currently locked on your neck holding your face to his, travels down your back, through the valley of your bodies. The pad of his pinky runs appreciatively over the globe of your ass, before his hand dips into the crease.

Logan’s thumb runs teasingly against the tight ring of muscle, it’s a foreign experience which makes you startle slightly.

“Anyone ever fucked you here?” He asks as he bites down your neck, delicately pushing you forward until your head rests on the backseat. You shake your head as your eyes close, his cock is buried balls deep within you as he plays with your asshole.

When his thumb finally breaches your tight hole just past the nail, he begins his thrusts once more. His cock fills your pussy from behind and suddenly you feel so fucking full, Its far too much for you.

“Fuck… Logan.” You gasp almost on the verge of tears as pounds you into the back seat. It seems the ass play has gotten to him more than expected, as his pace has increases.

“Where?” He asks breathless from the exertion as he pulls his thumbs from your ass and takes a handful of the meat on your hips.

“Inside…. Please … Logan.” You practically beg though you’ll never admit it, his rhythm becomes stunted as his hips slam into the back of your thighs.

“Give me something tight to come in, Darlin’.” Moaning at his words you’re eager to obey as you reach your hand between your own legs and rub mercilessly at your clit. The unforgiving pounding, the grunting and the fingers currently bruising your hips and the burning of your now vacant ass send you sailing over the edge.

You clamp down on him like a vice, groaning unable to hold back your whimpers anymore as he finally bites your neck and pumps his seed deep inside you as far as it can go. Logan grunts like a beast as he pulses deep inside of you.

Logan collapses beside you. Dents in the interior of the van you don’t even remember making have appeared from where a stray elbow or knee has hit the metal in the throes of passion.

The Wolverine tucks his cock back in his suit. Ever the gentleman, he uses your black panties to wipe away the cum dripping from your thighs, you haven’t got the heart to tell him that when you’re commando redressed in your suit that you can still feel him dripping from you, your pussy uncomfortably slick against the leather.

After dressing, the two of you sit in contemplative silence. Neither one of you has the emotional complexity to discuss what happened and neither one of you will accept fault for your argument that led to it, so, silence reigns.

The tension is sliced in two as Logan leans forward and pushes an errant lock of hair behind your ear in an act so goddamn endearing, you melt. You still wouldn’t apologise for lying, because you didn’t lie but you can meet him a quarter of the way.

“I’m sorry for calling you geriatric.” You whisper catching his eyes, a small spark of humour leaps into them, you’ve seen more emotions from your hero in the past half an hour than you knew he was capable of.

“I shouldn’t have-“ Logan’s heartfelt apology is cut off by the lead of this goddamn story.

“Well, well, well. Would you look at this, My best friends, Ha! I get fucking kidnapped, an arm ripped off and you’re nowhere to be found? I thought don’t worry Wade, they won’t leave you, Y/N/N will come around that corner any second."

Wade has appeared through the passenger side window; he looks a little worse for wear and has a child’s arm growing from his stump, its kind of gross to look at.

"What if Colossus had had his way with me? What then Y/N? I expect this from Wolvie, but not from you! No, no heroic rescue for old Deadpool. I have to save myself because you fuckers are too busy playing hide the adamantium bone! Thanks for nothing guys. Now the car has old man sex stank to it, as if this hunk of shit Honda could get any worse!”

#deadpool #wolverine deadpool #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #james howlett x reader #worst logan #logan howlett x you #wolverine smut #wolverine x you #graphics by saradika

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tonycries · 3 months

Text

The Way You Kiss Me - G.S.

Synopsis. The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friend’s pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesn’t.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! Suguru’s sister! reader, childhood enemies to lovers, PINING Satoru, like really really disgustingly down bad, creampíe, oral (fem receiving), pússytalking, needy JEALOUS! Satoru, running away from it, spítting, punching is Suguru’s love language, mentions of aIcohol, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 7.4k (That’s wild)

A/N. BOO! Surprise upload. This was so fun to write omg.

“You sure this is how the grown-ups get married?”

“Duh, I know everything.”

“Nuh uh, Toru.”

“Yuh uh!”

The first time Gojo Satoru kissed you was underneath that dingy playground slide that the two of you always raced to after elementary school.

Usually, your older brother, Suguru, would walk home alongside you two - but this time, he’d just so happened to have been held back for throwing paper planes at the teacher that day.

A sign from the universe, Satoru internally celebrated, something he’d learned from those sappy romance novels his mother left lying around the house. No matter that he was the one that made those planes.

You were six back then, standing in front of a determined Satoru - reaching up on his tip-toes, face pink, smelling of those cheap strawberry lollipops he’d sneak into class and taunt you with. At the much older and wiser age of seven, he’d insisted on being the first one to lean in.

Just barely even grazing your dramatically puckered lips before-

Satoru learned two things that fateful afternoon:

Even as a seven-year-old, Suguru’s punches really hurt.

Never mess with you. Anyone but you.

Life only seemed to go downhill from there - because that last lesson was proving to be hard along the years. Really. Fucking. Hard.

Little did Satoru know that this would be the start of some strange, unpredictable little dance of push and pull. No, you definitely weren’t his wife. Nor were you exactly best friends - not really, that spot was reserved for your brother. But you didn’t think you could ever be just that either.

And the punch that’d knocked his wobbly tooth out onto the playground floor that day was a painful reminder that whatever that was - whatever weird thoughts he had later in middle school about how you’d tasted like candy - didn’t matter. No matter how part some tucked-away little part of him wanted it to.

Hell, eleven years later and Satoru still can’t walk around that familiar block without feeling slightly queasy. Which is why, after that failed first kiss, he knew there wouldn’t be a second.

Instead, he settles back to teasing your pouty self, pushing all your buttons, tugging on those cute dresses you wore. Face burning so strangely with- humiliation? when you bickered right back, calling his haircut a “tragic attempt at modern art.”

“So you’re saying I look like art?” A gangly, now-seventeen Satoru blocks the bustling high school hallway, ignoring the bell. Grin only growing at your frustrated huff, he half-jokes, “Aww, if you’re that soft on me, sweetheart, maybe we should go to prom tog-”

You slam your locker, effectively shutting both it and Satoru at the same time. “I’d rather go with Yaga.”

“...you would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would- Sugu–!”

And all Suguru can do is wrap two hands around his neck, mock-choking himself, wondering if it was really too late to embrace a quiet life as a monk. “You’ll both be MLA cited in my farewell note.”

He was used to it, though, forced to watch all this chaos since quickly mending his friendship with Satoru over ice cream the day after the punch. Convinced that this was some punishment for a past life’s misdeed.

With a squawk of protest, Satoru’s turning back to you, eyes crinkling with a hint of mischief you knew too well, “Would not.”

Your face burns, “Would to, Toru.”

You didn’t go with Yaga. but Satoru didn’t exactly count that as a win in his books, either, because you did show up that night hanging off the arm of some jerk from the football team.

And there you were, all dolled up - which he very objectively noted - way too prettily for some bastard like him. Stars in your eyes, and everything he couldn’t have in that smile.

Everything.

Way too gorgeous, even when he finds you sitting outside the gymnasium later on in the night. Too busy bawling your mascara off to even throw out your usual greeting insult his way. Murmuring out wetly about “that asshole” and how he humiliated you by stranding you in the middle of the dance floor for someone else.

“Well, he was a jerk anyway. Even Yaga would’ve been better, hell, I-” Satoru stops short to his horror at the way you only cry harder.

Way too irresistible, especially as his body moves before his mind - holding out an open hand before he knows it. “I’m a much better dancer than him and you.” And oh Satoru will forever remember the way his heart lurches as you blink your teary eyes up in confusion, “Well, aren’t ya gonna take up the challenge?”

Weirdly, it wasn’t weird at all.

If anything, you had to hold back your laughter the entire time at the way the great “campus sweetheart” Gojo Satoru was so on edge.

Just a friend comforting a friend, right?

So why was he avoiding your gaze with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, summer blue eyes pointedly trained right over your head. That pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks reflecting the hands hovering in midair over your waist. So close - and yet, fear in each and every turn and swirl.

Yours were searing into his broad shoulders as you tried to guide him to the muffled music from inside. And shit.

That night ended with a second kiss.

You don’t know who leaned in first, just that Satoru’s soft lips were just fleeting on your glossy ones - barely even a touch. And that shit shit shit- this was Satoru. This was you.

Everything.

But it seems that every time Satoru was about to kiss you dangerously close to the way some tiny, forbidden part of his heart wanted to - the universe throws an obstacle at him. An obstacle that was six feet and named “Suguru”, currently running at break-neck speed out of the gym.

“MOVE YOUR ASSES!” he cackles, “THE FOOTBALL TEAM ISN’T TOO HAPPY ABOUT ME BREAKING THEIR STAR PLAYER’S NOSE.”

And not a word is uttered about the kiss as the three of you speed out of the school parking lot in Suguru’s busted-up black hellcat, the wind mussing up the hairstyle that took Satoru over two hours to perfect. Sneaking in glances at the sight of you singing along at the top of your lungs to some overplayed pop song on the radio.

He learns another two things that night:

Apparently, Suguru’s right hook still really fucking hurt. And thank god for tonight’s casualties of noses, because it was a wonder that he didn’t look too hard at how close Satoru was with you.

He didn’t…dislike the feeling of your lips on his. And judging by the way you meet his eyes in the rearview mirror - you didn’t either.

It’s mainly that last one that makes him gulp.

Neither of you remember the third kiss - though, Satoru’s sure that at least 80% of Shoko’s instagram followers did.

According to a very hungover Shoko, and the many, many forms of documentation, it had happened on the New Year’s eve during your third year in university. In which you were much more used to the raging parties that would be hosted at Suguru’s apartment, and only slightly less intimidated by them.

“And you’re a lightweight too, dumbass. You were gone.” Shoko sighs from across the café table, eye bags deeper than the last time he’d seen her. “Like gone gone.”

God, what a way to start the year.

Satoru bites back a remark about how “gone” Shoko herself had been. Sitting up straight in his seat, regret immediately hitting his senses faster than the guilty throbbing at his temples. He winces, managing out a semi-disbelieving groan of, “Gone gone?”

And she’s only nodding wearily, subconsciously tapping out the rest of her cigarette ashes onto his untouched plate of sweet pastries.

“I’m talking dancing on expensive coffee tables and fighting to stop you from giving everyone there a strip show.” She cracks a smirk through a waft of smoke, “Though, she would’ve loved that I’m sure.”

“Har har har, you’d make even Nanami laugh with that one.”

“Eugh, gross.” Shoko taps through her phone briefly, swirling it around to show Satoru a few pictures that definitely gave him a mini-heart attack at 8:57 in the morning. “You look like you’re about to pen really bad poetry.”

And perhaps this was Shoko’s plan all along - to shock Satoru to the core hard enough that she can note it down as one of her sketchy psychological experiments.

But he knew. Could feel it in the hazy fragments of memories - or, at the very least, in that entire highlight that Nanamin had oh-so-conveniently put up on Instagram titled, “Blackmail.”

You knew.

You’d kissed him back.

“I don’t have a-.” you slur, stumbling ever-so-slightly as you try to meet Satoru’s glassy eyes. Because shit the years have had him shooting up faster than you could look up. “-a New Year’s kiss, y’know.”

You were older - more gorgeous, if that was even possible now. That tight dress hugging your body so unfairly in a way that had him forgetting you were his best friend’s sister.

The one person in this whole world that he couldn’t have.

But Satoru leans in closer, more because he wants to than anything - he could pick out your voice anywhere let alone over the thumping music currently filling his crowded living room. Lips loose as he tries to play up the cool-guy facade he’s been dubbed with since freshman year, “Hah, loser. Because I do.”

“Where?”

At this, Satoru is stumped - damn, you were good.

“Not- uh here?” If he was in any clearer state of mind, he’d have been embarrassed at the way his voice cracks so traitorously as your unsteady hands pull him in closer by his overpriced button-up.

Your body was flush against his now, so addictive. Gaze half-lidded and flickering between the sliver of milky skin exposed on his chest - from that impromptu striptease he’d almost started earlier - and the blue eyes that were currently locked you. You whisper a strained, “Liar.”

Close - too close. So dangerously close.

He breathes out against your lips, the smell of booze and you so heady in his mind. And the heavy words falling from his lips sound like lies, even to him. “Not.”

“Toru?” you hum, a sound that has him gasping. “Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And there went your New Year’s kisses. At exactly 11:37PM, if the photos were anything to go by.

And holy shit were there many. All of which showed your arms looped around Satoru’s neck, crashing his lips to yours. His own, resting against your waist, a scandalously red blush - whether from the alcohol or you - adorning his cheeks. Looking more blissed out than he ever remembers feeling.

“I’m a dead man, Shoko.”

There’s a lengthy silence, leaving Satoru stewing in thoughts of how Suguru would react once he finds out. And whether or not he’d be able to rise from the dead just to see how pretty you’d look at his funeral.

Morbid thoughts broken only by Shoko’s cough, “Hey, can I keep your eyes for experimentation if he actually catches you?”

Subtly, he sends himself those photos from last night.

Luckily for Satoru’s eyes, they never ended up being donated towards Shoko’s questionable contributions to the world of medicine.

And by some grace of the gods above, Suguru never mentioned a word about the kiss that would’ve inevitably made its way to him. Or maybe it was because Satoru stole his phone until he managed to pester Nanami just enough to take down that highlight. But, semantics.

His heart, however, might as well have been part of some experiment.

Because it’s been working overdrive since that night - mind reliving that moment over and over and over and- shit, he’s fucked. So, so fucked.

Fucked enough that it took Satoru months just to muster up to even look in your pretty eyes once more, unless he wanted to get lost in them forever. Fucked enough that he dared to wonder again and again when there might be a fourth kiss - if there would be a fourth kiss.

He just never thought it would happen the way it did - with you, standing outside his front door.

“I’m sorry, Toru.” you mumble, “It’s just- I think we both need to grow up.”

You’ve freshly graduated now, looking more and more irresistible each time he sees you - even when you’re looking at him like that.

Rolling his eyes, “Ha, is this another way of saying you want my secret to getting taller? Because the first thing is to-”

“I’m serious, Satoru.”

And oh how he wished you’d say something - anything - else right now. Call him anything but that. Maybe even throw an insult his way, tell him those new sunglasses look ugly, or about how you got that internship he would’ve died for.

Satoru manages to choke out a heavy, “I don’t understand.” But that uncomfortable coil of something curling at the pit of his stomach said otherwise. And it causes him to finally breathe out a hesitant, “Maybe you’re right.”

As if that was all the answer you needed, you’re stepping out of the front door. Slow, and deliberate like you were giving him another chance - a thousand more. Sighing out a defeated, “It’s been years.” It has. “And we’re just running in circles.” You have. “I’m starting to think this is just some game to you.” It wasn’t.

“Wait!” he grasps your hand - soft. The look in your eyes even softer as you turn around to face his desperate face. “Please, sweetheart.”

Satoru doesn’t even know what words he wants to say - let alone whether they’d come out of his heavy mouth.

So, instead, he’s crashing them into yours.

Brief. Fleeting. Like each one before this. Too addictive, too short, that he thinks he’s almost imagining it as you pull away gently, until he sees that look in your eyes.

“Toru, I have a date.”

The fourth kiss.

Satoru’s letting go of you like it burned - and, truly, it felt like some deep, dark part of him was burning down right now. “Great.” That should be hm that should be him that should be- “I’m…happy for you.”

And the last.

He fucked up.

He really, really fucked up.

That first date turned into a second. The second into a third. And unfortunately for Gojo, eventually, you were nearing your one-year anniversary with that asshat you’d met during the early days of your internship.

He’d seen the man himself once, briefly at another one of Suguru’s famous parties. Ducking out of sight before he could be introduced, yet long enough to know that he wasn’t as tall, or as handsome, or as absolutely fucking hilarious.

What did he have that Satoru didn’t?

The answer to that, Satoru’s reminded of every time he’s causing ruckus over at Suguru’s apartment, and sees you walking out of your room, tittering on the phone to none other than your boyfriend. So gorgeous. So not his.

You, that loser had you.

“If you sigh again I swear I’m shoving this popcorn up your a-”

“It’s a sad movie, Suguru!” he defends, draped across your couch at another one of those movie nights you loved to organize. As usual, there was the popcorn, the god-awful movie (if Satoru picks it), and the arguments. The only thing missing, however, was you. Ugh, something about an “anniversary” and a “seafood date”. Seriously, it’s not like you even enjoyed that new seafood restaurant in town, and he’s sure that bastard didn’t know-

“Satoru.” his best friend’s deadpan voice cuts through his little reverie. “We’re watching Mean Girls.”

And he’s barely even opening his mouth to snark back before-

SLAM!

Suguru pauses the movie almost immediately, turning to the direction of the front door. “Uh oh.”

And lo and behold - there was you in all your pissed off, beautiful glory. Throwing your keys on the table, your fiery glare passes over the two men as you stomp to your bedroom.

“Seafood wasn’t that good, sweetheart?” Satoru calls out behind you, eyes sweeping down your figure. Heart stuttering in his chest when you turn around with your fists clenched, lower lip wobbling in a way that Satoru would both kill whoever made you feel this way and die to be on the other side of those daggers in your eye.

Sniffing out an icy, “Fuck off, loser and loserette.”

Then in a whirlwind of rage, you’re gone - your bedroom door slamming only slightly more gently than you’d done with the front door. Leaving a deafening silence, and Satoru whining, “Why am I the loserette?”

“Deserved.” Suguru shrugs. Warily eyeing your door, as if it was about to pounce at any given second, “Let her cool down before you give her an aneurysm at least.” Unpausing the television, propping his feet back up, “S’enough having to deal with you on top of a boyfriend like that.”

And that has Satoru perking up in interest - both figuratively, and literally as he snatches the remote and pauses the movie. “Wait wait wait what-” Holding it way out of Suguru’s reach, “What do you mean a ‘boyfriend like that’?”

Scoffing, “Funny. Now give me back the remote.”

A beat of silence passes. One. Two.

Only then does it dawn on Suguru that this might just not be some strange prank to stroke Satoru’s ego, and he was actually more serious than he’d ever seen him. Damn.

“Bro, have you really never met the guy or something? He’s a complete tool. I don’t know what happened, but this breakup was a long time coming.”

