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screampied · 30 days ago

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#TRYNA FUCK ME I'M LIKE OKAY! g. suguru

☆ sum. suguru geto wasn’t used to losing a race, especially to a fucking rookie—but you’ve got him confused, intrigued, and… hard? long story short, ever since he hit it he’s never been the same.

wc. 6.8k

warnings. fem! reader, street racer! geto, pwp, unprotected, 2 fast 2 furious references, bratty reader, rivals to lovers ( ? ), geto has a dīck piercing, big size kink, riding, he fucks you on the hood of your car, cunnīlingus, sore loser geto gets humbled lel, overstim, squīrting, dirty talk, praise, petnames.

an. chase atlantic inspired me again </3 same au as this one.

second fucking place. he got second place and he lost to you, a newbie—the newest racer with the prettiest trendy wheels, flashy rims, and a hot pink 2001 honda s2000. stupid, stupid, the reality of losing left a sour taste in geto’s mouth. he can’t remember the last time he’s lost, ever. .

the moment he saw your car bolt in front of him at those last few milliseconds of the race with fiery pink smoke coughing from your steel pipes dusting near his front window, he just knew he lost to you. geto scoffs. “tch,” he’d mumble, slamming his car door shut, and releasing the straps of his custom-made helmet. you leaned against your slick hood, innocently fanning yourself with a pamphlet of the track’s course layout that was given to every racer before glancing at geto. he was quite tall and he looked down at you with a look of intrigue and bitter annoyance. “cheater.”

“excuse me?” you raise a brow. you knew damn well who he was, suguru geto—one of the if not the best street racer in tokyo. notorious for his wins and extremly cocky ego - except this time, your win against him bruised that little detail a bit. a small grin spreads across your glossed lips before your eyes rove up and down his dark leather ripped clothes. “you said somethin’?”

“you heard me, sweetheart,” he utters, bringing a gloved hand up to his face. doing so, geto tucks his sticky black tresses back inside his helmet. he’s so close, that he practically has you cornered against the hot hood of your car and his eyes stare at the medal that’s pinned near the left side of your chest. that gold medal that was supposed to be his. “besides,” and you nearly gasped once you felt your rear tap against the front of your vehicle. “your ‘riding’ could use a ‘lil work, rookie.”

you saw the look in his eyes. he’s challenging you, geto sees you as a potential threat and he wasn’t fond of losing.. ever.

it just wasn’t in his vocabulary.

you don’t know why but beating one of tokyo’s top street racers made cocky pride swell right up in your chest. the same kind of cocky pride that he was used to, and damn were you a force to be reckoned with. he just had to learn that the hard way.

“do i?” you reply, reaching an arm inside of your car to twist the keys out of the ignition. with a roaring sputtering growl, your engine gradually turns off and the sounds of whirring wind fill the air.

geto’s got his hands buried in his pockets as his tall lean body stands still. he’s checking you out.

his head slightly tilts to the side with his helmet cracked open and you can feel his eyes trailing up your entire physique.

he’s studying you - trying to figure out just who this pretty girl that just dusted him in a race.

you’d be lying through your teeth if you didn’t idolize him just a little bit. he was well known not just in tokyo but worldwide. the fangirls loved him, and the racers despised him with envy.

beating the suguru geto was a rare fever dream of itself.

“or are you just upset you’re not in the spotlight for once?” brat.. though your comment made him scoff with a sly smile curling against his thin lips.

“mm. for a new racer you sure have a smart mouth,” and his eyes quickly dash toward your car.

hot pink, it even looked freshly new and painted. and just to put the icing on the cake, it also has a pretty character design painted near the sides with the addition of a cheetah print wheel.

he lost to . . that?

geto’s quietly admiring your ride though—it looked like it was straight out of a movie. once he looks down at you again, he speaks in a gruff intimidated tone, finishing his sentence. “it’s only your first win, don’t be cocky.”

“i’ll be cocky if i want,” you murmur, and there’s a loud competitive tension between you both.

people started to leave the car meeting spot until it was just the two of you. your car’s parked near one of the garages where geto’s car was coincidentally parked also. you’re still leaning against the pink hood of your car before walking up to him. you close the awkward distance between you both, being just a few inches apart.

you’re bold, and he liked your spunk although he’d never flat-out admit it.

just . . . who were you?

geto didn’t like losing—that’s already been established. but now, he’s starting to realize he probably has to deal with you in future races, and oh- he knew you were gonna be a problem.

and he was right, because perhaps he’d finally met his match.

“besides, even if i did cheat,” you retaliate, your tone sounding more and more coy and foxy. playfully, your arms wrap around his shoulders and you tap against his sheer black helmet that had ‘s. geto’ autographed in bold purple near the other shell. vexed, mousy eyes glare at you through the protective gear and you lean up all the way close. “what are you gonna do about it, suguru?”

famous last words,

because one moment you’re being nothing but a mere brat and the next, you found yourself bent over the hood of your pretty blush-colored honda.

well, fuck.

suguru geto didn’t take disrespect lightly . . although, he liked the brat in you. a nice change of pace, even though it pissed him off a bit - a lot.

“s- shit,” you gasp, feeling your thighs squeeze together. geto’s domineering aura sends you chills, the kind of chills where it runs through your entire soul.

he’s so close that you could almost taste his loud cologne on your tongue. it’s a manly scent, you’d probably guess one of the main ingredients was oak moss. as you’re pondering deep in thought, still trying to get over his loud smell—a hand gingerly starts to brush down your skimpy lace-up chaps.

his touch felt good. . and sure, maybe you’ve fantasized about this exact moment once or twice while watching his races broadcasted on live television. geto’s pressed up against you as you’re idly hunched over, biting your lip. with a huff, you’re so close to your tinted window that you were practically having a staring contest with your rosy windshield wipers. “aw. you planned to spank me over my car?”

“not exactly, pretty girl,” he tsks with a clicked tongue, and that’s when you feel it. something poking against your rear — oh, he was hard.

it was something hard and you don’t quite think it was his helmet..

that couldn’t have been anything else other than a raging boner, and it makes you smugly hum. geto groans once he feels your ass wriggling against his skin-tight leather jeans. “think you’re funny, yeah girl?”

“a bit,” you utter in a breathy tone, feeling his fingers zig-zag down the exposed straps of clothing that reveal a bit of skin. you didn’t mind his touch - in fact, you only wanted more.

the inside of the garage was widely spacious—big enough to fit your car and geto’s iconic skyline gtr. it’s a gorgeous midnight dark purple that glimmers in the dead of night, akin to a raven’s wings.

with the garage lot being empty, it was just the two of you, the witching hour steadily approaching. all that could be heard was the occasional squawks and chirps of squaking birds and loud cars honking near the far distance by the freeway. as he’s still got you pinned over, you bite your pointer finger with a cheeky hum. “hilarious even.”

but, you don’t find anything funny moments later when the street racer’s tongue is shoved right between your splayed, plush thighs.

not at all, in fact- the only ‘words’ that came from your mouth were babbling inaudible whimpers, and he made sure you’d eat your sentences… just like he’s eating out your first place cunt like the starved man he was.

with widened eyes and a stretched jaw hanging open, you stare back with a hand on your ass, giving your skin a soft squeeze. geto grunts, on his knees as you’re hauled right over your pretty decorated hood.

hell! you figured he’d ask to rematch but this..

it seemed like all he wanted to do was take out his loss on your pussy… with his second-place tongue.

and that’s just what he does too.

not that you were even complaining—suguru geto was a nasty man to no one’s surprise. he’s nasty on the road and he’s even nastier with his tongue recklessly driving up and down your slobbering twitching cunt.

you feel a crooked nose sloooowly drag its way like a trail against your entrance. geto starts near the bottom and then makes his way up, making sure to have his button nose dripping with your mess. letting off a sweet whimper, it doesn’t take long before he’s starting sucking against your swollen clit.

“hng,” a needy whine dashes from your throat, and you can already feel a shaking judder spasm between your legs. geto’s unapologetically sloppy with his mouth too. as he’s repeatedly flicking the pointed pink tip of his tongue in crazed different directions, a throaty hiccup leaves from your glued lips. “fuuck, do you usually mhm--do this to your opponents who hah, beat you?”

“only the ones with the smart fuckin’ mouths,” he replies with a quickness, taking a moment to spit right on your sticky cunt. it’s a loud ‘ptui’ and it’s a filthy slimy trail that dribbles past his lips, polishing near the creasing crevices of his mouth.

a rubber-gloved hand snakes toward the crack of your pried open thighs and he spanks your pussy, causing a cute shrieking squeal to leave out your strained cords. “also, a reminder again. you didn’t beat me. i let you win. big difference.”

“s- sure,” you sheepishly moan, feeling vapid air circle around you both.

the night was eerily and silently dead—you swallowed thickly, praying no one would see you bent over your flashy pink hood getting eaten out by one of the most famous street racers in the world. although, the thought of getting caught made you throb in a way you didn’t think it would.

he’s mean with his tongue.

geto was competitive in everything he did, including with how he ate it.

your strapped pants were pulled down along with your panties lazily sticking toward the side of your feeble quaking thighs.

within minutes his jaw would angrily ache, growing slack and locking from how it was reaching soreness - but he didn’t care.

if he didn’t win his race, the least he could do was win by eating you out…right?

geto’s designer mauve-colored helmet probably costed thousands and rests near the side of him. he took it off before he started to feast himself between your sprawled legs.

through hazed doe-like peripherals, you stare at it and admire the designs that paint across his visor.

everywhere, there’s writing and designs—and again, you spot his famous autograph that’s nearly written near the side. typical, of course, he’d autograph his helmet.

he’s suguru fuckin’ geto.

regardless though, you’re still nothin’ but a whining mess though, and as he continues to eat you out, you let off a sweet ‘ooh!’ as soon as he bites near your pearly clit.

it’s soft and tender, but it still makes you babble out a sobbing moan. his teeth gently nibbled against your pussy . . . leisurely slithering his tongue between your flooding flaps.

so good, each time you hear the wet smacks from his lips, you can hear geto huskily groaning out satisfying ‘mmmh’ ‘s.

it’s a feeling that makes your legs stagger within the firm hold of his hands. geto’s still wearing his gloves and each time the stretchy rubber rubs onto your skin, you moan. “fuck, fuckk,” you whine, and he’s groaning right against your sobbing cunt. his hair’s pinned back into a high messy ponytail - a few ravened strands running down the sides of his face. pretty long lashes of his were closed as he was slurping you clean.

so damn sweet . . . he wonders why he’s never seen you on the track until now. well- you were new. maybe he has seen you, but geto’s never been one to pay attention.

either way, you were a meal he didn’t wanna stop tasting, ever.

and despite the bitter taste of defeat continuously lingering on his flat tongue even still . . your cunt sprinkled a bit of flavor to it, an aftertaste of vying rivalry . .

“mmph,” he grunts, feeling you push him further into your cunt with one hand. with a twist, you turn your torso just a bit to look down at him, bringing his face further. geto’s slick wet tongue slides across your nub before he’s sloppily thrusting it in and out of your weeping flowery entrance.

you whimper once he reaches that spot, feeling a sudden heave of a breath snatch its way out from your puffed lungs. geto’s dark brows amusingly knit together and he’s already nose deep—the hooking bridge that smears against your pussy makes you nearly wail out a needy weep.

he’s smearing his face everywhere, and wet splotches of your juices started to coat his clear face.

but he doesn’t mind - geto’s always been one to get a ‘lil dirty during a match.

two slack lips munch against your clit wholly before his lengthy tongue reaches toward your winking hole. “pff,” he clicks his tongue, letting off another husky groan once he feels the tint in his pants arises.

fuck, you made him hard—even more, now that he was eating you out.

the louder you were, the more his dick twitched underneath the rough fabric of his jeans. it’s almost painful- the way his hardened bulge prods its way against the leathery fabric makes him suck his teeth. he needs you.

geto’s lips remain glued against your cunt before he uses a gloved thumb to peel your pudgy sweltering folds apart just a biiiit more.

his tongue creates a downward slope that trickles its way below your clitoral hood that’s frantically throbbing right in his mouth.

ba dum, ba dum, ba dum. . .

pulse pulse pulse after fucking pulse,

a smoky chuckle echoed from his lips as his shoulders slightly shake and fuck- it vibrates against your pussy. “god, she’s a ‘lil crybaby isn’t she,” he breathlessly mumbles as his thumb peels your soaked flaps all the way down. he’s intently staring inside, studying all the pretty nerves and your twitching nub before spitting right inside yet again.

airy cold breath fans over your nude slit and you whimper, feeling his tongue douse itself back inside. “were you drivin’ around this wet the entire time, princess?” and you moan, feeling the rubber of his palm smear a few circles around your clit. “drivin’ around, tryin’ to beat me with a pretty pussy this fuckin’ soaked?”

with a shivering whimper ghosting past your splintered lips, you snivel out a soft mewl.

“sugu—fuuuck, ‘m gonna cum,” and as your breath gets caught in your throat, you feel him grab a nice chunk of your ass.

at his very grip, he gives your rear a rude spank and the recoil makes him hum in amusement. so soft, the way it bounced just from his palm alone.

oh, and spanking you became his favorite thing to do, especially since you were so fucking noisy.

as a shrilling whine prepares to race out your strained esophagus, you nearly yank his head forward again, hearing him groan against your clit. “d- did you hear me? ‘m close, gonna cu—”

“yeah yeah girl, i heard you,” he swats your hand away, and the low grit that rumbles from underneath his tone makes you throb for the nth time.

geto brings a few digits up toward your cunt to rub against your runny folds, and he starts making out with your pussy - with tongue.

sloppy smacks slosh out from your crying folds and you gasp, feeling him impishly nip your clit with his teeth once more. “mmf,” and his eyes start to become low and hooded.

he’s pussy drunk, very much so.

geto eats you out until you’re abruptly coming undone on his tongue, letting off a sweet euphoric battle cry with your toes curling in your knee-high boots. fuck, and even as he’s savoring the syrupy taste that pours on his flat flushed tongue, he’s still eating you out.

with brief circular maneuvers of his tongue, he’s got you whimpering from the sensitivity. as a staticky twinge pulses through your pussy, your hand grabs at his hair hard, tugging near his roots, having to literally pry him apart.

your cunt was so sensitive, throbbing a plethora of pulses as your mouth fatally goes dry. “f- fuck,” you moan, and you can feel your legs stick together once they instinctively close shut.

“tsk. drama queen,” he soils his lips together that were now perfectly glossed from top to bottom with your juices.

oh, his chiseled chin was just shimmering with such sparkling sap that it even poured a stream down the lower part of his face. his tongue slides near the cracked corner of his right lip, and he’s just luxuriating at the treacly taste of you. if you tasted this good, maybe the second place wasn’t so bad after all. .

as he’s still lapping up his lips with a wolffish grin, geto notices you openly gawking at his bulge and he snickers, patting his fly with a gloved hand. “it’s rude to stare, sweetheart.”

“it’s rude to walk around with a bulge that big.”

“oh yeah? how ‘bout you fix that problem for me then, rookie?”

a brat, almost as much of a brat as you.

geto gets silenced once you slam your lips onto his, not even batting an eyelash that you’re tasting yourself on his tongue that’s swirling around yours.

it’s intense, you could feel your heartbeat start to match the exact pulsing pace from between your legs. his lips were icy, and you moaned—tasting a bit of mint that resides on his tongue.

his breath is freezing cold, it’s an almost sweet candied taste and you whine in his mouth once his hands start to roam up and down your body.

geto’s feeling you up- feeling up the pretty girl who just beat him in a race.

rough protected hands drag down your frame, taking in your curves before toying with the leather straps that droop against your pink lace-up chaps.

it’s as if even the kiss was far more competitive than the actual street race.

both desperately fought to win, swerving through each tongue like swerving lanes.

geto grunts, lightly pushing your ass back against the hood of your car. as tongues twist and tango in lewd unison, he seductively sucks on your pointed tip.

as geto’s eyes open halfway, you open yours, and he’s just staring at you with a look of feral - a carnal smug grin tweaking on each side of his lips.

“turn around again, pretty. hands on y’r hood like…this,” and once he spreads you apart, you moan once he rubs his bulge against the middle fabric of your pants. “good hah- messy girl.” his bulge was so damn hard, it felt like a brick.

the more he rubbed himself against you, the more your body ached and yearned for more.

oh..

his hands, geto kept his racing gloves on the entire time. as the stretchy rubber sensually crawls down your waist, you hear the jangling of his studded skull belt. with a few shuffles, he leans up close, pinning your hands behind your back like you were under arrest.