Satoru blinks, feeling a red hot surge of anger. “What? Seriously? Why didn’t you do anything about it?”

“You think I didn’t try?” he sighs, running a hand through his hair at the other’s uncharacteristic silence. “Hah, and just imagine, the man was talking about marriage, too. As if.”

And suddenly, Satoru’s hit with an image of you walking down the aisle. Not something he was a stranger to, but it still takes him aback. The sway of the fabric beneath his fingers, your lips against his. Hell, in that split-second he even dreams up how Nanamin would be crying very reluctant tears of joy.

Everything. Everything that wasn’t his.

His fist tightens around the remote, until he could hear the cracking of plastic. Mind whirling with the thought of you and him and you. How he wished it was him and you. “I would’ve been better.”

Oh.

Shit.

“I- fuck this. Suguru, since elementary school I…”

And, well, Satoru’s so busy putting that extra physics seminar he took in university to work - trying to calculate the odds of surviving a jump out of this seven-storey window - that he almost misses Suguru’s low hum, a distant, almost barely-audible little interruption, “Well duh.”

“Hold on.” he’s snatching away the remote that had somehow slithered its way into the other’s hands once again. Ignoring his best friend’s croak of protests to pause in the middle of Regina George being hit by the bus - which, he felt was strangely enviable right now. “That was- what? YOU KNOW?”

“Huh? Even my parents know, the only one that doesn’t is her.”

“...”

Satoru didn’t know how Suguru seemed so calm, but he felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. Heart stuttering in his chest as he sideglances at your firmly shut door - like he was just waiting for you to jump out and tell him this was some elaborate prank.

Begging for you to come - it would’ve hurt less.

But you don’t.

Fuck.

And the only response he gets is a low whistle, before a phone is being shoved in his face - flashlight illuminating that crimson blush. “Damn, the great Gojo Satoru speechless? The groupchat is gonna love this, might even send it to my sister, y’know.”

He didn’t care - didn’t give a shit if this video made rounds to Gakuganji himself. Only one thought racing through his mind right now.

“But why aren’t you punching me like in elementary school?”

And Satoru knows he’s smart - intelligent even. Hell, he was the valedictorian, the youngest employee to claw their way up to being on the board of directors. But he’s never felt more stupid when Suguru breathes out a bewildered, “Dude. That was for blaming me for the paper planes.”

“Oh.”

Then the movie is unpaused.

---

The last time you kissed Gojo Satoru was at the doorstep to that overpriced penthouse of his, exactly a year ago today.

The last time you saw Gojo Satoru was just a few hours ago, lounging around your living room like he owned it. Honestly, he might as well have been part of the furniture at this point - like some expensive, fluffy couch. One that prattled on about your “dumbass boyfriend” and god-knows-what else to rile you up just for the fun of it.

Which is why it was odd to step out of your bedroom - eyes just a bit puffy, throat still tight - to a suspiciously quiet hallway.

The lights were turned off, nothing but the pouring rain sounding from outside, television paused on some rerun of The Princess Diaries. Damn, you told those idiots not to start that one without you.

“Sugu?” you call, finding his bedroom empty. “Thought tonight was movie night?” Padding across the empty apartment, contemplating whether or not to get your phone and call him when-

Ding!

Ah, there.

You roll your eyes as you head towards the front door, ready to give Suguru a piece of his mind for going out at this ungodly hour and forgetting his key. Seriously, what if you opened the door and he was hurt, or worse, or…

Satoru.

Speaking a mile a minute.

Satoru.

“-florist was closed and the store clerk looked at me like I was crazy but I got this for-” he pauses abruptly, as if realizing something with a jolt. “-you.”

“You- what-” you don’t know where to look - at the drenched, disheveled Satoru filling your doorframe - rain in his hair, curtaining his frantic eyes, drenching his snug t-shirt. Or at the obscenely large bouquet of cheap strawberry lollipops being placed gently into your arms.

What follows was an electric silence - and you have half the mind to tease Satoru for finally shutting the fuck up for once in his life.

But, no. Instead, you eye the way he stands stubbornly at the doorway, fists clenched, blue eyes locked so intensely on yours that it was like they burned.

Face flushed a familiar pretty pink that makes you realize that shit, he might be taller, voice deeper, broad shoulders tight against his t-shirt - but this was still the same boy that cried when you stole his favorite Digimon card in middle school. The same one that kissed you underneath a dingy slide, smelling of strawberry lollipops.

It’s the steady tap! tap! tap! of the water droplets from his hair that have you tearing your traitorous eyes from his see-through white t-shirt.

Guess you’ve both done some growing up since then.

“You loser.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

The pink wrapping of the bouquet rustles as your grip tightens. “He proposed to me today, y’know.” and yet, your quiet, even voice was the only thing ringing in Satoru’s ears. He jolts, as if some visceral, primal part of himself had been poked awake. Breathing heavy, fists clenching until he could feel the neat indents of his fingernails on his palm. Of course. He’s late. He’s late he’s late he’s late-

That is, until you’re plowing on, “I said no.”

“Huh?”

You think back to the stuffy restaurant, the man sitting from across from you - how wrong it felt. And all it took were those four words for you to realize that. “I said no.”

Satoru snaps his head up, stepping close - so close. Voice strained like he wasn’t asking - begging. Praying, “Why?”

“We…” you raise a brow at the way Satoru flinches as you trail off. So desperate. A smirk makes its way onto your face, “...we haven’t divorced yet, right?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you.

Fuck, you don’t know - nor do you really care right now. Not when Satoru’s got his lips crashing against yours for the fifth time in your life, kissing you like it would be the last. Big arms dipping down to your waist, pulling you so tight against his muscled frame that he had half the mind to wonder whether it hurt.

“Love this. Love the way you kiss me- fuck-” he’s spitting against your lips, kicking the door shut behind him. “Oh- would ya get mad if I-” he tries to get out through kisses. Only to suck on your pretty lips with a pained grunt. “If I-” Again and again, like it killed him to part. “-hah- celebrated right now?”

“Yes.” You’re letting the bouquet fall to the foor, white-knuckling that useless, drenched excuse of a shirt. “Now kiss me properly, Toru.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Such a sloppy mix of teeth and hands and him. Shoving a knee between your legs, making up for years and years of late nights with nothing but his fist and the pretty thought of you.

“Yeah, that’s it, sweetheart.” Satoru breathes out, as your urgent fingers that dispose of his shirt, feeling the gorgeous dips and curves of years of hard work to impress you. “Suck on m’tongue pretty- fuck-” His own fisting your shirt, pulling. Ripping.

“Toru!”

“I want you.” He’s letting the poor, tattered pieces drop in a pile on the floor, trailing a hand between your damp thighs before he can stop himself. “Oh how I’ve wanted you. And I don’t care if I have to buy fifty new outfits to make up for it.”

And it’s the feeling of his long index stroking up your sopping slit through your shorts that has you pulling away with a gasp. Delicate little strings of saliva snapping from Satoru’s kiss-bitten lips. “If we continue like this…” your voice wavers as he presses hot kisses along your collarbone. “-my brother’s gonna walk in.”

“...wouldn’t wanna relive that playground kiss, huh?”

It’s all he says before picking you up so easily, hands resting on your ass. Giving a playful spank ass you wrap your legs around his toned waist.

And it’s sloppy.

Both his lips still hotly on yours and the way he’s stumbling urgently to your room through pure muscle memory. Pulling away only when you’re all splayed out so prettily for him on your mattress.

“Blue?” he breathes, pulling your shorts off. And it comes out strained - like the very sight of your panties - all soaked and flimsy with your slick - has whatever’s remaining of Satoru’s sanity flying out the window. “Blue? Oh, you’ve gotta have planned this, you little minx.” his hot breath hits your cunt as he shifts down the bed, tongue drawing languid, wet little circles on your inner thigh. “Because don’t tell me this was all for him?”

It was coincidence - or maybe fate - but that doesn’t stop you from giving Satoru a slow, teasing nod. Muttering out, “So what if it was?”

The only answer you get is thumb hooked around your shorts, pulling it just enough so that your brother’s best friend can spy your pretty pussy.

“Well then.” he chuckles at the way you jump when his fingertip just barely grazes your clit. “Guess I jus’ hafta prove m’better.”

A low groan is falling from his lips as soon as they meet your puffy ones, giving your pretty clit a chaste peck. Lingering long enough that he’s sure your sweet sweet juices cover his mouth.

And oh Satoru’s sure he’ll never forget the way your jaw falls slack, glassy eyes following his every move as he runs his tongue along his glossy lips. Savoring your candied taste, “Never kissed you like this before, huh?”

Fuck, you’re sweeter than he’s imagined.

You whine desperately, something that has him smirking smugly, “Hah, what? Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re better when you shut up.” It’s all you can do to buck your hips into Satoru’s pretty face - not that you had to, because one taste of your dripping cunt and he was addicted. Surging forwards until he was nose-deep, locking your ankles around his head with a firm yank.

And you can’t lie - maybe you’ve imagined this exact scene a few times before on those lonely nights. But you just never expected Satoru to be so depraved. Desperate.

“Ngh- fuck, Toru-” you reach a hand down to thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his face up. But Satoru doesn’t stop - not even for a second. Tongue still dipping to spread your swollen folds with his tongue, looking you right in the eyes as he murmurs a strangled, “Mhm?”

“Thought you were gonna prove you’re better, hm?”

So goading. So like you.

At this, Satoru pulls back ever-so-slightly to laugh - laugh. His plump, glistening lips curling into a humorless little grin, “Oh I will.” Thumb circling your throbbing clit. Just dragging your twitching body across the silky sheets close to his, one hand pinning your hips down. Hard. “I will.”

Loving his new favorite place between your legs one hand toys with your clit, quick, messy little patterns. Tongue even more so.

“Not just better.” he grunts, “Gonna make you cum so much harder, too.” Having your thighs shake with each word hissed out into your cunt, each turn of his deft fingers. “Till I’m the only thing on your mind. Me.”

And it’s all you can do to let out choked up groans of his name, back arching off the plush mattress to let him make out with your cunt deeper. Sloppier. So, so starved with the way he’s speeding up, tongue dragging across your walls. In and out in and out in and-

“Fuck! Hngh-” you angle his head - and he lets you. “There- Toru-”

Honestly, you didn’t even have to tell Satoru - he could feel it. Could feel it in the way your plushy walls are squeezing his hot tongue so harsh, until it was almost difficult to fuck your pussy so sloppily. In the way you’re letting out such delicious whines each time he grazes against those sweet spots.

“There? Hah- I know.” he pulls away to muse, and your cute, disappointed whine goes straight to his already rock-hard cock. “Did he?”

He didn’t. And you’re shaking your head so pathetically - in a way you’d be embarrassed about usually.

But that’s the last thing you’re thinking bout because you feel it - the cold, sinful feeling of Satoru spitting on your filthy cunt. Once. Twice. Blue eyes widening in delight at the way the mess of spit and slick drip down your slit.

“Cute.” his tongue smoothes over the slutty pool, and the only thing your delirious brain can make out now is a low moan of, “So? Who’s better?”

It’s all you can do to choke out a broken little, “T-T-” Face burning at the way he was so clearly enjoying your struggle. And, well, no matter painfully hard it made his dick - he had to go just a bit easy on his girl, right?

“Shhhh, s’alright.” you flinch as he shoves two absolutely drenched fingers into your mouth, making so much more of a mess of it than necessary. Drinking in your cute gags, “I was asking her.” He’s making your head spin with the way he’s speeding up. “N’ she’s hah- very talkative.” Words muffled, and slurring together - like he was drunk off of you and your cunt. “Let’s hear what she has to ngh- say, huh?”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and squeezing into your sloppy entrance - like he couldn’t - didn’t - want to make up his mind. Oh, with your teary mewls strangled, the sound of Satoru making out with cunt is so loud. The squelches so obscene.

“Fuuuuck.” he drawls. “Louder than I thought. I think she says I’m better, don’t you think?”

You angle your head just right to catch the way his jaw grinds deeper into you, eating you out like his last meal. Your slick drooling down his chin so sinfully.

“Ngh- fuck fuck fuck- ngh-” your yelps are dreamy, feeling like you were losing your mind with the way he was stretching you out.

Like you were about to snap. Any second now.

But Satoru’s only increasing his movements, drawing out your little moans. “And I think she’s saying…” Getting sloppier. More erratic - and it didn’t matter if his fingers were cramping up now, cock aching with the need to be inside you. “-that she’s about to cum.”

You do - so hard and loud - both you and your cunt.

You’re shaking, all but gushing all over Satoru’s mouth, tight pussy squeezing his tongue so hard. Barely even realizing the searing grip you’ve got on his hair as you drag your sloppy pussy all over his mouth.

But Satoru doesn’t mind - he gladly welcomes it, in fact. Tonguefucking your snug cunt senselessly, letting you chase your high as roughly as you wanted. Over and over.

Even when you’re vision isn’t as spotty as before, even when nothing’s coming out of your mouth but little whimpers. Your breathing dying down until all that rings in your barely-lucid mind were those obscene noises of Satoru’s lips all on yours.

“T-Toru-” you whine, big fat tears pricking at your hazy eyes. “M’so sensitive.”

And of course this is Satoru, the same boy who’s been pushing your buttons for years just to giggle at your adorable reactions. Which is why he grins against your twitching cunt, “So?”

It takes everything in you to raise your head off the pillow that just seemed to be swallowing you whole, and even more to shoot Satoru a half-hearted glare. “So m’gonna ngh- assume you’re jus’ a pussy with a s-smaller dick than-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence - he doesn’t let you. Because Satoru’s fumbling with his belt, peeling off those still-drenched pants just enough for you to admire his clothed erection.

And, shit, admittedly you expected him to have a big dick - having been subjected to way too much locker room talk with your brother - but this was ridiculous.

“What? Too big?” He flashes you that infuriating grin. Palming his rock-hard cock through his boxers at the way your beautiful eyes trace the outline of his cock, all swollen and big. So intimidatingly big. “Damn, sweetheart, if I knew that this was how I’d get that feisty lil’ mouth of yours to shut up then I’d have done it a lot sooner.”

And you don’t even know if you’re breathing, the pads of your fingers dancing along his bulge. Tracing those prominent veins. Thumbing that little damp spot at his fat head. “You wouldn’t have.”

He hisses as your soft hands dip into the hem of his underwear. Voice cracking slightly, “I wouldn’t.”

Then you’re gasping - in sync with Satoru’s low moan - as you finally let him spring free. Thick cock hitting his sculpted abs, red tip smearing precum in a lewd little pool. Weeping and so so angry at the sight of you.

At the heavenly feeling of your thumb teasing under his sensitive slit, “Oh, shit.”

He’s throwing his head back when you give an experimental pump, all the way from his pretty tip to the tufts fo white at his hilt. Fist gliding all over the thumping veins. Bucking his hips up like such a slut into your touch.

“O-oh fuck.” he cracks an eye open at the way your hand looked so small compared to his dick, how well you were taking care of him. “Been ngh- dreaming of this since I learned what handjobs were, y’know? Hah- shit- ya gotta stop before I fuckin’ pass out.”

And Satoru thinks he could cum right then and there at the way you’re bringing your soaked index up to your mouth. Batting your lashes as you suck on them with a lewd pop! “From jus’ that?”

“You have no idea.”

That’s all it takes for Satoru to throw your still-quivering thighs over his shoulders, effectively shutting up whatever tease is on the tip of your sharp tongue by kissing your swollen folds with his fat head. Giving it one, long drag.

Your mouth is sagging open at the slow, torturous teasing. The sheer anticipation that had your mouth running, “S-so much for ah- jus’ being ‘friends’, huh?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” And you’re flinching from Satoru’s deep, dark tone. The way he’s bracing his fingers so bruisingly on your hips, reeling all the way back till his tip was just kissing your hole. “We stopped being friends the day you married me on that playground.”

And then he’s slamming in - pushing past that first, feeble ring of resistance, gummy walls stretching out so perfectly for him. As if he fit right in - and he tells you that. Pants it into your open mouth a little over fifteen times, in fact.

“Shiiiit, look at you.” he can’t tear his eyes away from the side of your lips stretching so wide to try and milk him. Sloppy entrance stretching out like magic. “S’like you’re made for me, huh? This pussy is made f’me?”

“Ngh- fuck, Toru! S’too big-” you keen, feet flattening on the mattress. As if to escape. To maybe fucking breathe.

Not even half-way in yet, but aleady torn between pushing away and sinking yourself down on his swollen cock for more more more-

“Don’t you dare run away.” he warns, looking up at you through his long lashes. “I’ve waited too long for this. N’ you’re not taking this pretty pussy away any time soon.” Inch by fucking inch. Grinding in short, sharps jabs - no rhythm of rhyme, like they were genuinely out of control. “Way too f-fuckin’-” All the way until your puffy folds was meeting his hilt. Finally. All the way in. “-long.”

And once Satoru had you split apart on his dick - had those tears rolling down your cheeks, cunt swallowing him so sluttily - it’s like something snaps.

Because he doesn’t waste a second - he’s already wasted almost two decades, anyway - filling you up with his mean hips. Not fucking easing you into it because you always did bring out that part of him, the part that him looping two strong arms around your waist. Pulling.

“Oh- f-fuck c’mere.” Satoru gasps, pressing your body so crushingly against his. Kissing your shaky shoulers, your sweaty forehead, the gentleness so contrasting to his hips.“God I’ve missed out- fuck fuck fuck-”

You’ve never seen the great Gojo Satoru - campus sex symbol - so uncomposed. Eyes half-lidded, just boring into yours, mouth slack in a soft oh! as he drags his cock all over inside your gummy walls. And the sight is so heavenly that you make the mistake the mistake of cracking a minute smile.

Just barely curling your lips before - “Don’t smile at me like that.” He’s dipping down a hand to roll your ravaged clit between two bullying fingers. “Fuck, she’s gonna be the death of me. Right?”

You keen at the- stimulation? The strech? The sheer embarrassment as you realize that Satou’s still talking to your sloppy pussy? Nodding so mockingly up at you as he plows on, “Mhm, she says you needa be ngh- knocked down a god, you’re tight- peg or two. So- get- ready-”

He’s using this as an excuse to sit up on his knees, dragging you onto his lap so easily like some ragdoll.

“That’s more like it.”