“just for the record again, you didn’t ‘beat’ me, you cheated,” and you scoff, feeling frigid air waft between your inner thighs. oh- here he goes again. talk about a sore fuckin’ loser.

“sur— mmph,” and he cuts you off, placing a gloved palm over your mouth.

“quiiiiet, you’ll get your turn to talk,” he cuts you off, and you let off a moan once you feel his bulbous tip smack against your sopping cunt.

it’s loud..

dozens of paps and squelches leave it right away and he plants a wet kiss near your exposed neck.

the rubs from his blushing reddened cockhead make loud noises that constantly replay through your empty mind.

“see? let her talk,” and you swallow thickly, feeling him use an extra hand to pry your legs apart further. clammy, big hands glue against the pink hood of your car before your tongue tastes the metallic fibers of his glove. “so eager. poor baby,” he coos against your ear, feeling you trying to swallow and gulp him down right away. your twitching pussy’s aching, and you can’t help the pathetic whimpers that hiccup from your lips. you even try to wriggle your ass but he rubs a hand underneath your clit. “aw, impatient are we? what’s the sayin’, princess? slow ‘n steady wins the race?”

‘okay…but i beat you,’ was what you were saying in your head… but you sort of forgot his hand was covering your mouth. duh girl.

“mmph—” you let off a muffled moan against the palm of his hand, trying to wriggle your ass against him harder.

geto lowly groans and then you groan, feeling what was a piercing that attaches toward his pre-creamed dewy frenulum. geto strokes himself a bit, fisting his cock. with hooded, jaded eyes, he watches his loose skin peel back before arising up again and he hisses. the frenulum perfectly hooks itself over his tip, and oh- how you wished you could have seen it.

you couldn’t see but, fuck did you feel it.

you’re so wet, your swollen pussy lips resemble a blossoming flower as he spreads you apart with two scissoring rubber fingers.

his dick piercing almost tickles once it starts to rub against you some more. he swipes it all against your clit, teasing it near your opening before pulling it right back out. “fuck,” you whine once he finally removes his palm from your mouth, glossy strands of your saliva coating the entirety of your hand. “h.. hurry up, suguru. ‘m gonna fall asleep at this rate.”

geto rolls his eyes, and that’s when with a semi-loud thud, your chest lands against your hood.

“oh please..” he murmurs, a brow twisting upward in annoyance. one of his hands still has its grip on your wrists and you bite your lip in anticipation.

geto’s tip leaked with creamy coating pre, and you felt remnants of it sprinkle against your entrance. with a raspy grunt, he drags his angered pierced crownhead down your drooling folds before roughly smacking it against your cunt.

more sloppy wet splats! of squelches spurt out from your folds as if it’s saying its own kind of lewd language and he grunts.

geto makes sure you’re arched over the hood of your car before whistling at your presented frame. “so damn…pretty,” and within seconds, he’s easing his way inside.

immediately, your eyes widen with your jaw collapsing down like earlier—fuck, he’s big.

from the countless times, you stared at his bulge, you figured as much. geto’s vast head had a rosy-pink tint of vermillion with how close it mirrored to being a pinkish red.

sucking in a greedy breath, he watches as he’s gradually disappearing inside of your cunt. his pierced dick made things even more sensitive, and you moan once you feel the piercing softly graze its way inside of your fluttering orifice.

pasty gummy walls welcome him, and now it’s his turn to bite his lip.

“hng, f- fuckin’ big,” you try to inhale a single breath, and he raises your leg just a bit. it now sits over your hood- and damn it, the angle he has was just brutal.

you just knew you were gonna feel him everywhere.

geto’s obelisk-like girth was wide ‘n fuckin’ tall, you felt him fully and the shaft ring that’s on top of his top continues to kiss against your sensitive throbbing nub.

prince albert to be specific!

it decorates his tip perfectly, making sure to tickle inside of you as he’s feeling you clamp down. “shiiiit,” you slur out your words in a mere whiny syllable, gasping at the curved column of his fat dick search through your walls like a maze. he’s expanding through you and you can’t help but part your lips, squealing before letting off a cute, ‘ooohh!’

your hand prints stick against the pink-stained hood of your car due to the insane amounts of perspiration and you whine once he gives you one biiiig thrust.

just one- and ah!

it rocks your world - literally.

you let off a cute squealing shriek, your legs shimmying a bit from his pressed-up weight.

“atta girl, bare ‘round me, good girl—fuck,” and the warmth you envelop his dick with makes him groan. your pussy was clingy, already so eager to devour him whole.

within a few punctuated thrusts to start, geto’s finally fucking you and each vigorous piston of his honed snatched hips makes your crossed eyes roll back in needy rapture.

his hands now stick toward your sides and you’re just whimpering from his size over and over again.

weighty inches pound into you at full speed, giving you whiplash every time as he impales your sweet greedy cunt. “fuck, mhm,” you bawl a fist against your car, gritting your teeth. riiiight there, the moment his tip smooches its way against that pretty bullseye spot, it’s over. there, he locates a spongy texture with the mushroomy pierced crown of his cock and it earns out a sobbing whimper from you. “ahng! right there, fuck. faster, there sugu.”

“right there, fuuuuck. faster there, sugu,” he mocks your whiny babbles, fully exaggerating.

to hell with him, you didn’t even sound like that but oh, did he enjoy getting on your nerves. just like you did- cute.

geto’s hefty sack smacks back against you from each nudging thrust he creates with his hips. every time, it makes him groan at how your body cutely slams back against him. with how sharp your ass pounds on his dick, those pretty wet sounds singing straight from your cunt- a sound way better than screeching tire wheels. “god, so fuckin’ warm. hah, squeezin’ all around me,” and as his irregular breathing patterns pick up, he leans in to kiss a slope down your neck. “bend over just a bit more- hah. there we go, m- my good girl.”

as your chest continued to lie flat down against your car’s hood now—he’s got you at such an angle to where you feel his cock expand everywhere.

it reaches every depth and rummages through every open orifice or just about near it. “oh my god!” you whimper out, hearing the sloppy sounds of your cunt whistle through the silent night. geto’s hitting you deep, slamming his keen hips into you with such rhythm, and each time he does, your brain short circuits.

tiny invisible stars circle and float over your head as you’re completely dumbfounded, thinking about nothing but how big his cock is and the way his pierced tip just plummets its way in and out of your drooling cunt.

speaking of drooling—you were starting to drool from the slit cracks of your mouth. you couldn’t help it- his dick was out of this world, and maybe you were exaggerating but fuck, you didn’t want him to stop. ever.

geto’s hastily rearranging your insides with just a few inches and it felt oh so good.

it was so good that you forgot the two of you raced together. you forgot about street racing as a whole, and instead, he had you dumb from his dick. “biiiiig fuckin’ stretch baby,” he’d grunt, starting to witness viscid stringy strands glue against each slapping thighs. geto’s dick slips out for a minute and he groans, gradually sliding himself back in.

it’s a sloppy ‘pop’ that rings between your cunt and it’s cute. you were wringing him dry, and with how wet you were, it wasn’t exactly helping things.

geto’s hot breath brushes against the open part of your neck before he gives your ass another playful swat. “fuck, that’s it. fuck back against me, don’t get lazy, uh huh. work those hips baby, f- fuck.”

as you weakly try to sway your ass into him to coordinate in sync with his crazed hips, he holds you in place—pumping inch after inch into you.

his cock sheaths inside between your syrupy-coated pussy almost effortlessly, and you let off a melodic moan the second his tip starts making out with your g-spot.

the pierced bulbous head dared to french kiss against there—making you writhe around him, on the verge of losing composure. you don’t think you’ve felt more sensitive than ever.

geto’s silvery dick piercing probes up and down your pearly clit every few seconds and he grunts at the gripping friction. “suguru…..fuuuck!” and as your words start to get bouncy, more sweet whimpers rose out of your sore throat. “more, more.”