You’re sliding deeper down his painfully hard cock - all the way till his heavy balls rest beneath your ass, clit rubbing against his pelvis every time he bounces you like some slut.

Deep. Ruthless.

“Keep your eyes open, sweetheart.” He chuckles, and you’re screwing open your eyes that you don’t even remember shutting. Trying so hard to stop crying out at the feeling of the curve of his dick massaging your walls. “Ya gotta hngh- see the o-only one who’d fuckin’ you properly, right?”

You squeal when he’s taking your clit captive once more. Finger quick, deft. “Y-yes.”

But that wasn’t enough for Satoru - it might as well never be. Because he’s only ramming his hips up further. Like he’s pushing into your stomach, your lungs, all the way into your cockdrunk brain. Fat head alternating between kissing your poor, abused cervix and all those sweet spots he’d mapped out with his tongue.

“Sounded unsure to me.” he’s pouty against your hardened nipples bouncing enticingly in his face. Fingers quirking faster on your clit, “Maybe I should ngh- stop then?”

“No!” Your hips stutter against Satoru’s. Nails clawing down the sculpted panes of his shoulders, leaving red angry marks for him to take as a sign tomorrow morning that no, it wasn’t just one of his dreams this time. “No no no- m’sure. You’re the only one makin’ me feel this way.”

You can feel the way he’s twitching wildly at your words, dick thumping harder inside your sensitive cunt.

He punctures each word with a heavy, calculated thrust. Hand stretching and squeezing open your cunt from behind to let him slide impossibly deeper. “Hmmm, I’m not convinced.”

Your stupid mouth is only capable of letting out broken, choked-up little moans of his name, ankles locking around those dimples at the end of his spine. “S’you–”

“Still not convinced.”

But he’s still speeding up his movements, just dragging you up and down his cock. “Who else made you hah- feel this good?” Sure to claim you from the inside out - to leave marks everywhere. Heavy balls on your ass, weeping tip on your cervix, lips bruised as you whimper at his murmured, “That ex of yours?” Biting down your neck, “That barista that always flirts with you?” Pulling away only to breathe into your lips, “Who?”

“ I- fuck it’s only you, Toru.”

“Sound convincing to you?” Satoru hums down at your cunt, biting his lower lip at the way you were milking him so good. Your slick soaking him all the way down to his balls - so needy in a way he never thought he’d see. “Yeah-” be breathes, nosing at your neck. “She agrees- fuck does this tight lil’ pussy of yours agree.” A few tears, a few gorgeous marks down his back, and he was finally convinced. “You’re mine.”

You don’t even realize it when you’re cumming, and Satoru doesn’t either.

Both of you too caught up in each other to recognize that familiar, white-hot pleasure running down your spine - all the way down to where he was so mercilessly buried in your cunt.

And you’re well into the blood roaring deafeningly in your ears, the sight of Satoru - all wrecked - blurring as he fucks his hips up. Harsh. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he paints your quivering walls white.

Cumming and cumming so hard that you can feel his seed dribbling down your thighs, making such a mess all over Satoru’s lap. Your poor, overfilled cunt soon bloated and unable to keep up with it.

“Toru–” you whine, like a prayer. Milking the fucking soul out of him while he gently paws at your messy hair.

“Shhh, I know I know, sweetheart.” Such a stark contrast to the way he was filling you up like his favorite sex toy. Not even bothering to move anymore, one hand on your hip, moving your limp body up and down his sensitive cock to fuck it deeper. The other still playing with your clit, “S’alright, my girl”

Satoru’s hands never leave you, and he prays that now that he got a taste - well, you better be alright with them not leaving you for as long as he lives.

“As long as you live, huh?” you chuckle groggily, a noise so dreamy that Satoru can’t even be mad that he said it out loud. “And all that riling me up these years. Do you have a degradation kink or something?”

“Well, only one way to find out~”

“Oh shut up you-”

SLAM!

“Yooo, I bought dinner from that- WHAT THE FUCK?”

There were only two more lessons to be learned:

Always lock the door. Always. And in case you don’t, a bouquet of lollipops will do the trick to a Suguru reeling from the newest addition to the family.

Cheap takeout tastes better with an apologetic Suguru, and an ice pack to his cheek - and you to kiss it better.

A/N. Can you tell I kept listening to that one Artemas song while writing this?

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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selfcarecap · 13 days

Text

Practice [L.H]

pairing: Logan Howlett x reader

summary: Your roommate Logan lets you practise giving a blowjob on him for your date with another guy.

warnings: smut, 18+, oral sex (f&m receiving, reader’s first time), Logan is a liittle mean but just a little and he gets softer towards the end, spitting, jerking off, Logan keeps his socks on I think it’s hot okay 😭😭, Logan calls reader bub, baby, good girl, pretty girl; Wade is mentioned but I’m imagining a younger Logan than in DP&W

word count: 3.2k (this was supposed to be a drabble lol idk what happened)

“Who’s the lucky guy?” Logan asks from the sofa as you walk past him in your pretty date outfit. You’ve got some time left before your date but you decided to get ready early in a bout of nervousness.

“This guy I’ve been seeing,” you tell him, trying to seem nonchalant. You haven’t yet mentioned to Logan that you’ve been on a few dates. He spends a lot of time in his room, away from you and Wade, and he just never happened to be there to hear about your dates.

Logan mutes the tv. “What guy?”

“Met him online.”

“And he’s so good to you that you get this pretty for him?”

You smile at his indirect compliment and sit down next to him.

“Yeah, he’s nice. I… I think we might go a step further today,” you feel your cheeks heating up, “I’m kind of nervous.”

You see his jaw clench slightly, “If he’s a good guy he shouldn’t make you nervous.”

“I’m not nervous because of him, it’s just that it would be my first time. And I don’t want to be bad.”

He chuckles and leans back, “You won’t be bad. Just make him go on top.”

Logan isn’t taking your hint, so you take a deep breath to gather your courage. “What if he wants me to go down on him and I don’t know how to do it? Will you…” your voice falters as his eyes meet yours.

“Will you help me?” you stutter and Logan immediately begins to smirk. Embarrassment spreads through your body.

“Help you how?” He asks, smug.

It’s too late to go back now. “Well, I don’t know. Like, explain how it works or.. you could show me?” you shrug.

“You probably know better than me how to find porn online.”

“No, I mean show me on you.” That’s all the courage you can muster for the day and you wonder if you will even have the strength to look back into Logan’s eyes. He solves that problem for you, putting a finger under your chin and pushing it up so you’re looking at him.

“You wanna suck my cock?” He sounds annoyed and you immediately want to die.

“It wouldn’t have to mean anything,” you look at his cheeks, his nose, anywhere but his eyes, “I just wanna know if I’m doing it right. It’s okay if you can’t cum, I just want to practise.”

Logan scans your face for a sign of discomfort – other than your embarrassment – but he doesn’t find any. His features soften, “You really wanna go down on me, bub?”

You nod quickly, “For practice.”

“Mhm, for practice.” He’s mocking you, but all you can do is ignore it.

A thrill shoots through your body at his next words: “C’mere then.” He spreads his legs, clothed in jeans that strain around the thickness of his delicious thighs. You can see the outline of his abs through his tank top. You can’t believe this is happening – you’ve had a crush on him since you saw him for the first time.

Logan beckons you between his legs and you move to sit on the carpet, its fluffiness stopping your bare knees from hurting. Your short skirt rides up your ass and you pull it down self-consciously despite what you’re about to do.

“You sure about this, bub?” Logan asks again from above you. You gulp when you look up at him. How does he look even better from below?

“Yeah,” you assure him, your panties already growing wet. You sit down and try to patiently wait for instruction but you end up squirming. When you look back up at Logan he’s got one of his eyebrows raised.

“You don’t know how to open a belt either?”

“Well, yeah but don’t we have to–” your mouth starts to water when the rough clink of his belt interrupts you. He’s all but ripping open his belt; he unbuttons his jeans and takes out his hard cock. You almost get goosebumps.

“Oh,” you say.

“If a guy likes you, he doesn’t need any time to get ready. Foreplay is just to get the woman nice and wet,” Logan tells you, although you’re barely listening. All you know is that you wouldn’t need the foreplay either, you’re uncomfortably wet, trying to get friction against your legs that are folded underneath you.

Logan watches you stare at his erection, “Take your top off. I like seeing your pretty face but that’ll make it an even nicer view.”

“But I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you thumb at the thin straps of your top.

He smirks, “even better.” He reaches down to pull the top up by your waist but then hesitates.

You nod but Logan rolls his eyes. “Use your words.”

“You can take it off,” you say but you nevertheless put your arms in front of your tits when he pulls your top over your head.

Logan chuckles, “Baby, I’ve been dying to see your tits since I first met you. You really think you gotta hide?” The nickname makes you melt and your arms immediately drop to your sides.

You sit up straighter as Logan lets out a low moan, “God, look at you. So fucking perfect.” He reaches out to grope your tits almost clumsily. His cock bobs in front of you as he leans down to touch you and you feel yourself getting addicted to him already. You just want to start.

With a last rough squeeze of your tit, Logan leans back. “Wet your lips,” he instructs. You lick your lips.

“Wetter,” he says, and your eyebrows crease in confusion as you lick your lips again.

Logan huffs, spits into his hand, and smears his spit over your mouth, “There. Don’t you look fucking pretty like this.” You just about purr against his hand and then push against it with your cheek.

You place your hands on either of his knees and lean in to kiss the tip of his cock, all swollen and ready. You immediately feel the urge to go further but your shyness takes over, so you keep pressing wet kisses to his length.

“God,” Logan groans, leaning his head back in pleasure as you keep kissing, and you start to use some more spit.

“Look at you, don’t even need me to tell you what to do,” he pulls his arms behind his head smugly, like an asshole, and you smile, getting shy again. You kiss along the underside of his cock some more, getting more desperate with every second.

“What now?” You ask.

Logan softly smiles at you for a second, pulling his jeans and boxers further down his thighs. You pull them off completely as he pulls off his top. He’s naked in front of you now, except for his socks, and you take a second to appreciate all the broadness and his muscles. The hair from his chest all the way over his abs and down to his cock is begging for you to kiss every inch of it but you force yourself to focus.

Logan takes his cock in his hand to lift it out of the way, and slowly starts to jerk off. His eyes go to you and then to his balls, and you get what he wants you to do. Still, he gives you one word: “Lick.”

You move forward, inhaling all his manly smell, instinctively going to press another wet kiss to his cock. You let spit pool in your mouth and begin to lick all over his balls, feeling the heaviness of them on your tongue.

“Take as much as you can, baby,” he rasps, continuing to jerk off. You almost slap his hand away – you want to be the one making him feel good – but you stop yourself.

You do as he tells you, opening your mouth to cover as much of him as you can, the warmth of his balls against your tongue making you drool.

“Yeah, baby, juuust like that. That’s a good girl,” he breathes heavily.

Your pussy clenches around nothing at his words, and you have to take a deep breath to focus on anything but the wet ache between your thighs.

His balls move against your tongue from his jerking off, and you gently suck on the skin, moving around a few inches every few seconds. But the movement from his hand on his cock is becoming distracting and, without thinking, you instinctively push his hand away.

He stills and then smiles, lifting his hand away. He lightly leans his elbows on the back of the sofa to the sides of him.

“You can start sucking my cock now if you’re ready, baby. Been doing such a good job.”

“I don’t know if I can take all of it,” you pout. Even just imagining his dick down your throat feels too much, though not in a bad way. He’s just so fucking big.

“Just take as much as you can. I bet you can take more of me than you think.”

His words motivate you. You go up slightly on your knees, carefully wrapping your hand around his cock. You spit on it, letting it slowly slide down the sides as you begin to spread it with your hand.

Logan huffs out a laugh from above you, “So adorable. You don’t need to be so careful. Here, do it like this.” He wraps his much bigger hand around yours and he starts to jerk off with your hand, showing you how rough you can be as he starts to fuck your fist.

You clear your throat, “Can I use my mouth now?”

He bites his lip, “Ready when you are, baby. Just breathe through your nose and relax.” Oh, you’re relaxed. Being between Logan’s meaty thighs is the best you’ve felt in your life.

You press another kiss to the tip of his cock and part your lips to take him in your mouth. The first second you feel the heaviness of his cock on your tongue is like heaven. Logan lets out a low moan and you look up to find his eyes already on your face. He looks like a god from below, his muscles starting to glisten with a thin layer of sweat.

Opening your mouth wider, you take more of him. You start to jerk him off where your mouth can’t reach but you do your best to go as deep as you can, moving up and down with your wet mouth.

The feeling of Logan’s cock in your mouth is addicting, and the quiet sounds he is making even more so.

“Doin’ so good for me, baby,” he whispers, voice weak. You look up into his eyes as you suck his dick, spit starting to run down your hand, and a smirk spreads on Logan’s face.

“Such a pretty girl,” he leans his head back.

Your jaw is starting to strain because he’s so big but you never want to stop doing this. You swallow down the taste of his precum and can’t wait to actually make him come. He’s starting to pulse in your mouth, abs contracting with every time your tongue moves.

You’re wondering how much long–

“Y’gonna make me come, baby. Gonna come so hard,” Logan moans, and you figure he’s warning you but you want nothing more than his cum in your mouth.

You put in all the effort you can, sucking Logan’s cock further down your throat, cheeks hollowing. You start to feel him at the back of your throat, spit spilling from your lips.

Logan groans, and then he’s filling up your mouth, pumping his cum down your throat as you eagerly swallow. You look up at him through your lashes, taking in his face, his eyes shut and mouth hanging open in pleasure as a long, almost pathetic, groan comes out.

He’s coming longer than you’d expect, coming in your mouth in sticky ropes, a hand guiding the back of your head. You still pout when he’s finally drained and he slowly pulls his hips back.

Logan sighs a last breath of pleasure and holds his hand in front of your mouth. ��What?” you ask.

“Spit.”

“Uh, I swallowed,” you say.

“Really?”

You stick out your tongue for Logan to see your empty mouth.

He smirks. “God,” he huffs, “so fucking perfect. C’mere.” He pulls you up to the sofa and sits you on his lap, your bare chest against his. Logan pushes his mouth against yours, kissing you like he’s filled with a new desire, as if you didn’t just make him come.

You don’t get to kiss him for very long though, because he pulls you to lie down on the sofa, turning so your legs are spread around him.

“‘m gonna show you what it’s supposed to feel like for someone to eat your pussy. Just so you know your date is doin’ it right, ‘kay?”

What date? You almost ask. You remember for a second but then, looking at him, all of your thoughts are replaced with Logan again. “Yes,” you nod hornily, “Please.”

“There you go, got you even saying please now. You want it that bad, huh?”

All you can do is nod as he pulls down your skirt and panties. He almost goes cross-eyed when he sees your pussy for the first time.

“God, baby, you coulda said something. Such an eager little thing. You got that wet from having my cock in your mouth, hm? Gonna make you come so good, yeah?”

You nod again and he bends down to press another sloppy kiss to your lips, kissing down your neck and stopping at your chest, “Can’t get enough of these,” he plays with your tits, desperately grabbing at them like a man seeing a woman naked for the first time.

He smiles up at you when he realises how much time he’s spent at your chest, pressing a last kiss to your sternum before placing one of his big hands on your tit and kissing further down. You assume he’s going to stop before he gets to your pussy, just to tease you, but he kisses all the way down from your belly button to your clit, starting to make out with your pussy.

“Logan,” you moan, your hand flying to his hand on one of your boobs.

“Feel good?” He asks, and you almost faint when you look at his head pushed between your thighs. He looks exactly right, as if this is where he was meant to be the entire time.

“Mhmm.”

He chuckles against your pussy, tongue darting out to play with your clit. The ache between your legs starts to get worse with him there, and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing.

Logan smirks and pushes your thighs further apart with a rough hand. He starts to gently rub your clit, and you’ve finally got the friction you’ve been needing this entire time. You’re already close.

You let out an involuntary moan as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you, and you grip his hand on your tit harder, and he squeezes you there, lovingly.

“I got you, baby,” he says into your pussy before starting to fuck you with his finger, pushing another one in as he begins to rub a sweet little spot inside that you can never reach yourself.

He leans in to start licking your clit again, circling it with his tongue and, ever so slightly, beginning to suck.

You’re so close, the waves of pleasure almost, just almost, flooding over you. You squirm, your knees pushing together, held open by his broad shoulders.

Logan sucks harder, fingers fucking into you with your clit pulsing against his tongue.

It only takes a few more seconds of Logan’s mouth on your pussy for you to come. Pleasure explodes within you and floods your entire body as you arch your back, pushing further into him and his wet mouth and thick fingers.

Logan doesn’t stop until you’re satisfied and your legs go numb around him.

He grins at you, biting his lip to stop his smile from spreading too far, and he presses a kiss to the middle of your belly, squeezing your tit gently before letting go. You feel cold without him there.

With your legs still around him, you instinctively pull him in and he lies down next to you on the sofa, gently caging you against the back of it to give you the more comfortable side as he balances on the edge.

“You wanna know how good you taste?” Logan asks, not waiting for an answer before he kisses you. You slide your hand behind his neck to pull him in, tasting yourself on his tongue.

He stops kissing you. “So.. you still going on your date?”

You feel your cheeks getting hot, “What if I told youuu…” you twirl a strand of Logan’s hair that’s hanging over his forehead, “that there never was a date. Or a guy.”

Logan breaks out in a smile, “You were too shy to ask me to fuck you so you made up an entire person?”

You hear the key turning in the lock in that moment, and even though you’ll be covered by the back of the sofa Logan shields you with his hands as best as he can, reaching for your clothes.

Wade comes in and you immediately sit up, holding Logan’s hand and forearm to your tits to cover them.

“Guess what happened?” you squeal at Wade.

Wade’s eyes go over to you and then to Logan, and he drops his bags of grocery shopping to jump up and down, “Was it my plan? I told you my plan would work!”

You grin, “It was your plan.”

Logan looks between you and Wade, rolling his eyes but he’s unable to hide a smile.

“It was a good plan, right? I told her she could just ask you out but she was too shy so I told her to make up a guy she’s dating,” Wade explains.

“Alright,” Logan laughs quietly, “Now fuck off so I can fuck my girl again.”

Wade’s eyes go wide and he says what you’re thinking, “My girl? I’d faint if he called me that. You owe me,” he points at you.

You blow a kiss at Wade and he pretends to catch it, pressing it to his lap. You roll your eyes and smile, waving at him, “You heard him, we’ve got stuff to do.”

The almost animalistic smirk Logan gives you when Wade is gone should scare you, but it only makes you want him more. He picks you up in his arms, carrying you to his room. You can’t wait for what’s to come.

P.S. Logan thinks good girls reblog and comment on the fics they enjoy 🩷🫣

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut #james logan howlett #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #selfcarecap

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hannieehaee · 3 months

Text

ENDLESSLY

18+ / mdi

summary: despite not having a large audience, jungkook's camboy career prevailed with the hopes that someday he'd make enough money to finally leave his dead-end job. what happens when one of his admirers offers to make that dream come true?

content: camboy!jungkook x trustfundbaby!reader, jungkook is shy, jungkook is a faceless camboy with a very small audience, reader is younger than jk, kind of pathetic!jungkook, reader is rich and very confident, slowburn (kind of), afab reader, smut, camming, masturbation (m receiving), oral (f receiving), dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 12.7k

a/n: this really was just a spur of the moment fic that came to mind on a random thursday lol i hope u guys enjoy it!!

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

"Well, that's it for today guys, thanks for watching."

With an awkward chuckle, Jungkook reached out to his computer screen and shut the laptop closed, groaning just as he stopped being out of earshot.

233 viewers.

It wasn't much, but it was enough to give Jungkook the hope that maybe someday he'd be able to find pride in the number. Maybe his streams would blow up in views overnight one of these days – the hope prevailed. It had been a month since he hit the 200's, now garnering an average of 250 viewers per stream.

It was quite embarrassing to him sometimes. There were instances in which he'd finish a stream and regain full consciousness of his actions, becoming embarrassed at the knowledge of strangers watching him cum — of them hearing his voice and his whimpers as he played it up for their entertainment — and of him not even being able to make a living out of it.

He had to stay creative, sometimes finding scripts online that he'd read out to his viewers while he jerked off, playing the role of a subby coworker or a dominant childhood friend in order to keep his audience engaged (and maybe incite one or two to send money his way). Other times, he'd simply ramble about his life (but never get too specific) whilst he let himself lose control on camera.

Jungkook never once showed his face, only ever giving people glimpses at the tattoos decorating his arm and of his cock as it stood against his abs. The most he'd ever shown had been a small view of his lips before the camera's frame cut off.

He liked it this way.

In reality, he was too shy to ever be outspoken about doing such a thing, which was why no one in his life knew about it. He didn't judge anyone who enjoyed camming, but he was simply too self-conscious to do such a thing. Despite being aware of how handsome people thought him to be, he had never been too forward when it came to sex, much less this.

This had all started a little over a year ago, when he'd come across a few cammers on Twitter late into the night. Going on their accounts out of sheer curiosity, he realized that they each had a large following, not only on Twitter, but also on camming websites. Some of them even had their Patreons and PayPal accounts linked to their accounts, amassing even more revenue from these third party websites on top of their income from the camming sites. This was what mainly caught his attention.

Part of him felt bad about being on it solely for the money, but he was beyond desperate. And so he held the false hope that he'd somehow have the same luck as them and create an income out of this.

As someone who had only recently graduated university, having found no luck in his field, Jungkook had to resort to applying to jobs he felt were below his level of expertise. Having no connections in his field and no call-backs from employers, he found himself working a part time at a gas station accompanied by a part time at a grocery store. Both jobs were miserable to him.

The jobs themselves were not horrible, but attempting to manage both schedules and both sets of responsibilities was slowly weighing down on him. His coworkers were also not the best to be around. And did he mention the commute to each establishment? That part ate up at his days drastically, leaving him with almost no time for rest.

Jungkook knew that he should've given up on camming a long time ago. Hell, he'd made a grand total of $876 dollars in the past year he'd been at it. That would be a laughable amount to all the cammers that had inspired him into taking such a profession. But he didn't have any other prospects. Even as he worked his two jobs and cammed, he continued to search for more fulfilling (and better paying) employment, but was unable to ever even get any callbacks.

And so now he found himself doing about three streams per week, getting more and more discouraged each time he'd end a stream with the same low number of viewers.

With yet another sigh, Jungkook got up to go clean himself up, lethargic in his movements due to both the physical and mental exhaustion of having worked all day, only to come back home for a lowly appreciated stream.

Coming back from a much needed hot shower, he did his usual skin care before heading back to bed, where he had been recording just now. For a moment he pondered whether he should go to sleep now in order to get ready for work early next morning or to indulge in watching some anime as a reward for the tiring day.

Going for the latter, he opened his computer back up, sighing again when he remembered he hadn't closed the tab in which he'd been camming.

But before he could actually tap out of it, something caught his attention, making his eyes widen more than he thought possible.

burner98 donated $1,000

This must've been some sort of mistake. Right? Maybe they mistyped? No one in their right mind would donate such an amount to a faceless cammer ranking up to less than a thousand weekly views.

All his prior donations had been in the lower numbers, usually only ever amounting up to $20. Never had he ever gotten someone to donate anything in the triple digits, much less going into the quadruples.

The name of the donor also caught his attention. Babystarcandy. It was a frequent watcher who had been in attendance to every single stream of his starting a few months back — which was when they'd first made an appearance in his audience.

He had never noticed this viewer in particular, though they were one of the only people to ever grant him donations. They'd usually donate whilst he was off stream, which he found slightly strange but never questioned. Checking through his donation history, he saw this name listed three times prior, with donations of $5, $15 and $20 respectively. They'd happened throughout the months, with no pattern in particular. It made no sense for them to donate such a high amount to Jungkook out of nowhere, especially not while he wasn't actively on stream.

With a heavy heart and half a mind to simply keep the money, he decided to message the donor to inform them of their mistake and follow through with a refund.

So much for his anime binge before bed.

babystarcandy - Hey, burner98. Thank you so much for the kind donation, but I think you made a mistake. I'll refund you.

He decided to go with something kind of formal. After all, he'd never spoken to this person before.

Surprisingly, the response came within minutes. Being three in the morning, he assumed you'd wait til the following day to reply, but maybe you were in a different time zone.

burner98 - omg hiii !! did i make a mistake ?? im sorry !! i meant to send 1k. did it not go through correctly ?

Had that not been an accident? One thousand dollars?

This made no sense. Why would you send him such a large amount out of nowhere? That was more than he'd made in the entire past year. Hell, that was half his rent.

Jungkook had no idea how to respond to you.

As much as he wanted to accept it, it felt like robbing you of a fortune.

babystarcandy - Gosh, hi! No, the thousand came through, it's just ... Are you sure this is correct? This is a lot of money ... I'd feel terrible taking so much from you

Once again, you responded almost immediately.

burner98 - haha ur so cute

burner98 donated $2,000

burner98 - is that better ? ;)

Holy fucking shit.

Jungkook's hands were shaking at this point. His eyes couldn't believe what was right in front of him.

Quickly, he took out his phone to check his baking app, checking to see if the deposits were legitimate. Upon opening it, he found that his balance had in fact gone up $3,000. This was far more money than he'd ever had in his bank account.

He stared blankly at it for a few moments without so much as breathing. A reminder to snap out of his trance arrived in the form of another chime coming from his computer — a new message from you.

burner98 - did i scare u off :((

burner98 - just wanna help u out :(((

Immediately, he rushed to respond, not even thinking before typing anymore.

babystarcandy - no! not at all! this is just so much money. i dont want you getting yourself into financial trouble for me

Within seconds, you responded.

burner98 - haha it's okay i can afford it dont worry <3

He furrowed his brows worriedly, typing up yet another message.

babystarcandy - i really dont mean to sound ungrateful, but why ? it's so much money ... this is life-altering type of money for me (as made up as that may sound) my content isn't even that good. why are you giving me this?

He knew he was shooting himself in the foot by questioning it so much and not simply accepting it, but he'd learned through his life that good things don't just come out of nowhere. He needed more details. At least for his peace of mind.

burner98 - i adoooore ur content. u've helped me so much u have noooo idea !!! u deserve it !! u mentioned in ur live a week ago u were struggling with money, so ofc id wanna help u out pretty <3

Fuck. You actually liked his content? His content was worth $3,000 to you?

Jungkook was almost sure he had accidentally fallen asleep before he even opened his computer. Pinching himself a few times proved for this to be actually real.

babystarcandy - thank you so much. you have no idea how much this means to me.

babystarcandy - there has to be some way i can repay you.

Was he propositioning himself to you?

Not even Jungkook was sure. He had no idea what he was offering to you, but it was the middle of the night and he was extremely grateful. He couldn't help himself as he typed up that message and sent it.

burner98 - oh ? what would u suggest ?

Oh, fuck. You were agreeing. Okay ... Now what? Jungkook had nothing to offer. He was an amateur cammer with nothing to his name. What could some random person on the internet with tons of disposable income possibly want from him?

babystarcandy - maybe i could give you a call to thank you ? you know, one on one ?

He mentally kicked himself as soon as he sent that message.

What the hell was he thinking, offering up a personal call to some random person online? This could be a friendless creep for all he knew. He had no identifying information about you, other than knowing you apparently had a vast disposable income. I mean, hell, your account name was burner98, you clearly did not want to leave any traceable information about you.

Before he could backtrack (not that he would actually have the balls to), the three dots on your side of the conversation popped up, followed by another message from you.

burner98 - really ??? :00 that'd be amazing omg ... are you free tomorrow ? i'll make it worth your while <3

Staring at the $3,000 sitting cozy on his bank account, he didn't even let himself think before agreeing, sending a quick message in confirmation. He had work tomorrow, but maybe calling off would be worth it considering you were hinting at even more money.

Jungkook felt dirty for some reason, despite knowing what camming truly entailed. However, he also knew that there was nothing morally wrong with what he was doing, so he pushed that shyness to the back of his mind and began drafting up some sort of goodbye message that encapsulated your plans to call tomorrow and a few more thank you's for your donations.

burner98 donated $5,000

burner98 - just a little thank u for ur kindness ;) see u tomorrow baby ~

Jungkook had to swallow the gasp that was about to leave his body. Five thousand dollars??

You'd managed to drop eight thousand dollars on him within an hour's time. This was four months of his rent. Jungkook had never had this much money lying in his bank account. Its mere presence was making him nervous.

Not only that, but the thought of talking to someone who had this much money to give without a second thought scared him shitless.

There was no way he'd sleep tonight.

In the end, Jungkook ended up sleeping a total of three hours. With his working schedule, it was common for him to catch about five hours of sleep every night, so this wasn't too out of the norm. Last night had been different, however, as he had simply been unable to sleep due to all the tossing and turning in anticipation for today.

As soon as he woke up, he checked his bank account again to make sure last night hadn't been some sort of twisted dream. Following that, he called up both of his jobs in order to call in sick. That granted him a total of two days without work (nor pay) due to the flu he had made up.

Now he sat in front of his laptop, fake sick and waiting for you to call him.

Last night, you'd agreed on calling him on Zoom at around 12PM in his timezone. Currently at 12:18PM, he sat anxiously waiting for your arrival. Sporting a simple tank top and some basketball shorts, he pondered whether he should take anything off in advance, not sure if you wanted him to give you a private show or not. You hadn't discussed the details of the call, but surely you'd want something of that nature, right? I mean, you only knew him through his streams after all.

His wait was not too prolonged, as he heard the familiar notification chime come from his computer only moments later. It was a zoom link sent by burner98.

You were here.

Angling his webcam so it'd only show below his chin on camera, he nervously clicked on the link and joined the call. It connected after just a few moments.

In front of him was a black screen with the name burner98 attached to it. You'd chosen to remain anonymous to him by keeping your camera off.

Then he heard a tiny gasp, your microphone icon lighting up along with it.

"Oh my god!! Hi!", you sounded very happy to see him, causing his skin to heat up. He wasn't used to getting any reactions on his streams, seeing as he couldn't hear his audience.

"H-hi," he stammered, awkwardly clearing his throat afterwards.

"I didn't think you'd show ... Wow, you look so pretty," you said absentmindedly, almost as if entranced by him despite only being able to see his torso.

He could hear the smile in your voice. You sounded young and girlish, completely different from what he'd expected.

Truthfully, he had either expected some virgin creep around his age or maybe a lonely middle aged woman in desperate need of some action. Yet your voice sounded appealing to him. He could almost picture what you looked like. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he pictured a pretty girl on the other side of the screen. Unless you were using some sort of voice distortion. You could never be too sure nowadays.

"Uh, yeah, of course I came. Thank you again for, uh, the money," he felt awkward as he said it, not sure of how to properly convey his gratitude, but knowing he'd done a terrible job at it just now.

Luckily for him, you merely giggled at his awkwardness.

"It's not a problem!! I'm happy to help. Sorry I didn't send anything before ... I wasn't sure how you'd take it," you trailed off, "Was it okay that I sent it? I swear it's no trouble for me, but I didn't mean to intimidate you or anything. I know that can be a lot of money," you added.

"It's totally fine, hah," he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, accidentally lowering his body enough for you to see his chin and lips on screen, "I'm really thankful for it, truly. You have no idea how much this helps."

"Fuck, you're so pretty ..." you whispered to yourself before responding to his statement, "I'm happy to hear that! It's awkward to say this in person, but I really do love your content. You're so underrated."

You were very confident in the way you spoke, almost completely ignoring the context of this whole conversation. In the meantime, Jungkoook felt extremely awkward and nervous, unsure of where this was going.

"Thank you so much ..." he mumbled shyly, "Uh, do you want- What would you like me to do? You know, to, uh, express my gratitude?", he cringed at his wording, hearing an almost inaudible chuckle coming from you after.

"You don't have to strip for me or anything," you giggled after a short pause, "I really just wanted to talk to you," you added shyly. He could picture you putting your hair behind your ear, "Is that odd? Sorry, I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything," you added with another small laugh.

He could hear the smile in your voice at every statement. Your demeanor was just very contagious. It almost made him feel like this call was a reward of its own. It had been a while since someone spoke to him with such kindness, especially considering the grand favor you'd just done for him.

"Could I-," he started, "Could I see you? It feels a little strange being the only one with my camera on," he tried to play it off with a dry chuckle, but he knew the request was an odd one. He was the one who chose to put himself out there, not you.

"Maybe next time?", you suggested, "I'm just a little shy, sorry," for the first time, your tone matched his awkward one, making him grimace at even thinking about asking to see you in the first place.

"How old are you?", he asked before he could stop himself.

"You're very curious about me, huh?", you giggled, "I'm 23. How old are you?"

You were 23? And you already had this much money to give him without a second thought? Who were you?

"You're 23? That's- Wow, I expected older," he admitted, despite thinking your voice matched your age.

"Is it because of the money?", you asked.

"Yeah, hah, Sorry, just-"

"It's okay, baby, you can ask me whatever you want. If you're willing to answer some questions too," you added, not pushy, but more so encouraging, "You didn't answer my question, by the way."

"Oh, sorry ... I'm 24. Can I really ask questions?"

"Yeah, baby, go ahead," there was a big smile in your voice. He could tell you enjoyed when he engaged in conversation. And to be honest, he was enjoying it too.

"How come ... I mean, you're young and- and you sound like, like you're pretty. And you seem to be well off, so ... how come you're on here?", he hoped his question didn't come off as rude, or that he wasn't rushing things. He felt selfish in admitting it, but he hoped that this would not be the only time you ever donated to him.

"Aw, you think I'm pretty? But you've never seen me?", you teased.

"I mean, what I meant was-"

"It's okay, pretty. You don't have to explain," you giggled, "To answer your question ... I came across your stream on accident, and your voice was just so-", you cleared your throat, "so fucking pretty. The way you read the scripts or those times you'd just rant while you played with yourself ... Fuck. I never thought I could be so attracted to someone I'd never really met or even seen," you were getting carried away, but the shifting tone of your voice had Jungkook's interest peeked, "When you mentioned struggling financially in one of your streams, I just felt this need to take care of you ... Sorry, is that weird?", you chuckled awkwardly by the end, likely embarrassed by your ramble.

He shook his head, "N-no! I understand. I'm glad you enjoy the content. I didn't think it was good, since I don't get that many views," he lamented to himself, "Thank you for wanting to take care of me, I have been struggling lately. You're really saving my life," he exaggerated a bit, but it felt truthful at the time.

"I'll help you out even more in the future, baby. Don't worry," he could hear the pout in your voice, basically cooing at his lamentations.

"You really don't have to-", he raised his arms to convey his point, only to be interrupted by you.

"I want to! It's really no trouble for me. I have a lot more to give. Trust me," you insisted.

You stopped speaking for some seconds before humming to yourself, seemingly thinking to yourself. When you spoke up again was when the atmosphere shifted for Jungkook.

"How about we make a deal?"

It sounded ominous as you said it. Jungkook couldn't lie when he said that the question made his heart drop. You didn't seem weird or threatening thus far, but he really did not want to enter a situation in which he gave you some sort of sexual favor in exchange for money. Camming already made him shy enough. He didn't think he had it in him to do more explicit things.

"I- I don't-"

"I'll send you an allowance if you keep streaming regularly," you started, "and I'll double it if you call me again. Just to talk," you suggested, giving him some room in order to respond.

"You want me to c-call you?", he parroted.

"I've really enjoyed talking to you, and I'd love to do it again," you admitted, "Please let me take care of you."

His blood stopped pumping for a moment.

The offer sounded far too good for him to refuse. Money for him to keep doing what he was already doing? And even more just to talk to you? This sounded like one of those sugar daddy situations he'd hear about on Twitter, but without the explicit bits.

Jungkook pondered over it for a few silent moments, humming to himself when he found the answer he wanted to give. He didn't have anything to lose after all.

"Okay. I'll do it," he decided, gulping nervously immediately after agreeing.

"Really?", you sounded elated as you asked, "You want to keep talking? I didn't scare you off?"

"Of course not. It's not everyday you get such a deal, you know," he shamelessly allowed himself to admit, "And you're nice to talk to."

He wasn't sure whether he was buttering you up or if he actually meant it. He'd need a few more conversations to decide.

"Great! Oh, baby, I'm so glad!," you clapped your hands excitedly, cheery in your demeanor.

"You can, uh, call me JK if you want," he added, noticing how you kept going back and forth between pet names. It just felt a bit awkward to him at the moment.

"Okay, JK. Tell me, how's your day been?"