“ungh,” he purses his lips together as he feels your cunt hungrily swallow his cock from top to bottom. with a rough pound, your ass smacks against his base—right near his tender plump testes and he groans.

such power-

even geto’s stunned for a moment, and his head throws itself back. the air surrounding you both starts to feel thick as smoke, and his eyes glance at your exposed backside that’s oh-so-pretty while arched.

all for him, and him only.

geto’s hips were simply maddened, and even he didn’t care about the race anymore.

well actually, maybe he did a little..

your pussy was brimmed with cock — sooo full, and you felt yourself starting to pant quicker and quicker. it’s as if you were having a literal street race with your breathing. geto’s getting lost inside of you, and it’s only a matter of time before his hips turn wildly sloppy.

gloved hands still reel you back into him as he’s breaking sweats within each long millisecond that passes. “pheww,” he’d wipe a sheet of sweat off his forehead, veins bulging in his beefy tatted arms. the drenching grip you had on his dick had him craving more…more of you.

the stoutness of his shaft jackhammers inside of your walls repeatedly until you’re on the verge of breaking yet again. geto grunts, the loud quick snap of his hips bringing him back to reality every time he’s about to go into another fantasm.

“fuuuck, ‘m gonna cum,” his words come out in a quiet rasp, and he claws a hand near the back crown of your head. “god,” his jaw tightens, and geto leans right up close to your neck, panting heavily against the outer shell of your ear. as long tangled tresses of hair freely cascade past his shoulders - all ruffled and messy from his helmet, he groans. “where do ya want it, sweetheart. tell m—”

“insideee,” you whine, barely giving him time to finish his husky words. your legs slightly raise against your headlight as it’s still stretched up and over.

geto’s still hitting you deep - so deeply good, swollen tip massaging every part of your clit and all. dozens of your toes curl up in erotic excitement as your tongue lolls out. you probably looked a sight. “inside, sugu, in- fuckin’- side.”

sassily smacking his lips together, he spanks you. “tch, dumb girl,” and the racer brings a hand to wrap around your neck. with a firm safe grip, his gloved thumb caresses a trail up your neck before he drills into you much quicker.

each snap of his hips draws out harmonic whines from you, gargled moans following out of your throat shortly afterward. the burn that’s twinging near the undersides of his thighs grows more and more intense before he geto lets out a guttural growl.

so……damn….. wet..

your flooding cunt’s slathering all over him, dripping near his base and he can’t help but snicker. “hah, fine. better hold still though.”

“fuck,” you whimper in response, feeling his sharp hips pound into you at such a pace. his rhythm was insane and there was no way in hell you could match his pace.

when it came to geto’s speed- yeah, you’d always lose. sure, you may have won today but when it came to his cock- you were losing with the hasty speed of his hips drilling into you at such miles per fuckin’ hour. .

as his turgid fat tip gives its final thrusting pumps inside of your cunt, geto’s body starts to violently shudder.

oh.. you were about to wring him dry. with a mewling slosh sound leaving the front your folds, you gush out yet again.

but at the same time…. so does he.

geto’s head remained tossed back with his round adam’s apple bobbing out of his throat. gnawing in the inside of his squishy cheek, he lets off a low grunt. his abs cockily flex through the white tee that tucks underneath his half-on leather jacket.

geto pulls out though, and it’s quick like the flash. he doesn’t finish inside to your devastated surprise, and a downturned pout forms on your lips. he huffs, watching such creamy-white amounts gush ‘n goo out in ropes and he sprays it on the outside of your pussy.

“damn,” he murmurs, feeling the awkward needy fidget of your hips. cute. darkened eyes remain on you the entire time and he grabs ahold of his veiny cock, aligning hit pierced tip against your pearled throbbing clit. “heh.. ain’t that a pretty sight,” and he smears it all against your pasty-creamed entrance.

now . . it’s painted with his color, white.

and geto came a lot because it’s still trickling out in ribbony globs, filthily oozing from the thick girthy sides and all like an erupted volcano. his teeth get caught by his quivering bottom lip as he watches such immoderate ropes of cum leave out of him. “such a- hah, messy girl,” and as he’s still lathering his sloppy seed that’s pouring out, sticking wads of splotches between the heat of your thighs, geto squeezes your ass. “awww,” he huffs breathily, noticing a few ivory stains splattered near the pink bumper of your car. “oops. might wanna clean that, sweetheart.”

hours passed . . many hours, and to say that you got fucked stupid was merely an understatement.

suguru geto had the stamina equivalent to a toyota supra MK4. his horsepower was his hips- with the added addition of his cock driving in and out of you.

but oh- you knew he wouldn’t be running out of gas soon.

or would he?

so. . many rounds, geto had you questioning your insanity the entire time, all because of his dick. if it was one thing he knew how to do, it was to fuck.

whether it involved his tongue or not, he knew how to make you feel good. it was one of the many things he excelled at, truly.

the only thing that got in the way was his cocky smug ego. every few seconds, he’d boast and remind you for the umpteenth time that your win was an unruly cheat, a hoax, or that he just couldn’t see the finish line because of your pink fucking smoke.

of course, geto didn’t say that part, that would have been him admitting that he lost the race and his pride couldn’t let him admit that he lost fair in square—

but your pussy could.

“hngh,” he falls back against your front cottony plus seat. geto grunts with a scowl entrapped in his thoughts. you pushed him - the audacity.

both of you were still sensitive but you had a tiny trick up your sleeve. “got some.. nerve,” and with low-dropped eyes, he watches you align yourself on his swollen pierced tip yet again.

he’s soft-flaccid, and he was pretty ran down. maybe now, geto was finally starting to run out of gas. with sweltering reddened lips smearing together, he watches you pick back up his expensive helmet, putting it over your head. “oh, gonna ride me while wearing my helmet, yeah? do your wors— oh.. fuck.”

his priggish words come to a not-so comedic halt the moment your cunt slams down on his cock. geto was still sensitive and he slouches back against your programming warming seat, dark eyes rolling back.

“goddamnnn,” and as your hips swerve around in circles identical to 360 car donuts, he sees you touching yourself while wearing his helmet. “fuckin’ brat—god.”

“aw,” you mock the exact faux caring tone he did to you earlier, making him touch you by bringing his shaky rubber hands toward your chest. geto’s fingers feel against the cropped top you wore, squeezing at your jiggling neglected breasts. “c’mon, sugu. i gotta guide your hands now too?”

“tch, shut up,” he groans, his heavy-sunken base sticking near your skin. dried splotches of cum glue against your sheeny ass as your hips continue to whirl ‘n rotate. you were unpredictable—you moved and jerked while he sat there with the most pussy drunken expression. geto lowly grunts, already feeling his balls starting to tighten up. he was trying to stop a sleazy grin from forming and oh.. was your cunt just making it impossible. “shit, ‘m not gonna last. s- still fuckin’ sensitive…. fuuuckk.”

the pink honda’s loud grumbling engine resounds through the echoey walls of the isolated garage with only the sounds of sheer skin slapping and a mixture of grunts following afterward. without thinking, you lift his helmet off of you, leaning in to kiss him and he returns the gesture almost right away.

geto’s lips were a tad bit delayed once they pressed onto yours. its a small yet cute detail- how he’s so pussy drink that he could barely crash his lips onto yours. as he’s moaning from your hands feeling on his burly tatted arms, his tongue sloppily delves into your mouth with no rhythm whatsoever.

maybe you were crazy, but you think you heard a whimper leave from his lips as he tried to nibble on your tongue. geto grunts, feeling that same pressure from earlier build up and fuck.. you were about to make a mess out of him . . . again!

his dick stills itself inside of you and his hands continue to roam down your body, further and further away from your jostling bouncy tits. “fuck ‘m cumminggg,” he’d moan between sultry kisses as stringy strands of saliva entangle with one another.

wetly, they form a web of sheeny lustrous cobwebs. geto’s foot rests against your bedazzled hard brake pedal before within seconds, he cums again.

this time, inside.

but it’s different this time- so so different.

it feels tenderly warm..

such hot gooey amounts dribble inside of you, spraying further inside your precious womb and you hum at the feeling.

his pierced cock fitting real nice and snug inside and you moan into his mouth, cocking your head in different directions as you trap his lips with another steamy kiss. “mmph.” a muffled whimper gets caught against your lips and you can already start to feel the whiteish searing ropes of fresh cum trail down the insides of your thighs. geto feels you slowing down on his lap—still buried balls deep, and he grunts in defeat..

soon, embarrassment overtakes him once he realizes how early he finished.

it’s a lot, again.

a thick load splatters heavily inside and past the inner lining of your cunt and he’s shivering underneath you. once you finally break away from his lips, your eyes meet his.

geto’s staring back at you, and you don’t see that cocky sly look in his eyes that everyone else sees.

right now, he looks…needy, and you think you broke him.

“what . . ?” he grouses, his hands still attached to your waist. his grip- it was gentle and tender a rubber thumb softly caressing down your curve. geto wasn’t ready for you to leave the garage, at least not yet.

“say it, pretty boy,” you whisper, pressing a kiss near his chin. your touch - it drove him mad.

never in a million years would he, suguru geto- have thought he’d get humbled by a rookie . .

humbled by you.

geto’s shooting straight daggers at you, but you can tell how flustered he is because he breaks eye contact a second later. you’re making him nervous, the same feeling he was making you at first when you had your first encounter with him.

as geto’s still warmly buried inside, he grunts once you take it upon yourself to softly wrap a hand around his throat.

oh- you were a mere tease, mimicking his exact movements from earlier. slightly wide-eyed and all, geto stares at you. and as he does—there’s that familiar glimpse of brattiness glimmering in his irises again.

you fucking turned him on..

“heh, f- fine then,” he stammers, heaving every few seconds to catch his irregular breaths. his body felt like it was on empty. no more gas left in him and that same cunning grin that plastered on his lips slowly started to fade.

geto’s not so cocky now, and in fact— he lets off a soft quiet whimper once you start to grind against his lap.

shakily, his hand squeezes your ass before finishing his sentence in a shaky defeated rasp.

“you . . fuckin’ win, sweetheart,” and you let off a sweet gasp once a loud smack! interrupts the moment, his hand swatting against your ass. “mhm,” geto grunts, “didn’t s- say stop. finish ridin’ me, sweetheart,” and his gloved finger swirls itself inside of your stuffed full cunt before pulling it right back out.

again, he’s filthy.

and even while being in such a state, geto brings his fingers up to his lips, slowly poppin’ them into his mouth before tasting the concoction mixture of both bittersweet messes. your syrupy cum and his.

quickly, he presses the tips of his rubber fingers toward his uvula, before staring at you with a greedy smug expression. he’s panting harshly, still trying to get over how you just outrode him literally, and he laps up his fingers right in front of you.

geto reclines your seat back a bit as you still straddled him, and he gives your ass its final spank before tiredly huffing,

“best- two out of three, what do ya say, r- rookie?heh..”

#★vegasbaby.#geto smut #geto x reader #geto x you #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #female reader #geto suguru #geto #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk #anime smut

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ramonathinks · 4 months ago

Text

HIGHEST BIDDER.

summary: tired of your virginity, you decide to auction it off — but you weren’t thinking it would be leader of the notorious group, onychinus who offers the most money of $10,000,000.

cw// 18+ virginity loss, soft sex, small plot but not really, pet names, slight? knife play, oral, she/her pronouns, choking, finger sucking, praise, dumbification, degradation, slight fingering, corruption kink( if you squint), female guided masturbation (? kinda? idk!), squirting, attempt at aftercare, the twins have a cameo. wc: 5.3k

tagging: @lvminy @kissxcore @sunasbon @preciousamethyst (hope it’s okay to tag you guys 🥹🫶🏾) @satorubi

You could only assume it was Luke or Kieran who had told Sylus where you were and perhaps what you were up to. Or maybe it was that damn crow, who insisted you stayed inside. But really, it didn’t matter who said anything because Sylus was grabbing you before a single hand flew up.

“10 million.” His voice was sharp — a hint of anger, annoyance and frustration on him, it oozed off his body and with the dazzling ruby eyes of him staring everyone down… they got the hint that he was throwing around. He was pissed. Too pissed to hear what anyone else had to say. Power rolled off of him in waves everyday but it was obvious that this day, and this girl and this place was provoking him.

The auctioneer's lips trembled in his presence. “T-ten million going at once.” He awkwardly scanned the room, not a cough of a mumble was heard. “Going twice.” Breads of sweat gathered around his forehead and he swallowed. “Sold!” He exclaimed, nodding his head rapidly in Slyus’ direction, guiding the both of you towards a secluded area.

He scoffed and tightened his grip on your body, it took him little to no effort to hand over his card and in a few seconds the transaction was completed; a portion for them and the bigger sum of the money going to you. His eyes narrowed as he glared at you briefly.

You couldn’t help but feel like the stupidest person ever and perhaps at this moment… you were. Being stuck inside and with nowhere to go most days because of the claims of dangers awaiting you, it was tiring. Plus, you had urges, like anyone else – womanly and carnal urges, desires and fantasies. You couldn’t help yourself when Luke mentioned it in passing and Kieran slapped him on the head telling him to shut up about it; it was simply interesting and something Linkon City would’ve never allowed.

You hated the silence. “Are…are you mad at me?” Walking out of the pale building and to the dark cold outside, moving close to his motorcycle. Looking around you think about how the tenebrific ambience that’s casted over this place, it really wasn’t the same as where you grew up, time moves differently here, almost.

“You went into the N109 Zone alone, potentially putting yourself in danger and you want to know if I’m mad at you?” He speaks with a hard tone, his touch scorching hot against your arm, his touch addicting. “Of all the times to be reckless…” He does a heavy sigh, followed by pinching the bridge of his nose.

He’s handing you a helmet and putting his own, sitting down and waiting for your arms to wrap around his waist before he drives off. The wind rushes through you swiftly and no matter how many times you’re on his motorcycle, you can’t help but to feel fear course through every fiber of your body.

Time always seemed to move faster when you were with him and it moved especially fast being on his motorcycle, he drove dangerously and it always led to you clinging more closer to him than you realized.

Upon making it back, you jumped off the motorcycle and handed him the helmet, shaking your hair to make sure it looked halfway decent.

Stepping back inside of the Headquarters of Onychinus, Luke popped his head around the corner and you mustered up the angriest glare that you could make him cower away. You could hear him and Kieran chattering about something. “No use in being mad at them, you brought this on to yourself.” Sylus told you, ushering you into his room.

You just sighed, sitting with your legs crossed on a singular chair that was near a small table in the room. The air felt more tense and uncomfortable than the other times you were here and you couldn’t help but to think of how for once you wished that Mephisto was here so that you wouldn’t be alone with him, not with this temper he clearly had. “Listen Sylus, it was a stupid thing and I know that—”

Lightening wasn’t as quick as him when he grabbed the sides of your face and kissed you. Nothing with him was ever warm and inviting, always hard and even a bit mean but luckily not forceful. His tongue licked at your lips and you complied with no hesitation. His tongue felt hot against your own, it sent flames up your body and you could feel everything in the pit of your stomach and to your throat. When he pulled away, he looked at you and from the way he smirked… you knew you looked out of it. Your eyes alone felt heavy and your knees were wobbling, too weak to stand. With your eyes on his, you watched the dazzling red become harder to look away from.

The voices came strong and with a clear message: “fuck him… fulfill your desires…” they spoke to you and you both loved and hated the throbbing sensation that followed. You wanted to remind yourself that he was an enemy… it was too hard to do when he looked like he did and with a voice as deep and rich, it was almost unbearable. Yes, he was an enemy but you couldn’t lie to yourself; you knew the real reason you went to the auction was to make him jealous. You don’t know what it is about him that makes you react the way it does but it burns inside of you and to your very core.

When the light from his eye dimmed and with rapid blinks you were back and felt more stable. “Your little mind always tells me more than your lips do. If you wanted me… I would’ve given you all of me with no hesitation.” It sounded like a promise and it swayed you, you leaned into his arms. “I can try to be gentle.” He whispered close to you, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

“Sylus,” His name trembles out of your lips. “I want you to touch me. I want you to make me…” You squeezed your thighs together. “I want you to make me feel good.” You felt too vulnerable in his presence but the truth slipped from your lips so fast as if you were forced to.

He looked as if something took over him, desire deep in his ruby eyes and you couldn’t look away from him, too turned on. “Take your clothes off.” His husky voice said above you. He didn’t move, just watched you shuffle your clothes off until you were in nothing but your panties; when you moved to take those off, it was then that he stopped you. “I’ll handle the rest.” He assured you before he laid you down — your head on his soft black pillows and your body rigid.

You don’t know where the knife came from until it’s rubbing up your calf and moving its way up to your underwear, the cool metal piercing your skin just barely. Your breathing labored and measured, trying not to show your fear but it was failing you. “Stay still, I would hate to nick your pretty skin.” The knife tickled your thighs when he finally snipped open the front that held your secret possession.