Settling comfortably, he continued the conversation, nerves easing after a while as he attempted to match your energy. Although he still had his alerts high, he felt more at ease as the conversation evolved, with your demeanor becoming contagious to him.

You only spoke for a few hours. At some point Jungkook became so absorbed in it, he didn't realize how easy it was for him to talk to you about his goals, his time as a cammer, his day to day life, or any other mundane subject that you brought up. He kept personal details to himself (as did you), even turning off his camera at some point in order to lessen how self aware he felt. You were nice to him all throughout, showing genuine interest in him yet not a single ounce of lust or any ulterior motives.

After a while, you were the one to finally bid your goodbyes, claiming you had things to take care of and couldn't stay longer. With the agreement to call you a few times per week, you coo'd and pouted at having to hang up, making Jungkook feel a slight ting of disappointment at the conversation ending.

Within a few weeks, Jungkook's life changed drastically.

His streams and your calls continued swiftly, amassing to a total of two of each per week. Usually, he'd call you for about an hour or so before coming on stream for another hour.

On those days he'd garner about $3,000 from you. Jungkook felt quite rich at the moment.

Against his better judgment, he quit his job at the gas station and lowered his hours as a grocery store clerk. He had a high amount of savings now, thanks to you, so he didn't see the point in remaining miserable in not one, but two jobs. Despite keeping one of his jobs as a fall-back plan, he still had tons of free time at his will due to the streams of money coming his way — with all of it being your money.

A few calls in, he found out a bit more about you, which answered many of his questions. However, your meek promise of letting him see you had been untrue, as he still had no idea what you looked like nor did he know your name. Granted, you also didn't know those things about him, but you'd seen him jerk off on screen, so you still had an advantage over him.

Among the things he found out about you was the source of your vast income. Apparently, you were the daughter of a CEO. Jungkook was not granted the specifics, but you'd told him that your father was the owner of a few multimillion dollar companies, which was how you attained your seemingly endless stream of income. Your father would routinely send you about ten times the amount you gave Jungkook weekly, which left him dizzy at attempting to do the math.

Along with this bit of lore about you, Jungkook was also shocked to find out you lived in the same area as him. While Jungkook lived in a rundown part of LA, you were living comfortably in a wealthier, high end area. This knowledge had also shocked you, even causing you to bring up a cheeky suggestion of meeting him in person, but it was merely brought up as a passing comment and never discussed again.

Currently, he found himself in his same apartment, not feeling secure enough in this agreement to move onto a nicer area. As naive as it may have sounded, Jungkook did trust your word when you said you were interested in taking care or him financially, however, he knew that realistically he could not count on your money forever. You didn't know each other personally, and his streaming career would not last forever (especially considering that his views were only in the 500s at the time). He opted to save most of the money you kept him, likely to use some of it to pay off college and some for safekeeping. As of now, however, his lifestyle remained pretty much the same.

Much like every other Thursday, today Jungkook was preparing himself to start another stream in a couple of hours. On most streaming days, he'd call you to talk and simply hang out before starting a stream. Today, however, he had received a message from you before he could log in to contact you.

burner98 - hey jk !! i cant talk right now ㅠㅠ would it be okay if u call me after ur stream ?? i'll still be able to tune in !!

Jungkook didn't think too much of it, simply replying in agreement and moving onto something else to fill up the time. He prepared for his stream as per usual, opting to ramble as he jerked off for the duration of this stream, not having a script or prompt to roleplay this time around.

Setting up his usual equipment, he reached over to his pc to angle it correctly, only showing below his lips in order to protect his anonymity. With a deep breath, he uncovered his webcam and turned on the stream, immediately taking note of about 60 people entering all at once.

"Hey guys," he chuckled breathily, "It's me again, Babystarcandy. Welcome back to my subscribers and welcome in to anyone who might be new," he began, "Today is gonna be a more casual stream if that's okay? I'll be, uh, edging and rambling for a while. Maybe not too much rambling, since you know how into it I get," he trailed off.

One of his key features as a cammer was his usual commitment to being a sub. He'd often get praise about how 'pathetic' and 'subby' he could be. Most of his donations occurred on his subbier streams, when he'd roleplay some subby role or when he'd jerk off, torturing himself into a pathetic mess. In reality, this was Jungkook's natural state when it came to sex. He had always taken a more submissive and sensitive role when it came to his personal relationships. Sadly, though, he had not gotten any action outside of camming in a few months due to his hectic work schedule.

Quickly squirting some lotion on his hand, Jungkook began to work himself, slow in his movements as to prolong the experience. He wanted this to last a good twenty minutes or so.

"H-how are you guys?", he asked, glad to see there were about 200 people in now.

A few commenters popped up — the usual loyal commenters who'd encourage him throughout, expressing their arousal at the sight of him.

"S-hit," he muttered when his hand went up to his tip, squeezing tortuously, "My tattoos? You like them? I'm glad ... What? They make me look intimidating? I'm quite the opposite, purplelover65," he chuckled between breathy moans as he read off comments.

"How many times should I edge myself tonight?", he wondered out loud, "Won't cum til you tell me to," he whimpered, slowing down his movements even more, hand tight around his cock.

He read a few more comments, thanking two donors who'd given $10 each and fulfilling any requests to plea or whimper for more. This continued as it usually did up until the first time he robbed himself of an orgasm, which was when he spotted a commenter in particular.

It was you.

Ever since he began talking to you, you never really commented anymore, simply making your attendance known by being connected in the stream. Despite your calls, you'd never speak about what he did on his streams, always talking as if you were friends (friends who knew no personal information about each other but alas). Tonight, however, you decided to catch him off guard by commenting.

burner98 - god, ur so pretty ... bet you'd like someone playing with that pretty cock right ? marking you up and toying at u til ur crying

You'd never once been this explicit towards him, even before ever speaking to him. You'd expressed liking his content, but never had praised him like this. He pictured the words coming out of your mouth, with your voice, and shuddered. There was something about being wanted so badly by someone — enough for you to take care of him financially without asking for anything in return — that made him reel. As ashamed as he was to admit it, he'd been craving some praise from you all these weeks. In his mind, you were a faceless entity, but you were still a rich girl around his age, and that was enough for his brain to work with.

"Y-yes, burner98, want you to t-touch me til I'm crying ... Fuck, need to be touched so badly," he whined, already on the high of his second attempt at an orgasm approaching, knowing he'd end up denying himself again.

A few other commenters encouraged him with similar words, making him jerk off faster, slowly approaching his high.

burner98 - ur so filthy, fuck. are u gonna edge urself again, pretty ? wanna see u do it til u make a pretty mess all over ur sheets

Your comments were the ones he wanted to see the most. He felt an instinctive need to obey you. It felt like he was finally giving you something in return. It also felt right to him for some reason, like his body was aching to fulfill your every wish.

"Mhm, just- just wanna cum so bad," he cried, hand reaching out to play with his balls, "I'm so close ... Can I cum? I know I said I wouldn't yet, but it's so good ... It's right there, baby, please ..." he pleaded, eyes drowsy.

burner98 - nooo baby u have to wait. want u to cry, remember ? do not cum.

Huffing, he slowed down, diminishing the intensity of the feeling. Pouting, he groaned as he felt his orgasm leave him, disappearing just as the previous one had.

"Okay," he whimpered, "I stopped ... Can I touch myself again?", he asked his viewers, "My nipples? Want me to play with them, magicshop43? A-anything for you," he moaned, fingers coming up to his hardened nipples and toying with them. He sighed at the stimulation, always extra sensitive in that area, but also due to how badly he was craving that orgasm now.

His hand went back down to his cock, working it again, "What would you do if you were here with me right now?", he asked as if he were directing himself to a single person rather than the 435 viewers currently watching.

He skimmed through the comments, humming and acknowledging all the dirty thoughts his viewers were sharing. As he played with himself, he waited for you to respond. With a groan, he finally spotted your comment, gulping when he processed the contents of it.

burner98 - id love to have u all to myself. edge u until u cry or maybe make u cum so many times u have to beg me to stop ... id mark up every inch of ur body while i run my thumb on ur tip without any more stimulation. you'd look so pretty begging me for more until i finally sit on ur cock and steal my orgasm from you without giving u anything in return. id drag this on for hours until u cant take it anymore

burner98 - is that too much ? sorry just want u so fucking bad

Without realizing it, his hand sped up as he read your comment, mind now zeroed in on you, putting all other commenters in the back burner. By the time he managed to respond, he was already a whimpering mess, bottom lip trapped in between his teeth to prevent the pathetic sounds from slipping out.

"It's not too much, b-burner98 ... Want that, fuck ... Need someone to take care of me so badly ...", he breathed out, "C-can I cum now? Please? Wanna cum- Need to cum," he pleaded, sighing at the chorus of comments giving him the green light to let go.

"Thank you thank you thank you," he rambled quietly, letting his cock make a mess all over his abs and sheets with the cum squirting out.

He sat there with a heavy breath for a few moments as he attempted to regain his composure, surprised at how sensitive he'd gotten this time around. He wanted to blame you in specific, but doing so would mean admitting to himself that you'd had an effect on him, and he did not want to open that can of worms yet.

"Thank you guys for joining me today, hah," he chuckled, "I hope that was as fun for you as it was for me. I'll see you next time, my loves," he made a kissy noise at the camera before closing the tab, sighing once it was all done.

Now he had to wait for your call, still slightly horny but also anxious about talking to you after having practically had phone sex with you — with an unknowing audience. He gave himself a few minutes to calm down, only then getting up to wash his hands and get a rag to clean up with. By the time he was finished, that familiar chime arrived, informing him of a message from you.

burner98 - im calling u now. is that okay ?

Clearing his throat, Jungkook sounded out his voice to make sure he'd rid himself of any of that high pitched, whinny tone he would develop when he was horny. With one last sip of water, he responded and soon after began the call.

"H-hey," he muttered, feeling shy after today's events, unknowing of what was to come.

"Hi ..." you sounded similarly awkward, "I'm sorry if I caught you off guard today," you started, "I just needed to unwind ... I promise I'm not expecting anything from you. This is just a regular call."

"I- it's okay, really. Don't worry about it," he reassured, "It was nice to, uh, have someone talk me through it. It makes it easier; more, uh, fun, I guess," he was awkward in admitting.

He immediately regretted his words at your sudden silence. Did you think he was lying? Or maybe the thought of him enjoying it freaked you out. You had never showed explicit interest in him in such a way, so maybe this was too forward of him.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"JK," you interrupted.

He gulped, "Yes?"

"Would you like to meet someday?", you began, tone serious, "I know we live in the same area, and ... I've really enjoyed our time getting to know each other. I'd just really love to meet you."

Jungkook remained silent, shock taking over his entire person.

You must've interpreted his silence as rejection, opting to continue speaking.

"I wouldn't expect anything from you if we met, if that's what you're thinking!," you quickly reassured, "I'm not looking for that. I just ... I love being able to help you out and I'd love a chance to see you in person."

"You ... You want to meet?"

"Yes. You don't have to say yes, just-"

"Where would we meet?", he asked, truly considering it.

"My house? Maybe?," you suggested, "Again, you don't have to say yes. I understand this is strange. I won't get angry if-"

"Yes. I'll go," he found himself responding before he could think any further.

"Really?", you asked with an astonished tone of voice.

"Y-yeah, just send me your address and the time and I'll be there," he rushed out, "Uh, well I have to go now. I'll see you soon, okay? Bye!", he practically zoomed, shutting his computer closed before you could say anything in return.

Jungkook knew how stupid it was of him to want to meet some anonymous person be met on a camming website in person was. But he felt an immense debt towards you. This really was the very least he could do.

He also felt far too much curiosity about your person to pass up the opportunity to meet you. You'd kept even the most basic information about yourself a mystery. Some part of him needed to meet you to find out who the person he'd been talking to all this time was.

Lastly, as embarrassed and confused as he was to admit it, tonight's events had left him a bit ... affected. Interacting with you as he put himself in the most vulnerable of positions, playing with himself for your (and many others') viewing pleasure just left him insanely aroused. It awoke an itch he now needed to scratch.

So, when he woke up the next morning to details about your meeting, he was nervous yet determined to finally meet you.

Anxiety and cold sweats were all that Jungkook knew any time he was nervous. Staring up at his blank ceiling as he attempted to sleep was the only thing he could do on the night prior to your meeting.

The day had come sooner than anticipated, happening only two days after the day of the stream in which you'd made Jungkook lose his sanity. After that, he began to feel a mixture or excitement and bone-rattling anxiety at the prospect of meeting you.

He already had a great thing going on with all the allowance money you'd given him, meeting you would merely risk that. What if you were some weirdo who had been manipulating him this whole time, hoping to eventually get him alone to extort him with all the money you'd given him? Risking such a high stream of income made him feel terrified, even if it was money he was never expecting in the first place.

And that wasn't even the worst case scenario.

There were tons of terrifying scenarios playing in Jungkook's head. Someone with as much money as you did could easily cause some damage to him if he were to reject any advances you made towards him. Meeting you could possibly turn dangerous for Jungkook.

At the same time, naive and immature ideas popped up in Jungkook's head.

There was a chance you truly were the bubbly girl who had taken an interest in his financial wellbeing. Maybe you truly were someone who had somehow become infatuated with him in an innocent way and had no ulterior motives in mind. You had never crossed any lines with him nor had you even brought up the possibility of a sexual encounter between you. Maybe he'd meet you and end up forming a genuine friendship with you.

Whether it was dumb of him or not, Jungkook decided to continue with the plan to meet you, showing up at the penthouse the address you'd given him led to. His life had already been miserable before you turned in upside down, how much of a risk could this be?

With an accelerated heartbeat, Jungkook pressed the button to your intercom, becoming alert when he heart a voice respond through the machine.

"This is a private residence. Who is this?", responded a male voice in a tone devoid of any emotion.

"Oh, uh, this is Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook," he stammered.

Fuck, he had never given you his real name. How were you to know this was him? Was this even your address? Maybe this was your husband? What if-

"Oh, you must be JK," responded the voice, more casually this time, "You're here to meet Y/N, right? You're a bit early. I'll let you in in just a moment," trailed off the voice, turning off the intercom before Jungkook could respond.

"Y/N," he mumbled to himself.

That must've been your name. He liked it. It rolled off his tongue nicely.

In just a few moments, the door opened, revealing a handsome man in a suit, seemingly around his own age. With a nod, he gestured at Jungkook to come in, which Jungkook obeyed immediately.

"Hello, I'm Taehyung. I'm Y/N's personal assistant/butler," he introduced himself with a friendly handshake, "Wow, you're even more handsome than she described," he marbled, staring at Jungkook shamelessly.

This guy seemed weird, but nothing appeared threatening thus far.

"Oh, I- Thank you," Jungkook chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

"I let her know you're here. Just take those stairs and head left and you'll be in one of the living rooms. She'll come out when she's finished getting ready," instructed Taehyung as he pointed in the direction Jungkook was meant to go find you.

Hesitantly, Jungkook made his way to you, heart beating faster by the minute. When he reached the living room Taehyung had directed him to, he found himself standing by a fancy door, one which he assumed led to your room. Before he could ponder as to whether to knock or not, the door suddenly opened, revealing a girl.

There weren't enough words in Jungkook's vocabulary to describe how he felt at seeing you for the first time. His imagination had been liberal in picturing how you may look once you actually met, yet it had never quite come close to the reality.

Before him stood the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Your skin was perfect, somehow radiant and supple. He could tell it'd be soft to the touch — especially the soft skin of your legs that was exposed by the dress you were wearing. Your hair framed your face perfectly, taking on a soft look that had him wondering what it'd feel like if it graced his skin. Your body was something Jungkook did not want to get into in favor of his sanity, but his brain could not help itself. Your body was formed by the perfect combination of curves and wedges, making up a silhouette he ached to trace. Your eyes were the final blow to it all, wide with wonder as they stared back at him. The beautiful color had him hypnotized.

Jungkook would've truly had his fill of you, devouring you with his eyes for hours if you hadn't snapped him out of it.

"Oh, my God, JK!", you practically squealed, hands going up to cover your mouth in excitement.

"Burner98? I- Hi, You're-"

"You can call me Y/N," you smiled widely at him, offering him a handshake. Everything you did radiated the happiness you clearly felt at meeting him. It somehow had him feeling both reassured and nervous.

"Oh, I- that's a pretty name," he mumbled, gulping at the contact of your hand, "My real name's Jungkook," he revealed.

"I'm so happy to meet you, Jungkook," you expressed, "You're even prettier than I imagined," you were quite straightforward in your thinking.

Sadly he was not the same, still too entranced by you to muster any coherent words.

"You're pretty," he hid behind a cough, too embarrassed to say it outright.

He was aware he was acting like a loser, but could he be blamed? He was currently in the luxury penthouse of his gorgeous sugar mommy (for lack of a better term). His mind would not stop spinning.

You simply giggled at his shy demeanor, taking his hand and leading him over to the couch, coming to sit side by side whilst Taehyung suddenly walked by with drinks, setting them down as he offered you both a cheeky smile.

"Thank you, Taetae," you waved him off before turning back to Jungkook.

"So, how are you feeling? Did coming here make you nervous? I was thinking it might," you started, taking a sip from your drink.

"Maybe a little," he downplayed, "I just didn't know what to expect," he mumbled.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just thought that talking in person might be easier, you know? I never really planned this," you laughed to yourself, "I had no idea you lived so close, but it felt like a missed opportunity to not meet when we lived so close together."

He hummed in agreement, continuing to engage in his shy demeanor despite wanting so badly to show you how elated he was to be with you in this moment.

"I thought maybe you'd have questions? I promise to be an open book from now on," you cutely reached out for his pinky, giggling when he intertwined his own with yours with a smile.

"I guess maybe I was just curious about ... why me? I still can't wrap my head around why anyone would want to help me like this without me, uh, doing anything in return," his eyes left yours as confidence in his question left his own.

You cleared your throat before responding, "Hah, it's kind of embarrassing to say, but, I was in kind of a rut?", you started, "Nothing worked, and then I came across you. Your voice was what got to me first, then it was a mixture of everything. I didn't even plan on continuing to watch as consistently as I did, but I found myself coming back for more every week. Then your personality caught my attention. So when you mentioned your financial issues in one of your streams I couldn't help myself. I was already infatuated by you by then," you admitted, a warmth invading your cheeks.