He groaned at the sight, audible and bit his lips to contain himself more. You wanted to cover yourself but when your legs moved even a tiny bit to hide, he spread them wider and the cool breezes from around the room slapped across your feverish cunt. There was a smile so deep on his lips as he spread your lips open for him to see. “You ever touched down here?” The way he said it, as if you were all innocent, he narrowed his eyes when you nodded yes. “Show me.”

“H-huh?” You stuttered out. “I can’t just…”

“Just show me what you normally do… when you’re all alone… in your room…under the covers.” He says it slowly, letting you absorb every word he says.

You’re bare and can feel just how comfortable his comforter set was. Your cunt wet and inviting but his eyes stay on yours, which makes it harder for you to breathe. “I just kinda just do…” Clumsily you spread your lips and simply slid your fingers around yourself, barely focusing on your clit but already overwhelmed. “But I can’t make myself cum, ‘m too sensitive.” His eyes transfixed on your fingers and pussy as you work yourself, your face contorting between pleasure and something else before you stop, heavily breathing.

“Oh? No wonder you’re so unsatisfied, you don’t know your own body. Good thing I’m here to help.” He’s closer, sitting at the end of the bed yet so close to you. He spreads your legs and you can see a glimpse of excitement dancing in his eyes. He inspects you – stroking up your legs and inching his way up and down your thighs, ignoring how with every touch your breath hitches and your toes curl. “I haven’t even touched you that much and you’re already a mess.” He spreads you; opens you up and closes your folds again completely immersed in the gushy noises that follows.

“This,” Sylus says, spreading your sticky lips apart and his breathing getting heavier. “This is your pretty little clit.” He taps the bud with the rough pads of his fingers. “She sits right here behind these lips.” His fingers are lighting a fire and trailing it around your body. “Open these up again… and this,” you gasp, his fingers sitting right in the spot you never touch. “This twitching little hole? That’s where I’m going to fill you up.” He chuckles humorously, circling the hole and gathering the leaking wetness there, your hips rising on their own accord before he pulls away.

“Now, your turn.”

“But I—” You’re close to tears, wetness gathered at your lash line daring to fall. “I can’t, I don’t think I can do it like you.” You hated how needy you sounded and how clingy you were being.

“I hardly did anything. Just simple touches, to show you where everything was. Pleasure points that you should follow. Did you want more? Did you like how I touched you, little one?” You couldn’t help but to gasp at the nickname, it filled your body with more wetness and he watched it leak down to his sheets.

Your insides continue to flutter at the name and your face feels hot. “This is what you paid for right? Might as well get your fill from it.” You try to sound bold and intimidating but his demeanor just softens at your attempt.

“As you wish.” He bends down and cups your cheek before placing a delicate kiss on your lips and you can’t help but to squeal a bit at the warmth that his lips bring you. His fingers brush your face before he moves his mouth down to your neck, licking a stripe before sucking on your skin. You can feel his lips curling into a smile at every noise you make. “I could do this all day… but where’s the fun in that? I’m sure you’ll make even better noises when I touch here.” Cupping the palm of his hand and gently slapping it against your core, your back arches and a whiny moan slips out.

“See? So much better.” You hate the smug look on his face, his red eyes radiant in the dim room staring you down makes you self conscious and ready to hide yourself from him. “I’m going to put my fingers right here,” His breath tickling your core. “Then my tongue, okay?”

You just nod…unable to speak, he watches your face and holds his fingers up to your lips.“Put 'em in your mouth for me, get' em all wet…” Your tongue slides between them, saliva spilling out of the corners of your mouth. “Good girl,” he patted your head, ruffling your hair and you couldn’t help the feeling that took over you. Your mind was everywhere yet nowhere, just him… that was all your mind could think of and be consumed with. The praise had your body on a different kind of high.

He uses those same cool wet fingers to open you wider. Slowly dipping inside of you, circling your center and easing inside, making you tighten up. “Don’t clench, just relax. It’ll only hurt more if you do that.” You take a few deep breaths, allowing your chest to fill up and expand before a release. He spreads your lips and he just looks. There’s a hum on his lips before he kisses your clit; full tongue running across the sensitive area. Your back lifts and arches off the bed but putting his hand on your lower stomach – he forces you to take it. There’s a look in his eyes that’s daring you to disobey him and it makes your tummy flutter.

He puts his full tongue against your clit and you try not to move but your body trembles. His fingers draw circles around your thighs, inching closer to your slit. It makes you realize that he was simply distracting you to alleviate the slight pain from when his fingers actually slipped inside. When they did, you gasped aloud. “Sly–us… please.” Your legs threatened to close but you forced yourself to keep them open and it took a lot out of you.

“Good girl.” He muttered, obviously appreciating your efforts. “So tight…” He tries to move his finger but you only flinch and groan, which makes him use two fingers from his opposite hand to rub lazy circles against your clit. That alongside your breathing helps your body relax and brings a lot of ease to you, opening yourself up. He slowly strokes your insides, taking his time to drag it forward and back, slipping it out before bringing it back inside. You can’t help but notice how eyes flicker from your lower half to your face occasionally but you don’t say anything. “Deep breath.” He tells you before he slips another finger in beside the other.

You whine when he moves them both inside of you, your body rocking against his fingers with a circular motion of your hips. He opens them up before closing them again, you grip the sheets. He felt so deep inside of you with just his fingers… the real thing would be different – longer and thicker – you didn’t know if you were ready. “You’re overthinking aren't you? Just focus on how you’re feeling right now.” His eyes are on yours, his fingers curling inside of you so deliciously that you forget to breathe. When he takes them out, you feel incredibly empty, your hole clenching for more. You're huffing and shaking when you look his way again, he’s opening and closing the two fingers that were inside of you; playing with the slick that was there before he sucks them off. He slips them back inside, sliding them on your inner walls and pressing upwards – the pads of his fingers rubbing circles inside of your soft insides; which makes you squeeze his fingers tight. Rubbing your clit again to soothe you, he slowly curves them as he slips them out – you gasp at the feeling.

He grips your hips and forces you to slide down, his breath knocking the wind out of you when you feel it right by your slit. Your fingers tightly gripping the duvet in anticipation, awaiting his tongue. You gasp when his tongue circles over the hole, nudging there just a bit before he licks up a wet trail; moving back to your clit. He plants a small kiss on the pink throbbing bud, then another before he takes it in his mouth and sucks. His tongue moving around in shapes you can’t make out until you feel the hard S he craves in with his mouth, his head rocking against your legs. When the Y comes, he’s peeling back the hood of your clit and flicking the initial inside rapidly. He slides his face down before he finishes, he pulls your sticky lips apart and dives inside. The tip of his tongue sliding back and forth achingly and painfully slow, his head shaking to the sides when he licks upwards, curving his tongue to hit a particular spongy spot that makes your thighs shake. Your fingers now dig through his silvery hair, pulling when he does a harsh lick against your core. “Taste so good…” He mumbles, rolling your clit between his tongue.

The obscene noises that you hear comes from his mouth feasting on you – slurping, sucking and even the noises of his own groans. Groans that were akin to a dying man giving his last prayer, his groans were drowning out the sounds of your own moans. “I can’t take it–” Slushing sloppy noises are what drowns out your moans and pleads. “Sylus please…” You can feel your own wetness under your bottom and embarrassment floods through you, and at the right time his nose bumps into your clit and you grind into it more with a huff; nothing but useless babbling coming out of your mouth. Another lick causes your toes to curl and your body to twist and coil when a leaking orgasm passes through you; which doesn’t stop him from sucking everything that you have to offer.

His hair now disheveled from you tugging and pulling on it — his face sopping wet from your juices and you can’t help but look away from him, he sits completely upwards. “Look at me.” Your eyes back on his, biting your lip before you looked down at the bulge in his pants – it looked so big and your mouth ran dry. It was an accident and unconscious thing but you licked your lips while staring and before you knew it, he was speaking again. “You look really interested in pleasing me.” His brow is arched and his voice low. “This is going to be fun.” He said more to himself than you, standing and unzipping his pants.

You were still completely naked yet he was clothed – almost fully – just his cock sitting out of his pants standing hard and proud against his stomach. This sight before you made you remember who was in power and just how much power you lacked. But wordlessly, you got on your knees. “You want it? Want my cock? ‘Can see how you’re panting for it.” He was truly condescending and knew how to put you in your place, but the way he made you cum made you see nothing but starlight and you wanted to please him.“Come and take what you want sweetie, take what you need.” You stared – 7 and a half inches of a tanned cock and two firm balls blocked your view of everything else – the tip leaking with white sticky precum dripping down. You trace your tongue up the sides, licking up anything you can to get the taste of him before you kiss the head; then you open your mouth around him and let your teeth run against the sides before you suck him in.