Similarly, Jungkook blushed, "Oh, I helped you ...?"

"Yes, but we don't need to talk about those things," you cleared your throat, "I don't expect anything like that from you, Jungkook. I just want to help you out. I know it might seem like an odd arrangement, but this is enough for me," you reassured.

As hypocritical as it sounded, Jungkook was slightly disappointed by your words. Within mere minutes of knowing you, he already knew how attracted to you he was. Despite your words, he could not follow along with you and ignore the context of the situation. You found him attractive, he knew that much, and you'd just implied that your attraction to him had made you cum at some point. How was he supposed to ignore that when you were so otherworldly beautiful, sitting right next to him?

But unfortunately for Jungkook, he was too timid to express his desire for you. He was both too introverted and embarrassed to offer himself up like that.

"It's ... I'm glad I've been able to help you," he muttered, "I really appreciate all you've done for me. Don't feel like you have to keep doing it, I understand if-"

You scoot closer to him before interrupting him, "Shh, I want to keep doing it," you shushed him, "but I was hoping we could maybe alter our deal a bit?", you asked, causing Jungkook's breath to hitch.

"H-how so?"

Please say you want him, fuck. He'll drop to his knees right this second if you so much as suggest it.

"I was thinking maybe you could come over a few times a week instead of calling? It'd be way more fun to hang out than just call, don't you think?", you suggested, smiling innocently at him.

Fuck.

"Oh, I- I'd love to, but it takes me about an hour to get here and I don't have a car, so," he said, feeling an odd sense of disappointment in himself at denying you of anything.

"You don't have a car? You should've told me, Jungkookie!," you pouted at him, "Taehyung!", you suddenly called out into the other room.

Within moments, Taehyung entered the room, ready for whatever you had for him.

"Yes?", he asked.

"Tell Joon he'll be driving Jungkook from now on," you turned to Jungkook for a moment, "Joon is one of my drivers. You'll like him," you then turned back to an expectant Taehyung, "I'll give him all the info necessary later today, okay?," you finished, excusing him with a nod of your head.

"Sure thing, Y/Nie," he smiled at you before walking away.

"You really don't have to-"

"No, it's fine! You can call him whenever you need him. He lives in the building too. All my employees live here," you reassured, "You could too if you wanted to, you know, my dad owns the building," you said as if it were nothing.

"W-what?"

You gave him another smile at his shocked expression, hand landing on his own, "Let me take care of you, Jungkook," you said, not as a request nor demand, but something in between.

As your thumb caressed the back of his hand, your eyes on his own, he found himself numbly agreeing, willing to let himself be taken care of without question.

The rest of the evening was spent like this, sharing a few drinks and truly getting to know each other. Whenever Jungkook actually let his guard down and ignored his attraction to you, putting aside the way in which you'd met and your entire dynamic, he found himself really enjoying your company. The two of you were easily compatible, getting along as if you'd been friends for years. Occasionally Taehyung joined in, which gave Jungkook the impression that you were good friends with your employees, whom you treated as equals rather than subordinates.

At some point, Jungkook went home, getting a ride from who was now his new driver, Namjoon. This was yet another person you seemed to be friendly with, which only put Jungkook even more at ease.

He was now willing to follow along with anything you wanted for him. Maybe it was dumb or naive, but meeting you had been enough to instill this blind trust in you. It also didn't help that Jungkook was now undeniably infatuated with you.

Only three weeks later and Jungkook found himself moved and settled into a smaller penthouse located in your farher's building. It had been quite fast, really. A group of movers showed up at his house one week after your initial meeting and did all the work for him. He had been unable to stream that week at all, — earning a few pouty emojis from you in text messages — but he no longer had to pay rent, as you allowed him to occupy the vacant penthouse free of charge, so there was not any loss of money.

Within this time, Jungkook found himself hanging out with you almost daily. He had now known you for a few months and had become intensely attached to you. His feelings for you had grown as he got to know you, and his attraction became almost unbearable. However, he had to hold on, as you still hadn't shown anything further than platonic interest in him.

On the days he streamed, however, you had continued to comment just as you had that one day, egging him on and saying filth he ached to hear from your lips. But any time he saw you after those streams, you'd never bring it up, acting as if you hadn't been lusting after him mere hours ago. In fact, you never mentioned his streaming career anymore, despite actively keeping up with it. It confused him endlessly.

On the day of a particularly racy stream, he visited you again, still somewhat affected by the comments you had left as be whimpered his way to completion.

As he usually did nowadays, he let himself into your penthouse without any warning, making his way to your kitchen, which was where Taehyung had informed him you were currently in. Once he was there, he spotted you as you bent over to take some cookies out of the oven. Your tiny lounge shorts were riding up, a sight that would cause a man even as shy as Jungkook to lose his mind. But he prevailed, simply clearing his throat to announce his presence from the kitchen door.

"Oh, hi Kook!", you chirped, quickly turning to give him a smile before going back to tend to your cookies.

He walked towards you, closing the distance and reaching around you to sneakily grab a cookie, only for you to swat his hand away.

"They're hot, silly!", you scolded, using a gloved hand to pick one up and mouth feed him after having blown on it for precaution.

He took a bite, humming in satisfaction, "Amazing."

"Right?", you giggled, beginning to take off your apron and mittens, not at all minding the non existent distance between you both.

You were absentmided, clearly not paying attention to Jungkook or what was running through his mind. His brain was still on the stream and all the filthy words you'd said only a few hours ago, body still buzzing with lust, which was how he found himself acting without thinking.

Without much warning, he braved it, hand coming to your chin and lifting your face to his own, closing the gap with a soft sigh against your lips.

He pecked at you innocently, landing a more languid kiss on your lips after a few seconds. You kissed back one or two times before suddenly squeaking against him, hands coming to his chest to push him away in shock.

"Jungkook, wait," you murmured, "Stop," you turned your head to the side to avoid his lips.

He pulled away apprehensively, mortified at your rejection, "I- I'm sorry, I thought-"

"I ... I don't want to sleep with you, Jungkook. It's not like that," you avoided his eyes, looking down rather than at him.

His face burned and his heart broke. He was beyond embarrassed at having done such a thing and receiving rejection in return. It had taken an insane amount of balls for him to do so, only for him to fuck things up.

"I'm so sorry, I'll-"

"Jungkook, it's fine. Don't worry about it," you tried to alleviate things to no avail.

"I- I gotta go. I'll see you later," were his last words before running out of your penthouse, embarrassed at how badly he felt he'd fucked things up.

He made it to his own penthouse without once looking back, feeling nothing but mortification at the situation he'd put himself in.

Did you really hold no interest in him? You'd said he was the only person who managed to get you off, that you loved his voice and his videos. You'd commented all the filthy things you wanted to do to him in his streams. You were currently letting him live in a luxury penthouse for free and paying him upwards of $3,000 dollars per week just so he could keep doing his streams. Where had he read things wrong?

On top of it all, he still wanted you so badly. That mere kiss had reignited all the arousal he had felt prior to coming over to your place tonight.

You had kissed back for a few moments, and that was enough for Jungkook's pathetic self to reach into his pants and grab onto his hard cock as soon as he made it back to his bed. He tortured himself with thoughts of you, picturing what you'd look like under those shorts.

Thinking back to the sight of you bent over, he got on his knees, grabbing onto a pillow and positioning it in front of him as he humped into it, hand still playing with his cock. The sight must've been pathetic, but he just felt so needy for you. That single sigh you'd released against his lips was more than enough to feed into his wicked imagination, making his eyes roll back at the image he'd conjured in his head.

He found his end like this, pathetic and alone in a room that belonged to you. When it was all said and done, he went to sleep with a lump in his throat, not knowing how he'd face you again after tonight.

You made various attempts at contacting him throughout the following week, only to receive no answer.

Jungkook didn't leave the penthouse nor did he do any streams for those seven days. He felt as if he'd been broken up with, and felt extremely terrified as to what this meant for his future. He had already let go of his lease at his previous apartment and had quit both his jobs. There was nothing to his name anymore other than the money you'd given him that he'd saved up. What was he supposed to do now?

Another worry of his was how you may be feeling at the moment. You considered him a friend at the very least, so disappearing on you like that made him feel like a terrible person. Ungrateful was what he was.

On the eighth day of icing you out was when he finally grew the balls to go see you again. Without warning, much like before, he went into your place, finding you at your balcony, back facing him like last time.

You must've sensed his presence, turning around and widening your eyes when you saw him.

"Jungkook-"

"Can we ... Can we pretend that never happened?", he asked apprehensively, knowing it was a fruitless solution but asking anyways.

You looked conflicted at his suggestion, taking a moment to think it over before making eye contact with him again, "Okay," you gave him a tight smile, "We'll pretend it never happened."

You said it with such a decisive tone that Jungkook almost didn't catch the pained look in your eyes. But as he had suggested, he pretended not to notice, opting to bring things back to the way they were before.

It only took a few weeks for Jungkook's mind to become rotten again.

It seemed to be easier for you than for him to act as if things never happened. Other than some awkwardness that first night, you acted completely normal afterwards. You treated him as friendly as you had before, even being touchier now. The only thing that had changed was that you didn't tune into his streams anymore. This pained him, as it fully confirmed your lack of romantic or sexual interest in him, but he tried to cope with it.

Except he couldn't do that for too long. Within those weeks, his resolve continued to break as his mind and body ached for him to beg you for just one chance. He wouldn't run this time. If this ruined everything, then so be it. He couldn't live like this anymore.

It was one random afternoon in which he headed to your place unannounced as per usual, making his way to your room, where Taehyung had informed him you were currently at.

You were in your walk-in closet, reorganizing some things, it seemed, when you acknowledged his presence with a quick hi.

Against his better judgment, he interrupted you, turning you around and making you face him, hands holding onto your own. With a concerned look in your eye, you stared back at him with curiosity, verbalizing your concern before he began speaking.

The lump in his throat was already there, and the frustration in his voice as evident as he spoke.

"I dont- I don't understand. Why don't you want me? I thought all this time that- that you may have liked me," he began, already exasperated, "I- I want you so badly ... I can't think of anything else. You're all I think about," he slowly leaned down into your neck at every word spoken, hands tightening around your own, "Please ... Give me one chance ... I- I don't care about the money," he braved a trace of his lips against your neck, pressing a few hot kisses when you didn't push him away, "I'll give it all back, I don't care, just- just please ... I need to have you. Let me have you just this once," he practically whimpered between kisses to your skin, sighing when your hands squeezed his own.

Without responding, you nosed his cheek, nudging him to face you. Your eyes were on his lips and your breath heavy, your breasts rising along with every breath. Your lips found his own with a heavy kiss, invading all his senses immediately.

"Okay, Kookie, you- you can have me ... I'll- I'll let you ..." you couldn't continue due to his needy tongue slipping into your mouth, body pushing your own against your closet wall and hands wrapping around your waist.

He lost control of himself early on, hands feeling at every inch of your body with an untamed desperation. Hands squeezed at every curve as he attempted to mold you against his own body. His breathy sighs landed in your lips, groaning any time you'd moan in return.

"T-thank you. Fuck, thank you, thank you, thank you," he rambled on into your lips, only interrupted when your hand went to the back of his head and forcefully pulled him closer.

His lips trailed down to your neck, sensual as they left love bites in their wake. He made it all the way to your chest, managing to nose your tank top out of the way and reveal a bare breast. With a groan, his lips wrapped around your nipple, licking and tugging at it in desperation.

"Kookie ..." you breathed out, "Take me to bed ..."

He needed no further instruction, walking you back messily, as he refused to disconnect his hands or lips from your body. When you landed on the bed, he hovered over you, kissing at every bare inch available to him, drinking in every sigh you let out.

Once he made his way to your thighs, he sucked at the supple skin, breathing in the natural scent of your body. Above him, you dug your nails into his hair, encouraging every kiss without needing so much as a word. Jungkook was reeling at the mere opportunity to have you. He was on a high he'd never experienced before.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," he mumbled into your skin, "Smell so good, fuck," he murmured to himself when his lips made their way closer to your center, frustrated at the cloth preventing him from rubbing his nose against the source of the heavenly scent.

His hands went to your shorts, silently aiding you in removing them as you lifted your hips to make it easier for him. All at once, your panties came off with them, leaving a small trail of slick behind. You threw off your shirt in the meantime. Jungkook's mind was already muddled with arousal, and the sight only made it worse. A groan was the last thing to leave his lips before they became occupied by your cunt, continuing to let out muffler sounds of desire against your cunt.

"K-kookie!", you cried out, "So good, fuck. Good fucking boy ..." you moaned whilst pushing his head further into you.

And he adored it. He needed you to use him shamelessly. He needed your cries and whimpers to imbed into his mind until they were the only thing he remembered. Your taste had already ruined him and your sounds were on their way to bury him even further.

He was a pathetic mess between your legs, crying out as it he were the one receiving the pleasure. Every lick and taste went straight to his cock, rendering him the most pussydrunk he'd ever been.

"It's so good ... Pussy's so fucking good," he whimpered, tongue going back and forth between torturing your clit and toying with your folds up until his tongue became stagnant in licking your arousal out of you, nose perfectly rubbing against your clit.

This caused you to begin canting your hips into his mouth, basically using his face as a glorified toy meant for your unadulterated pleasure. Shamelessly, you used him, letting out whiny cries of his name whilst every single noise went straight to his cock. He attempted to mumble im encouragement against your cunt, but he was far too gone. His eyes were rolled back and his brain a muddled mess.

With all his willpower, he managed to aim his eyes at you, encountering a sight he had only ever dreamed about before. Your eyes were rolled back, mindless and blissed out. Your mouth was agape, occasionally letting out the prettiest sounds known to man. Your hand was toying with your breasts, making Jungkook green with envy that he couldn't entertain every inch of your body all at once.

"'m gonna cum, Jungkook ... Need you to make me cum, f-fuck," you whimpered, hiccuping gasps in between.

He almost felt his own orgasm gnawing at him at that moment, but he needed to hold on. He'd be damned if he didn't feel you wrapped around him before losing himself.

"Cum, p-please ... Wanna taste you so bad, baby. Feel so good against my tongue ... Prettiest cunt, oh fuck," he rambled into your lips, aching for the moment you came.

"K-kookie! Y-yes, yes, just like that," you cried, nails digging into his scalp whilst your end took over, hips grinding harshly against his face.

Drenched in you, Jungkook licked wantonly at you, losing himself in your cunt as he rambled praise at you. The experience was otherworldly to him, making him black out in the immense lust your own pleasure was causing him.

He whimpered and nosed at your pussy, allowing a depraved part of himself to take over. He was on cloud nine at having you melt under him, having to will his hips into staying still as to not accidentally let himself go before he got to have you.

"Hmng, Kookie- Too- too much," you whimpered when his lips wouldn't leave you even after your orgasm had subsided. At some point you had to harshly pull at his hair, getting a depraved moan from him in return before he actually separated himself from you.

Before you could verbalize any praise for him, he made his way back up your body, invading your mouth in a wet mess of a kiss. He pushed your own taste into your mouth, swallowing your groan when you sucked into his tongue needily. His hands finally found the opportunity to feel up your body, hands grabbing at your tits and humming into your mouth at how delicious you felt against him.

"So fucking perfect," he mumbled, "God, fucking girl of my dreams ... Need you so bad- always needed you," he murmured absentmindedly as he got his fill of you.

With a mind of their own, his hips rutted into your own, giving him the friction he'd been craving since the moment you kissed. He would've been content with just the feeling of his clothed cock dragging against your bare pussy, had you not suddenly interrupted him with a whine.

"Kookie, please ... Fuck me. Been wanting you for months," you whined in between kisses.

"Fuck ... Want me? Do you really want me, gorgeous? Tell me," he begged, hips losing control.

"Wanted you since I first saw you, Kookie ... Didn't want to take advantage," you cried when his bulge angled perfectly against the most sensitive part of your cunt, nails digging into his biceps.

"Take advantage! I'll give you anything you want," his kisses went down to your tits, moaning into your skin.

He brought himself almost to completion as he kissed at your body, hips seeking their high from the mere friction, but he robbed himself of his orgasm before he could finish. With mewls in complaint from you, he separated himself from you to unclothe, making his way back to you immediately, almost as if he'd burn if he wasn't pressed up against you.

"'m gonna fuck you so good ... Shit, can't think, just want you wrapped around me so badly," he whimpered as he dragged his tip up and down your cunt, hiccuping whines of need.

"Fuck me, God, Kookie, please," you pleaded in a needy tone Jungkook had never heard from you.

"Anything you want ..." he mumbled as he positioned himself against you, losing all ability to speak when he finally entered you.

As much as Jungkook wanted to verbalize how otherworldly you felt around him, his words left him. He was reduced to a mess of gasps and needy hiccups of your name. Tears formed at the corner of his eyes at how badly he'd needed you all this time, finally fulfilling the desire that had been bugging at him since he met you.

Your walls suffocated him, causing his eyes to roll back at the immense pleasure you were giving him. Nothing his imagination had conjured about you could possibly parallel how good you felt.

"Pussy's so warm for me, fuck ... L-love this pussy," he managed to groan into the skin of your neck. His nonsensical praise was followed by even more senseless words, waxing poetic as he fucked into you.

"Prettiest pussy ... Wanted it all this time, craved it so badly ..."

"Thought about you every time I touched myself ... Needed this cunt wrapped around me."

"How is it so warm? Fuck, it's so warm n tight n all for me, huh? My pussy ..."

"Got so fucking sad when you rejected me ... W-wanted you to watch my streams ... They were all for you, f-fuck. Thought of you only."

You tightened particularly harsh after that last comment, finally responding with a shuddered breath of your own.

"I- I kept watching. I was so embarrassed, I used another burner," you revealed between gasps, "Touched myself hoping you'd come b-back and fuck me ..."

This knowledge made him lose his mind — the little of it he still had left. His eyes rolled back and his hips lost their composure. Strong arms lifted your legs further up his frame, with Jungkook now pistoning into you with an intensity that had both of you wailing. No more words could be exchanged when you were so lost in pleasure.

The thought of you wanting him as much as he did you — simply holding back due to not wanting to put any pressure on him or scare him off — made any last sense of sanity leave him. His cock hammered against your cunt as if he hated you, seeking his high whilst his hand snuck down to toy at your puffy clit.

He knew you were sensitive from your previous orgasm, groaning deep within his chest when his suspicions about your incoming high were confirmed by the sudden tightness of your cunt. This was how his own orgasm found him, dragging him down right with you.

His lips found yours, muffling any cries of pleasure by shoving his tongue in your mouth and swallowing every noise that attempted to leave your lips.

Even through the sensitivity of your subsiding orgasms, his hips did not halt, making him whine at how painfully good it all felt. If it hadn't been for your whines in protest, he would've continued until you were both crying. His body had no limit when it came to you.

Nuzzling against you, he kissed at whatever skin was available to him, humming at how soft you felt. Your hands caressed at him, pressing him onto you with a satisfied hum in return.

He relished in the silence for a while, shuffling so he could lay beside you without having to pull out. He could feel some of his cum spilling out of your cunt, causing him to scrunch up his nose. You must've noticed this, giggling at him.

"What?", he challenged, taking a teasing nibble from your skin.

"You act so shy, yet you fuck me an inch from my life," you laugh, nudging him for a kiss.

"I already embarrassed myself in front of you so many times, I needed to make a good impression," he rebutted.

"You made a good impression months ago, Jungkookie. Why do you think I spend thousands on you every month?", you teased, knowing he'd be too sheepish to come up with a comeback to that.

"Well, m-maybe you should stop paying me if we're going to be dating now," he braved, nervous despite his confident tone (and despite his cock still being buried deep in you).

"Oh? Dating? I don't recall anyone asking me out?"

He groaned, nibbling at you again and grinning at your giggle.

"Will you, Y/N, owner of my dick and heart, do me the honor of going out with me?"

You laughed again, making his cock twitch at the sudden vibration, "Hmm. Fuck me again and I'll think about it," you went to kiss him again.

It was hard to kiss you back with the smile taking over his face, but he did his best, flipping around to hover over you again, leaning down to kiss you.

"With pleasure ..."

to read short 2.2k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content:

wc: 742 (teaser); 2276 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"How come you don't stream anymore?", you asked whilst running your hands through your boyfriend's fluffy hair, enjoying the way he nuzzled into your chest for the utmost comfort.

"Hmm," he pondered for a bit, "I don't really need to anymore. Plus, it feels kinda wrong now that I have a girlfriend."

You hummed at that. He had a point. You were quite possessive over him ever since you became official, so it was probably for the best he didn't stream that often nowadays. However, you had to admit, you missed that period of time in which he'd do lewd acts on screen while you watched and egged him on on the chat. Those were the moments in which he was most vulnerable.

There were also a few instances after becoming official in which he'd stream while you were watching from behind the scenes, giving you the best view of the pathetic mess he'd become. However, these became scarce after some time.

"Why do you ask?", he added after a while.

Shrugging, you cuddled closer to him, "I dunno. I kinda miss watching you sometimes."

At this, he repositioned himself, twisting his neck so he could face you, "Huh?"

It was a kind of an embarrassing and maybe voyeuristic thing, but you did feel some weird enjoyment out of being able to provide for Jungkook as he jerked off to an audience back when you'd first met him. Knowing that it was you who could give him what he needed while others could only watch without having any sort of connection made you feel powerful. It made you feel like you had some sort of ownership over him. The nature of the dynamic was thrilling to you.

This was something you hadn't thoroughly explored with Jungkook yet. After becoming a couple, you had halted all the transactions to him upon his request. He claimed that he didn't want you to feel like his attraction to you had been born out of interest (something which he was able to demonstrate time and time again). Despite your constant insistence that you'd never feel that way, he insisted, though still remained living with you free of charge. He explored other fields of interest and began working a freelance job he enjoyed (with your help), shifting your dynamic into a more ordinary one.

You thoroughly agreed with any and every change he deemed necessary in order to feel more comfortable with your relationship. But despite this, you still missed the days in which you felt like Jungkook was eating at the palm of your hand — the power and control that came with it and the desperation it had driven into Jungkook up until the point of desperation in which he finally begged to have you.

"I assumed you'd be more possessive than that," he responded, "I thought you'd rather keep me to yourself."

"That's kinda true, but ... I also liked that, uh, desperation you used to show in your streams," you blushed at your own admission.

"Oh," he breathed, "W-well, I could always-"

"No, Kookie, I don't want to push you to do something you wouldn't want to do anymore," you reassured, shuffling on the couch so he'd be able to sit up and face you.

"I just mean- if there's anything you want me to do, I'll do it. You're my girlfriend, and you've already done so much for me, y'know? There's nothing I wouldn't do for you," he rebutted, staring at you with nothing but sincerity in his eyes.

You bit your lip, pondering whether or not you wanted your boyfriend to know about the sinister thoughts you'd always had about him — the thoughts of him in utter desperation as you gave him whatever it was he needed most at that moment.

But there wad something in his eyes; a look that showed you that his words were truthful. The boy wanted nothing more than to please you. He'd do anything you wanted, and that thought made you burn inside.

This was how you found yourself sitting in front of a deprived Jungkook by the end of the night, tied up and already on the verge of his third stolen orgasm of the night. As wicked as you felt, his eyes continued to tell the truth — he was enthralled by it all. As much as you loved a desperate Jungkook, it seemed as if he loved to be taken care of just as much.

...

find the 18+ continuation on kofi or patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

#bts imagine #bts scenario #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #jungkook x reader

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moonlight-prose · 1 month

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THE GRAVE OF LUST

a/n: this is a very random idea i had of logan not necessarily being able to go at it as he used to. which like yes i love the thought of getting my back snapped by a more energetic logan. this version of him has my heart in ways i'll never be able to explain. it's short but enjoy! divider by the lovely @saradika-graphics.

summary: when his body doesn't work as it used to and the weary bones that poison his soul begin to ache, you take the lead in a dance you know well.

OR giving old man logan sloppy head that he'll think about in the grave and after.

word count: 2k

pairing: old man!logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, weary old man logan, domestic vibes, oral (m receiving), spit kink, cumplay, dirty talk, he may be older but he's filthier, unedited + not betad but we live and die by the fucking pen.

He doesn't touch you quickly anymore. His hands don't shove clothes off your curves and grasp your flesh with a growl of impatience. No, he no longer holds the stamina of a younger him who could spend hours between your thighs. His bones are weary, old phantom wounds ache where they shouldn't, and he feels himself step closer to his grave with each day that passes.

His hands move at a steady pace, tugging the fabric of your nightgown up inch by inch. Sleep lingers at the edge of his mind. The knowledge that he'll have to get up early with the sun still hidden from the sky. Yet you'll be here asleep—dreaming of his calloused palms on your soft skin. How he burned himself into your ribs with a kiss.

"C'mere," he mumbled, eyes narrowed and lips parted with a deep withered breath. "Let me touch you."

Denial would be a false tale on your tongue. Depriving yourself of him wasn't an option anymore. When times like this were found few and far between and his touch became a lingering memory in the back of your mind.

You couldn't remember the last time you tasted him. The last time he sunk into your wet heat with a solid groan—the muscles of his back screaming as he held his body above yours.

Age was cruel to a man who used to be so virile. He could recall the hours he took to worship your body—mold you beneath the warmth of his palms. But doing that more often wasn't something he was capable of. He still longed for you. The sounds you made, the way your face twisted in pleasure as you came on his cock, fingers, face. He craved it some nights. He felt it eat him alive.

Tonight was no different.

"How?" you breathed, eyes wide and pleading.

You were so fucking sweet he didn't even have to convince you of this. So ready to let him bring you to that peak of bliss. He could smell the heady scent of your pussy—the way it called to him with shouts of need. And if he was a younger man...he'd have you pinned beneath him. He'd hammer his hips into yours until bruises formed beneath the skin—down into the very muscles of your legs.

His graying hair and weathered face did nothing to stop the lust that poured into your face. Your eyes still drooped, mouth open and chest heaving. And Logan was a fortunate fucking man that you were still here.

So unlike his younger self, he let you take the lead.

"Can I touch you?" you asked so nicely. He groaned at the sound of it, jutting his chin down in a nod as you grasped the button of his jeans.

Any other night you'd let him take you. Give into his languid touches until you came wherever he wanted you to come. This was a rarity the longer you spent bound together by the strings of fate.

Logan fucking loved it. He ached for it on days spent away from you—time he'd never get back. But when he'd find his way home and curl his body around yours, he found that sleep was a better option. You'd heartily agree. If it wasn't for the pounding ache between your thighs each time you caught his eye. Each chance you got to see the thick arms and sun kissed skin that lay beneath his white button downs.

"Been dreamin' about this." His voice echoed with a rasp you'd grown to love. One that screamed exhaustion, yet licked a line of heat up your spine. "Such pretty fuckin' lips."

His thumb dug into the curve of your bottom lip, pulling at it until your mouth popped open. Allowing his finger to press against your tongue—saliva building at the thought of getting him in your mouth. Of him using your throat to get himself off.

You didn't even care if you finished. You just wanted to feel him.

"You're my good girl right?" A moan spilled past your spread lips, eyes fluttering when his pants slipped down and cock came free. "Yeah you are."

"Logan," you sighed. He dragged your spit across your cheek; thumb and forefinger gripped your chin to tilt your head close enough to kiss him. Only to hold you there.

"Keep 'em open baby."

The feel of his length throbbing so close to your chest—precum dotting the tip—drove you mad. You wanted him closer. Wanted to feel the bruising ache at the back of your throat as he pushed too far. Your fingers wrapped around him gently, causing him to hiss at your cold touch. The reminder to take it slow, savor him, rang in your ears. Yet the way he looked at you with a feral hunger you felt in your heart shoved those thoughts to the side.

Within his life there's only been a handful of moments he wished he could go back to. Nearly all of them were with you on nights such as this. When the moon hung low in the sky and dawn felt eons away. If he was lucky he wouldn't have to wake up tomorrow, he'd get to wake up naked by your side and bury himself in your pretty cunt.

Logan was rarely lucky.

His spit landed on your tongue, splattering against the corner of your mouth. He led your mouth down with a firm grip until you hovered directly over his cock. The dark red at the tip made you clench around nothing—the ache spreading to the base of your stomach. Screaming for you to take it. Put your mouth on him and make him finish down your throat.

"There we go," he murmured, watching his spit and yours fall from your mouth—landing directly on his twitching cock. "Pretty ain't it."

"Yeah," you gasped, nails digging into the v of his hips. "Can I taste you? Please."

The deep echo of his laugh shot through your body like a bullet. You could feel it burrow deep within, spreading across each nerve ending and vein. Being so close to what you wanted felt like torture, but with Logan you knew it would be worth it in the end. He never left you wanting.

"'Course honey." His hand cupped the back of your neck, leading you with a soft touch. "It's yours."

Yours. Yours. Yours.

With a moan, you wrapped your lips around the head of him—tongue sliding through the slit. A ragged groan tore from his chest, his eyes boring a hole into the side of your face. The knowledge that he was so far gone for you left a pleasant thrill of warmth to grow in your stomach. This strong, capable man would bend at his knees simply to see you smile.

He was your devotee and you'd become his goddess.

"Fuckin' perfect." His words were a spit of need, fingers digging down into your skin with each flick of your tongue.

You merely held him there. In your mouth with spit coating the hand wrapped around the base of him. His taste flooded your mouth, each drop a nectar you would never have enough of. And he let you have your fill. He lay still on the bed, his breaths coupled with moans as you took your time.

Slipping him a bit deeper, you felt his thighs shift beneath you—a shuddered sigh echoing the small bedroom. You'd barely begun and yet he felt the high of dizziness begin to pull at his mind. Effectively killing whatever sleep called out to him.

"Take a little more for me." He sounded gone. Your lips spread into a smile, bobbing your head and swallowing a bit more with each small thrust. "Fuck yeah. Just like that."

He pushed at the back of your throat, your jaw strained under the width of him. Tears spilled from the corner of your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. And he caught them with his thumb, mixing the salt with what spit of his still remained along your skin. Tilting your head slightly, you felt him slip down your throat—your nose finding the graying curls at his base.

The loud growl that ripped through his body was all the reward you needed. He was on the fucking edge. Barely hanging on by the skin of his teeth. And he knew you could tell. His thighs jolted—stomach tensing—and when your hand slipped down to tug at his balls, thumb finding the spot between, he lost it.

Snarling your name, he thrust his hips up into your mouth and felt you choke on him. Your throat constricted perfectly with each cant of his hips down into you. He gave you the opportunity to push him off—get some air down your lungs. You let him keep going—eyes fixed on the way his face screwed up in pleasure. His teeth bared and throat extended.

Another push of your thumb sent him flying over the edge with a shout. The salty tang of him filled your mouth, spilling down your throat with rope after rope of cum. And you swallowed it all despite the searing burn that spread along your esophagus. You took every fucking drop of him and allowed some to remain on your tongue.

To prove that you could take whatever he wanted to give.

"I fuckin' love you," he breathed, cupping your jaw and grinning when you stuck out your tongue—a pool of his spend dripping down your chin.

His fingers scooped it out of your mouth before you could swallow. "Up." He slapped your ass, moving you up and into his lap. "Your turn."

"I’m okay."

The glare he gave you burned its way to your lungs. "Good girls get rewarded." His fingers dipped down beneath your nightgown—pleased to find you bare—and spread his cum along the lips of your pussy. "Don't you want your reward bub?"

"Yes," you whimpered, gripping at his hair. "I do."

"Then take it."

Refusing was no longer an option when the bliss you'd been searching for finally flared to life in your body. His fingers plunged into you, curling and seeking the spot he always found with ease. And with a sharp gasp—your hand yanking at his hair—he knew he'd found it. He smiled at the sight of you. Head back and eyes shut as you fucked yourself on his hand.

"Tell me," he said. Gripping your chin, his lips met yours in a messy kiss of teeth and tongues. He could taste himself in your mouth. His chest rumbled with a soft sigh.

"I love you." The base of his hand ground into your clit, fingers pounding up quicker—faster. And your words pitched high with each thrust.

"I know you do." He kissed your throat, the heat of your body rubbing against his made his cock twitch in interest again. "Love you too baby."

"Fuck!" The coil in your stomach began to unravel rapidly, your body shattering into pieces you'd never find again. And he clutched you tightly to his chest. He watched in rapture at the sight of you shaking, hips bucking against his hand in quick thrusts. "Logan."

Pride bloomed in his chest. "You're perfect."

You collapsed onto his bare chest, spent and exhausted. The final tendrils of pleasure began to ebb out of your body, suddenly replaced by the comfort of him there. You pressed your lips to the center of his chest, teeth dragging along the scarred skin. And he basked in your attention—his hand trailing down your spine to knead the flesh of your ass.

"We should do that more often," you teased, lips finding his in a soft kiss.

He huffed, his eyes falling shut. "I'm too old for that."

"Believe it or not, but you're sexier older."

"Yeah?" He stirred against your stomach. "You like me old and gray?"

"Absolutely."

He smirked, pushing you up his body with slow movements. "Prove it."

#I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHERE THIS CAME FROM #i wrote it so fast and pretty sure i blacked out #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x f!reader #logan howlett x y/n #logan howlett x you #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine x y/n #my writing

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rieamena · 6 days

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"mama!"

your seven year old daughter climbed onto your bed, bouncing on the mattress before settling into your warm embrace under the blankets. running a hand through her pink hair, you answered softly, "yes, sweetheart?"

it was almost like your genes didn't put up a fight at all. your child, chikara, was the spitting image of her father, your husband, ryomen sukuna. same hair, same face shape, same facial features, the only thing that seemed to be your contribution was her personality, and even then, sometimes you'll see your husband's characteristic scowl on her little face

"how did you and daddy meet?" "well, it was–"

"what's goin' on in here? conspiring against me?" sukuna's voice filled the room as he leaned against the door frame, a cheeky smirk on his face. you saw your daughter's face brighten up as she jumped down to run to her father, "daddy! daddy! mommy's gonna tell the story of when you first met!" sukuna immediately looked at you, his index finger barely being fully wrapped by his daughter's hand

"she asked me to. guess watching all those romantic dramas with her rubbed off on her." you giggled, earning a scowl from him. "shut it woman. you know i hate them." "yeah..., that's definitely why we watch 90 day fiance every sunday together." "you got a problem with— stop tryna move me brat!"

"but daddyyyyy," she whined, still pushing against sukuna's body, "i don't wanna miss mommy's story!" "we're literally seven feet away from her."

your daughter pouted and stopped trying to get her dad to move. letting go of his finger, and leaving him at the doorway, chikara plopped herself down at your side with wide, eager eyes, "go on, mommy, tell me! i wanna know everything."

you smiled, looking at sukuna, who rolled his eyes but gave a small nod. "alright, sweetheart. it all started one day in the park when i was watching over megumi, and your dad was taking care of his younger brother, yuuji…"

"yuuji?" chikara interrupted, her face lighting up. "uncle yuuji was there too?"

"yep, yuuji was just a little kid back then," you said with a soft laugh. "he was running around, being his usual energetic self, when he tripped and scraped his knee. your dad, being the great caretaker he is—"

"—i was plenty good at it," sukuna muttered

you shot him a look and continued, "—didn't seem too worried. he told yuuji to stop crying."

"i did not say it like that," sukuna cut in, pushing off the doorframe and coming closer to the bed. "i told him to toughen up. gotta learn how to handle a few scrapes."

your daughter giggled, clearly entertained by the back-and-forth. "but mommy's a nurse, so she went over to help, right?"

"exactly. i couldn't just sit there watching, so i went over, knelt down, and started cleaning yuuji's knee. and i told your father—" you paused, giving sukuna a mischievous smile, "—that he should care more about his son instead of telling him to stop crying."

your daughter gasped dramatically, eyes wide with anticipation. sukuna groaned, running a hand over his face. "i knew you'd bring that up."

"and what did daddy say?" she asked, leaning in as if she could hardly wait

"he looked at me and said, 'that's not my son, that's my brother,'" you mimicked sukuna’s low, irritated tone. "i was so embarrassed!" sukuna chuckled at the memory, shaking his head. "you should've seen your mom’s face. all high and mighty, like she was about to call child protection services on me or something."

you couldn't help but laugh, too. "anyway, i patched yuuji up, and to make up for the misunderstanding, your dad suggested we set up a playdate for yuuji and megumi."

"a playdate?"