“Watch your teeth, kitten.” His nose scrunched up and he closed his eyes, his shoulders growing relaxed, you take what you can’t fit in your mouth in your hand and give it a few gentle strokes. “And be careful around the— thehead.” He says when your tongue runs a circle around the tip and one wet suck. His face relaxes for a second and you can’t help but to look him over. You knew he was good looking but right now with pleasure all over him, he looks a thousand times better.

The heaviness in your mouth felt so foreign but you welcomed it, the masculine salty taste that followed when you bobbled your head back and the way your cheeks puffed out because of him; it felt good. Your saliva dripped on the floor beneath you, your technique sloppy but when Sylus gripped the back of your head, you felt like you were on cloud nine. He gently guided you, pulling you forward and back – letting your mouth take him as deep as you can, before he pulled you back off. He inches himself inside, you suck and swallow around him, hearing him groan above you sent your body into a frenzy. You choke a bit but he keeps a steady pace to train your mouth again, muffled moans erupt from you when he moves your head again, hitting a deeper spot almost reaching the back of your throat.

“Such a good girl…” He cooed and a whine slipped through your lips, his praise making your thighs clench together. When he finally pulled you off, strings of spit broke off from your mouth and his dick. “I’m going to come inside of you.” He tells you, but you can barely register what he’s saying too far gone on your high of being used. You’re smiling a dopey grin and he squeezes the sides of your face to make you look at him, your glossy eyes in a permanent daze. “That was only the beginning, are you sure you can handle the rest?”

“Mhm. I’m sure.” Your voice is trembling and hoarse as you speak. You wanted to feel him cum inside of your throat but maybe you were being too greedy, your body swayed. He lifted you up from the floor, your knees burning. You lay there, your eyes droopy as you wait for him, all you hear is movement and a zipper before he returns to you.

“You belong to me, got it?” His hand wrapped around your throat. “Your body is mine to please, to fuck with… to do whatever I want with. And I don’t plan on letting you forget it.” His voice is hard and mean again, his jaw tense as he stares in your eyes.

“I knowww.” A whimper mixed with a whine comes from your throat. He doesn’t say anything, just sighs. Your body trembles and you sniffle, it makes him cradle your hand in his hands.

“You’re shaking, are you that scared?” He asks you gently, as if you’re a flower who needs tending to. Your eyes wide but say nothing. He laced your fingers together, his hands covering the both of yours in an iron grip. “It’s okay kitten, I won’t hurt you.”

You yelp upon feeling a cool sensation hit your lower half, him rubbing it more inside. He’s hovering over you, his beautiful face watching over yours as he slides his cock over your pussy, not daring to push it inside. He just moves his hips well enough that you’re gasping every time, his tip bumps your clit and you bite your lip, your nails ready to pierce his back. You lean into his touch and he kisses your jaw, trailing them down and gently nibbling at your collarbone, sucking on the skin. “Relax,” He says, playing with your wet folds, he starts to play with your clit again and you shiver. “I’ll be gentle.” Did Sylus truly know the meaning of the word? You’re wailing when he slides just the head in, barely. Easing a small bit of his tip in and fucking you just a tiny bit.

Then you feel him nudging more inside of you – his head thick and the squelching noises of him moving in make you tense up, but he whispers in your hair to calm you down and then you’re sucking him in. Your voice is gurgly when more of him slides in, a new found warmth inside of you. “Still so tight…” A strained groan fell from his lips, you reached from him with tears in your eyes. Sylus didn’t move, he rubbed your hair but stayed there then he did a tiny jerk of his hips, the stretch makes you sob, but you know that he’s only barely inside of you and that there was more to come. He tells you to take a deep breath and you listen, not wanting to be in any more pain; he slips more of it inside, a thumb on your clit. He presses his thumb and does small circles around it – strangled sounds come out of your lips – he still hasn't moved.

You look at him, you put his face in your hands and look in his eyes, telling him just how ready you are for this. He’s working his cock in slowly, inch by inch but he looks like he's scared to overwhelm you. When his pelvis meets yours you gasp…your hips buckle when he completely bottoms out, a sigh dying on your lips and tears free falling… it didn’t hurt as much as you expected it to but the pain still lingered. Your eyes rolling back and you squeal, your fingers holding tightly against him. “Oh…oh… Sylus.” Panting – your eyes probably filled with hearts — as you look at him, lovingly. The stringing stretch subsides when he does a small thrust, not too deep but enough to make you feel good. He pulls back and pushes himself back inside, watching your expression as you take him.

He’s being as gentle as he can, you notice. His hips thrusting soft, just nudging the soft spots inside of you. He pushes inside of you again, the first painless thrust and you both moan. Your belly tenses when he speeds up and the noises of wet skin slapping makes your body heat up. He’s rocking his hips against yours, circling his hips clockwise in a way that makes you shudder. You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of you, he fucks you a bit harder than before. The sound of his balls slapping against you is all you can hear – his strokes getting deeper as he slows down, you look down and see the strings of wetness coating his cock as he stuffs you full of it again. “God, feels so good inside of you.” His mouth slightly agape.

A small squirt of wetness spills out of you as he thrusts inside, some of it under your bodies and some of it splashing upwards as he digs deeper inside of you. You’re squirming and squirting, eyes crossing over when you hear him say: “Marking your territory, kitten?” It only makes you gush more, squeezing around him. You can feel his deep chuckles as it vibrates from his chest to yours – he’s always mocking you but right now you could care less —the way your body feels has you ready to bend to his whim. “This little kitten and these sharp claws…” he hisses when you press your nails deeper into his skin, you dig them down his back. The long drag of his cock felt amazing against your walls, a small sharp thrust inside has you both grunting.“Clenching around me so hard.” He kisses the top part of your head and you relish in how caring he’s been, you almost forgot how any of this started.

“What’s my name?” His voice thick with a bit of annoyance, it was clear that he didn’t forget how any of this started. You felt full, lifting your hips trying to meet his thrust, his cock hitting spongy parts inside of you that made you see nothing but bright colors.

“Sy-Sylus!” Your eyes rolling back in your skull and your mouth in a permanent ‘o’ shape as he’s inside of you, pure bliss in the form of the gentle thrusting of his body into yours.

“Who do you belong to?” His teeth clenched and he’s squeezing your waist hard, staring at you… his ruby red eyes glowing in the dim room. His pace picking up faster, squelching plopping noises from the two of you grew louder.

“Youuuu. Sylus.” You admit, puffy pussy sucking him inside. “I belong to you.” He touches your stomach, gazing at it as he fucks himself inside of you.

“Who does this pussy belong to?” His hand on your throat. Grinding his pelvis against yours, your clit pulsing against him. He stops and slides out before he jerks back in, gripping your thighs.

“Sylus!” You’re breathing hard and feel him twitching inside of you when you say his name again.

“And you tried to give it away.” He slapped your cunt and you jolted, a small squirt coming out of you.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice is muffled and tears fall; you feel so good and you can’t believe you made the stupid decision in the first place when you could’ve asked him to do this… to make you feel this good. Closing your eyes, you focus on the feeling. He’s stretching you out, squeezing your ass in both of his hands to further spread your body open for his pleasure.

“Eyes on me. Keep looking at me. Look at me while I touch you. Look at me when I make you cum.” Your eyes still closed and he sighs. “Look at me or I’ll stop.” He gives a sloppy wet thrust pumping his cock inside of you.

That simple statement made your eyes snap open, “Sylus please…please don’t stop!” There’s a tremor in your voice and the bed creaks at the same time; your wet walls swallowing him deeper inside. “Please fill me up. I need it.” You’re babbling and the curve of his cock hits a new spot inside of you, the tip grazing your cervix just slightly… just enough to make you feel good and to gasp around him.

It felt like he was going to devour you.

And you craved it.

So you let him.

It was one last thrust that was your undoing as you both cum, your back arched and your body feeling completely boneless, wetness slipping out of you as he pulled away. Your body shaking, he kisses you and pulls you close to his bare chest. As you’re drifting to sleep you hear him whisper in the sweetest voice, “I truly do adore you.”