"yup," you nodded. "though i think your dad might've had other reasons for giving me his number." sukuna scoffed, folding his arms. "that didn’t happen."

you raised an eyebrow at him. "oh? so your eyes didn’t sparkle when i smiled and told you goodbye?" sukuna groaned again, this time louder. "my eyes did not do that."

chikara giggled harder, clearly enjoying the banter. "i think daddy liked you right away!" you smiled softly. "maybe he did. i mean, why else would he take me to a skate park for our first date?" sukuna rolled his eyes. "you said you wanted to learn how to skate. i was just being nice."

"uh-huh. sure," you teased. "and he was so good at it, zooming around, showing off. i'll admit..., he did look kinda cool! i, on the other hand, spent most of the time falling."

"which is why i had to keep catching you," sukuna added, sliding into the empty space next to you on the bed. "mommy fell? did daddy save you?" chikara asked, her face lighting up at the idea

sukuna ruffled her pink hair. "more like i had to stop her from breaking every bone in her body." you rolled your eyes at him. "i wasn't that bad."

"yes, you were," sukuna said, smirking. "you almost took me down with you half the time." smiling at the memory, you leaned in to kiss your daughter's forehead. "but it was fun. and after that, we went out for ice cream, and your dad actually smiled for real that time."

"daddy smiled? really?"

sukuna shot you a half-hearted glare. "i smile."

"not back then you didn't," you teased, poking his arm. chikara turned to her dad, beaming. "i wanna learn to skate, too, just like you and mommy!" sukuna chuckled, wrapping an arm around her

"maybe one day, brat. but you’re probably gonna fall as much as your mom did."

"hey!"

gulp... sorry if sukuna is ooc, im tired and im on my period but i really liked this request so...

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#— ❀ rieamena writes!#— ❀ rieamena answers!#rieamena #riea #jujitsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jjk ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #ryomen x reader #ryomen fluff #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x you

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ghostdeals · 2 months

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It bother me so much that people misunderstand sayaka miki's descent into madness in madoka magica. She doesnt become a witch "just because of a boy." Sayaka is a character who ties all her self worth into being in service of others. We can see this right from the start with her idolization of mami and everything that she was. She saw mami as this "perfect hero" even though mami i would say is mentally the weakest of the holy quintet. In the timelines where mami finds out about the incubator's true goals she always immediately breaks and goes crazy, trying to kill the other girls in her own twisted way of trying to "save them". Instead of seeing the fragile person that mami was, sayaka instead sort of treats her as a martyr, a goal to achieve. We continue on to sayaka's magical girl wish. Instead of wishing for something for herself, she instead sells her soul for the sake of kyousuke. Then when he starts dating hitomi she spirals not because she's sad about the rejection but because she feels replaced in his life, that he doesn't need or want her around anymore. Then she throws herself into her magical girl work not seeing that she's harming herself because she justifies it with "well im saving people that means what im doing is a good thing." She doesn't see that she's becoming more sloppy, more ruthless until its too late. It's only in the end when she turns into a witch that her story gets resolved.

Sayaka Miki is an incredibly sad character to me. While her actions have the illusion of being selfless and "for the greater good" she is actually incredibly selfishly motivated. Everything she does is in service of wanting praise and admiration from the people she cares about. If she helps kyousuke he'll appreciate her and love her, if she becomes a hero she'll receive praise and admiration for being a good person. This is why it is important that of all people it was kyoko that fought sayaka in the end. To homura, sayaka is someone to be saved. To mami, sayaka is her sweet apprentice/younger sister figure. To madoka, sayaka is her energetic and happy go lucky friend. Kyoko is the only one who from the start called sayaka out on her bullshit, seeing straight through her. And at the end, kyoko is the one who truly accepts sayaka. Sayaka as the witch Oktavia von Seckendorff is stated multiple times in official material to be "looking for love." In the end it it kyoko who gives her that love. Even when sayaka has lost her humanity it is kyoko who accepts her for the entirety of who sayaka is with all of her selfishness and desires. She is the one who sees what sayaka has become and stays together with her till both of their ends. Kyoko choosing to die with sayaka is her saying "I'm here for you, i know all of you, and I will love you regardless."

#pmmm #puella magi madoka magica #sayaka miki #kyoko sakura #im just rambling man #cant wait for the 4th movie #i made this to procrastinate on my finals

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chelseeebe · 4 months

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truth or dare

18+. mdni. smuuuut. yeah man it’s really just smut. eddie munson x female reader.

a/n: not sure if i really like this but i wanted to post something while i work on this other long ass thing that may never see the light of day el oh el a continuation to gimme a hand and bump n’ grind or can absolutely be read on it’s own!

steve and robin had made the right call, leaving a few hours ago before the storm really hit.

eddie’d stupidly offered another joint, not wanting to let you go so soon. optimistic that maybe something would happen after those two had cleared off.

you’d been darting around it all evening, watching the movie with your hand under the blanket, stroking his thigh. inadvertently, or perhaps purposefully, making his cock shift with every length of your hand.

you peer out of the window, clicking your tongue against the back of your teeth, “i don’t think i can drive,” turning back to face him, “it’s really comin’ down out there,” a hint of satisfaction in your voice.

“i’m sure wayne won’t mind if you crash here,” shrugging softly.

you used to stay around a lot when you were slightly younger, back when touch was innocent and there weren’t all these complicated layers to your relationship.

“can you handle that?”

his eyes roll back, “shut up,” sitting back in his spot on the couch. anticipating spending the night here rather than in his bed, desperate to prove that he could handle it.

“whatcha wanna do?” you sing, pursing your lips.

“i dunno,” he shrugs, “we could watch another movie?” knowing that ultimately, another movie would lead to you touching his thigh until he came or something.

“that’s boring,” scowling at his suggestion, “i mean.. we are stuck in here,” biting on your bottom lip, “let’s play a game,” you propose, cocking your head, “truth or dare.”

eddie groans, an unwilling participant in your silly little games.

“come on,” offering zero incentive for him to play, “it’ll be fun,” taking another swig of the surely luke-warm beer. “truth or dare?”

there is not a single bone in his body that wants to play with you. no doubt you’d have him confessing to something embarrassing or doing something dangerous or stupid.

“dare,” he says flatly, hoping you’ll dare him to jump out of the window or something.

“i dare you..” you ponder for only a second, “to take your shirt off.”

“wh-,” he starts, mouth falling open, “well i dare you to take your shirt off.”

“it’s not my turn, idiot,” pursing your lips, “off.. now.”

pouting your lips, watching carefully as he lifts his shirt off, tossing it to the other side of the room.

“alright,” honing in on this stupid game, “truth or dare?”

“dare.”

eddie’s eyes light up, “take your shirt off,” immediately getting his own back.

“you’re supposed to say i dare you before your dare,” tutting at his impatience, though you do as he says.

lifting your shirt over your head, revealing the lacy bra you had most definitely chosen on purpose. maybe this was your plan all along, waiting to get him alone to inflict your cruel wrath upon him.

he ogles just enough to not have you mention anything, diverting his attention back to whatever drivel was on the tv. desperate to just get over this dancing around each other and get to the inevitable.

“truth or dare?” you ask again, poking his leg with your foot.

“do we have to play?” eddie whines.

“yes.”

“okay truth,” he spits, leaning back against the cushions.

“why didn’t it work out with you and chrissy?”

he groans again, already sick of this, “we wanted different things,” different things being you, he means.

“like what? i thought you were testing the waters or whatever?” mocking him with his own words.

“you. you jerked me off and ruined my life forever, is that what you wanted me to say?”

you ponder in silence for a moment before that god awful smirk creeps onto your face, “actually yes, that’s exactly what i wanted you to say,” crossing your legs, all self-righteous and smug.

it’s not like you didn’t already know this, it was fairly obviously to anyone with eyes and two brain cells to rub together.

“your turn,” smiling pointedly at you, “truth or dare?”

you hum, contemplating your options, whatever you picked, he was surely going to make it worth his while.

“dare.”

“alright,” eddie sits up straight, poking his tongue into his cheek, “i dare you to run around outside in your underwear,” if you wanted to play stupid games, you could win stupid prizes too.

your smile grows, taking over your entire face, “fine,” standing from your spot on the floor, shimmying out of your jeans right in front of him.

he jumps up, rushing to the door as you bound outside, filling the silent trailer park with your squeals and squeaks.

eddie watches in quiet amazement, more focused on the way your tits move with every bound, your lacy panties framing your jiggling ass perfectly. he’s close to drooling, turning into a slobbering mess at the sight of you literally frolicking in your panties. he was a pathetic man, and he knew it.

you turn, running full speed back into the door, teeth chattering and your hands trembling from the cold. barrelling straight past him, back into the warmth, lashes coated in tiny, intricate snowflakes.

“fuck!” you screech, “you asshole,” picking up his discarded shirt to slip on instead of your own. he wishes you hadn’t. seeing you half naked in his shirt was far worse than seeing you actually naked.

eddie snickers, closing the door all the while trying to keep his composure.

a smirk erupts onto your face, something ticking away in your brain before you stomp over, grabbing his cheeks with your ice cold hands, grinning with pure self satisfaction.

he hollers, grabbing your wrists in defence. it becomes a flailing sort of dance, with you trying to keep your cold hands on his face and him fighting to get you away. a mixture of expletives fill the trailer, screeching over one another as you move around the room.

you trip over one of the discarded bottles on the floor, sending you flying back onto the couch, still breathlessly cursing him out.

eddie takes the only logical step, pouncing on top of your flailing body, bounding your arms together at the wrist, heaving for breath.

he freezes, the realisation that for once he had all the power dawning upon him, unequipped for the sudden change in dynamic.

he can feel you, underneath him, pressed into the couch by his body, sending shivers down his spine.

“you gonna do something or what?” you snark, no longer trying to wriggle free, accepting and even pleased in your defeat.

“yeah,” he adds meekly, despite not making an attempt to actually do something.

your brows thread together, knee sliding up the side of his body, spreading your legs further as his cock perks up in response.

holy fucking shit.

this was it.

or it could be it if he can gather his raucous thoughts enough to make a move.

eddie’s had sex before, multiple times in fact. he doesn’t understand why his hands aren’t doing the thing they should be, why he’s frozen in place, waiting for something to happen.

“we don’t have to, you know?”

fuck. he was going to fuck this up through sheer stupidity.

so instead of letting his brain worm his way out of what would probably be the best moment of his life, he thinks with his dick.

pressing his lips to yours in a hasty, rushed kiss. letting your hands free from his restraint, allowing you to weave your fingers through his hair just like he’d thought so much about.

his hands crawling underneath his shirt, touching your skin for what felt like the first time ever, gliding over your waist, appreciating the soft feel of your skin, lingering for too long.

he doesn’t want to take it off, how many times could he say he’d have sex with you with his shirt on?

you’d already stripped him out of his clothes, leaving nothing to the imagination as his hips grind down against yours, breathing shakily into your mouth.

your lips latch onto his, tongue sliding into his open mouth while your fingers pull gently at his curls.

even when eddie thinks he’s fully in control, you still take charge. rutting your hips upwards, separated by the thin layer of lace and his boxers that most definitely had a hole in them.

there’s a fifty percent chance that he’ll cum right away, already incredibly hard, teetering on the edge.

it’s genuinely incomprehensible that after months and months of longing and edging, this was finally happening. too caught up with trying to keep to your pace to really think about the implications on your relationship too much.

he hopes that this won’t change anything, at least not negatively anyway.

your hand slides down the tiny space left in between your bodies, toying with the waistband of his boxers before slipping in. unable to contain his groan from slipping out and into your mouth.

tugging the fabric down just enough to let his cock out, giving him no time to recover before your fist wraps around the base of his cock, pumping your fingers around the sensitive skin.

“fuck,” he breathes, bottom lip still latched onto yours. no hand had ever come close to yours, filling his thoughts since you’d touched him for the first time.

wayne’s ratty old couch wasn’t exactly the romantic location he’d envisioned this happening in, but beggars can’t be choosers and eddie certainly wasn’t going to complain.

he’s so dumbfounded that any of this is even happening, clumsily fumbling with the lace hem of your underwear, tugging them down haphazardly, with no care or grace.

his previous displays of desperation made sure you didn’t care about his composure, or else you wouldn’t be here.

your lips collide, all teeth and tongues and spit. eddie too focused on the feel of your hand around his cock to care.

he can feel your body shift from underneath, manoeuvring his cock to your soaked entrance, letting out the most ungodly noise as the tip glistens with your slick.

pressing your sweaty forehead against his, begging for his full attention, “look at me,” you insist, running your fingers around his cock, withholding him from full satisfaction.

he does as you ask, finding your wild-eyed gaze, holding it just long enough to slide into your slick cunt, grunting into the hot air that hung around the room.

“fuck,” you bite, weaving your fingers through his hair, tightening your things around his waist.

it’s dizzying. feeling you envelope around him just as he’d imagined countless times before. you’re so warm and so wet, so so wet. eddie can’t help but wonder if this is how you’d felt when you were grinding against him.

nothing could’ve ever prepared him for the fuzzy haze that’d encapsulate his brain, thoughts only of you and your body and your pussy.

his balls slap against your ass, slow and steady, hoping not to bust five seconds in. keeping his eyes on yours, encapsulated by the way they flit between his eyes and his lips.

heaven wouldn’t be too far off this, he thinks.

his rhythm is neither here nor there but he was trying, filling you to the hilt and then pulling back out again.

every soft, melodic gasp and cry you made was echoing through his brain, spurring him on to make them louder.

purely intoxicated with your pussy, gasping for more as he slams against your hips.

this wasn’t going to last long but he sure as shit was going to make it worthwhile.

you writhe underneath his body, fingernails grazing against his scalp, gentle and yet demanding.

“sh-shit eds,” you pant, jaw slack with your tongue practically lolling out of your head.

just hearing you moan his name has detrimental effects on his brain chemistry. his eyelids struggle, fluttering open just enough to meet your glossy eyes, pupils blown out and crazy. this was going to wreck him for the rest of his life, cursed forever by the image of you and your parted lips. the way you wail his name becoming a tune he’d revisit constantly.

he’d love to capture it, one day, if you’d let him.

no one would ever come close to you, your cunt and your god forsaken sighs. eddie promises to himself that if there’s a next time, he’s not leaving until you cum. unsure if he’d be able to control himself but more than willing to take that risk.

his thrusts become sporadic, losing his grip on reality as he teeters closer and closer to the edge. you can see it too, tugging gently on his hair to bring him back to this reality.

pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his mouth, too high off of your own pleasure to aim for accuracy.

eddie’s not sure if he prefers your goading or this softer touch, honestly neither were helping him not to bust his load right now.

“yeah?” you breathe, in response to his hoarse grunts, succumbing to the tightening pressure in his stomach, “you gonna cum?” sighing against his mouth.

he doesn’t want to, not really. hoping this’d last forever and ever because god knows if you’d ever let him touch you again.

hoping desperately to have not wasted his one and only time buried inside of you by cumming in five minutes flat.

but he is going to cum, in fact, he’s dangerously close to doing so immediately. the way you squeeze and tighten around him only accelerating the inevitable, his toes curling and mouth running dry.

he was seeing stars, dancing around the inside of his eyelids. woozy on adrenaline as he pathetically ruts his hips into yours for a final few lousy strokes.

“oh fuck,” eddie rushes, “no- fuck i’m cumming,” his cock slides out, thick ropes of his release covering not only your inner thighs but the couch too. collapsing atop of your perfect body, pinning you to the cushions as he attempts to gain some sort of semblance of control.

his face finds your chest, heaving for breath between your tits, his shirt pulled up just enough for your bra to peep underneath the hem.

“jesus christ,” words vibrating against your skin, almost purring at your fingers combing through his hair.

nothing he could ever dream would match up to that. the neurons in his brain had been frazzled, never to work or compute the way they should, ever again.

he places a measly kiss to your chest, looking up at you through his lashes, an insignificant gesture of appreciation that he felt he owed.

“you good?” you ask, lips twitching into a smile, unsure if you’re mocking him or genuinely concerned. either or would be fine.

“not really,” still floating up above the clouds.

“shut up,” definitely mocking, pulling tufts of his hair back to have him meet your eye fully, “you liked that?”

he nods enthusiastically, pining after your approval like the lovesick little loser he truly was. incredibly, you hadn’t run off into the storm, so maybe you had too.

“good,” abruptly letting go of his hair, his head falling back onto your chest, “get off me, i need a shower,” attempting to peel him off of your body.

eddie knows, or at least hopes, that your snippy, sarcastic comments were made out of love. you showed affection by being a bitch and he showed his by being a stumbling, pathetic loser.

if that was all he had to endure to get anywhere near your pussy again, he’d do it in a heartbeat. each and every time.

wayne’s knuckles wrap against his bedroom door, waking eddie from the already broken sleep he was suffering with, far too excitable to settle down properly. instead he’d spent his hours between drifting in and out of sleep and watching your dreamy face, trying to match his breaths to yours.

he slides out of bed, careful not to wake you, treading carefully to avoid the mountains of crap strewn across the floor.

“what the hell?” wayne whispers angrily, gesturing back to the living room he had neglected to clean. too caught up in you being in his shower and in his bed with his shirt on to care about empty beer bottles and discarded clothes.

“sorry,” eddie squirms, knowing he couldn’t exactly worm his way out of this one. “we had a few beers.. you know,” shrugging coyly. his uncle wasn’t stupid, he definitely did know.

wayne’s eyes narrow, flitting behind eddie to you, sleeping soundly in his bed. thankfully covered by the blanket as you slept in just his shirt.

“what happened there?” raising his brow at his inconspicuous nephew.

he shrugs, and then he grins. that great big toothy grin that wayne couldn’t mistake.

wayne shakes his head, tutting to himself as he backs away from the door, “clean that shit up before i wake up,” before disappearing into his own room.

eddie smiles to himself, sliding back into bed when you stir, humming softly, displeased to have been woken up so early.

“is he mad?” you mumble, muffled by the pillow.

“no.. no, not really,” eddie hushes, turning on his side to face you.

you’re still dozing, not bothering to open your eyes though he didn’t mind, you were peaceful this way, far calmer than your usual self.

“good,” settling into the pillow before slinging your leg over his thigh, pulling yourself closer, “he loves me too much to do anything anyway,” nestling your body into his side.

if the world ended tomorrow, eddie would die a happy man.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson being pathetic #eddie munson x reader

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