But maybe you dreamt it.

When you wake, your body is covered in sweat and a heavy arm has you caged in. There’s a dull ache between your thighs and you feel wetness there too, you shiver. You slide from behind the arm and attempt to stand. “Fuck.” You mutter, looking for your clothes or for any clothes. You mentally slap yourself upon remembering that Sylus cut your panties as you rummage through his closet. You pull out a folded plain dress and slip it on, making your way out of his bedroom. You close the door gently so that he can stay asleep and you walk towards the main hall.

“Sounds like Boss really taught you a lesson.” You heard snickering and with a slight limp to your walk, you moved over to slap Luke’s arm.

“Looks like it too.” Kieran said, making you hit him too. “It’s not like we didn’t hear it, you two were so loud that Mephisto left and I swear before he left that he tried to cover his ears. I would’ve done it too, if I thought it would drown off the ‘Sylus don’t stop’ you kept moanin.” Mimicking your voice made you kick him in the shin, which he yelped at.

“Both of you just hush. I-I’m leaving.” You make your way for the door as they trail behind you.

“So this is you attempting to sneak off?” Luke snorts, you know he’s rolling his eyes behind the mask.

“Yeah right, boss really isn’t letting you leave now.” Kieran chuckles.

“They’re right, you know.” For a split second your body is lifted in the air and slammed against the front of a hard naked chest and for possibly the millionth time today, your body felt hot all over. “You really won’t be leaving my side now.”

But you already knew that.

9K notes · View notes

eupheme · 3 months ago

Text

— you’ve got me wanting you

[part iii of sugar, sugar] | [part ii] [masterlist]

wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader

rated e - 7.4k

tags: jealous/posessive!logan, baker!neighbor!reader, wingman!wade, flirting, feelings, (another short) miscommunication, immature humor, light angst, use of alcohol, threat of violence, use of alcohol and smoking, semi-public sex, bathroom sex, PiV, creampie

As the days pass, you think your time spent with Logan is pretty much perfect. Well... almost.

(Or - a dash of insecurity, some badgood advice from Wade, a near-fight at a bar, and the confession of overdue feelings.)

Those two nights spent with Logan turn into more.

The days are bleeding together, blurring. You fit well with him, you think. Together in Wade's apartment - spanning that space between their chatter and silence. Softening edges, though you think he's softened, too.

A stray cat coming around.

Bristling, with narrowed, untrusting eyes. Slowly learning that he can lean into your touch.

Your days since have been spent humming as you work. It had been an anchor once, this routine of yours. Getting up early used to give you something to get up for. Enjoying the whirlwind of prepping, measuring, making, decorating.

Now - you're grateful for how quickly the day passes because it means you can't overanalyze. Because it means by the time you catch your breath at the end of the day, you're already heading home to him.

Takeout was brought over to their apartment. A crappy movie with a hand curled around you, sending your heartbeat racing. The night ending at yours, hours between dusk and dawn spent learning every inch of each other.

You think it's pretty much perfect.

Well... almost.

“Do you think Logan likes me?”

It slips out of you. Something that’s been worrying at you, a splinter trapped just beneath your skin. You regret asking almost immediately - the sun glinting off the silver needle as you push it through the lycra suit.

“You mean the guy that’s been fucking your brains out for the past couple weeks?”

“Wade.”

“Oh, sorry.” He lines his knife up, poking a hole in the top of his styrofoam container - coaxing the waitress from lunch to give him a ‘take-home-margarita’. A cheerful “baby knife!” as he sheathes it again,” I mean the guy that’s been having totally-chaste-and-appropriate adult sleepovers with you?”

You understand what he’s getting at. Stalling, holding up his suit - another gash sewn shut with black thread, “You sure this is okay?”

“Mhmm,” He hums, “Gives me that bride-of-frankenstein vibe I’ve always wanted. Besides, anything is better than before.”

“You insisted, you helpless little man-baby.” Al adds, from her lounge seat, “Learn to dodge.”

Wade splutters - your lips twitching, as you work.

“See what I live with?” He gripes, “Maybe the two of you outta trade. It’d be cramped, but I bet the three of us could sardine it.”

“You wouldn’t last a week without Althea,” You snort. A beat, before you gather the courage to circle back to the topic at hand, “And besides, that’s just it. I’m not sure he wants to sleep with me."

The summer breeze feels better up here, on the roof. The whip of the wind cooling you, as you work your way across the once-again battered suit - propped up against the brick parapet.

“Okay, time out. Missing link here.” Wade gives you a sideways look, before his head pivots, "You cannot hit me with this fake virginal act when I literally heard you two fuck an hour after you met."

A beat, "And like, pretty much every day since then. I think I even heard a howl last night-"

Your eyes roll, "Wade. He’s not a werewolf, he did not howl-"

"Well, not anymore.” Wade smirks, “And funny that you assume I meant the Moan Wolf, but I could have meant you-"

You groan, head cradled in your hands, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, we'll keep it down. It's just-"

It’s just you’ve been here before - this liminal space between an excellent physical connection, and more. You've done the hookup thing - casual, friends-with-benefits, lonely strangers. Thought you had learned how to keep your emotions in check, especially with those past experiences.

But you’ve never met someone like Logan before.

He makes you feel bare. Soft-hearted and stripped down - wearing your feelings on your sleeve. Opening yourself up - only for your fingers to brush up against a brick wall, in return.

Wade must catch your tone because he sets down the styrofoam container - the pink umbrella tucked against his ear.

"Alright Sugarbuns, tell Papa Bear what's bothering you."

You grimace at the names, another flicker of regret lingering in the corners of your mind. But you find yourself talking. Letting those worries flow from you in a rush.

But Wade would know, wouldn't he? It's his friend, after all.

"He leaves after."

His eyebrows raise, and you continue, "I mean, he'll stay for a bit but he always winds up on the couch by morning. I’ll wake up in the middle of the night and he’s out there. I mean, I thought he'd want a bed, after where he's been staying, no offense-"

Thought he’d want to stay with you.

You nudged at it once. Getting nothing more than a grumbled excuse about not sleeping well, something about nightmares. Something you accepted, only to find him tucked in your bed a few days later - curled in your sheets when you had rushed back to the apartment after leaving your phone.

Hadn’t wanted to push, even if it confused you. Wouldn’t he want comfort, after a bad dream? You always did.

"Offense taken, Blind Al and I are excellent bedmates," Wade interrupts, "But please, continue."

His joke eases you a little. Risking a sideways glance, finding him already looking at you.

“I like him, Wade. I just really want this to work out.”

He hums, sympathetically. Knowing all too well the complexities of like and love. How you feel deeper than you’re letting on - he always was perceptive, after all.

A beat, before your head turns.

"Do you think it's me?"

He does laugh then, his shoulder leaning to bump yours, "Sugar, you have a two-hundred-year-old boyfriend who's gone through a massive amount of trauma and has an alcohol problem, and you want to know if it's you?"

"Fuck." The heels of your palms press into your eyes, "Okay, okay-"

"I literally traveled through the void with him, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles-style. The John Candy to my Steve Martin, and even after saving the world he still wanted to kill me."

"Wait," Your head lifts, "Why would you be Steve Martin in that scenario?"

“He’s the main character, as am I.” He barrels past your question, "The point is, if he didn't like you, you'd know. You just need to be-"

"Patient." You finish, "Yeah, I know."

And you do know. Even since that first meeting, you've known that he's been eaten up inside. Cracks of the man beneath leaking through his gruff exterior, as you had sat together on that couch.

But Wade called him your boyfriend, but he's not. Not really - no conversation to indicate that's how he saw himself.

It just left you confused. Vulnerable. Enough that you did dumb shit like this - going to Wade for romantic advice. The man who proposed with a ring pop and thought that a prostate orgasm was a sign of being soulmates.

"Maybe you’re giving him too much. Withhold a little," Al interrupts, making you jump, "That's what landed me my second husband. Begged for it like a dog, and was married the next month. God rest his soul."

Wade mouths an exaggerated “what the FUCK" at you, before shooting a dark look in her direction - only just then seeing her smirk.

"Oh, you’re joking? She came to us for help and you’re joking-” A sniff, as Wade turns back, "So anyways, don’t do that. Do something normal. Like internalize it, until it makes you snap."

His face screws up, as he adds, “Or, maybe try it? That bricked me up a bit-”

"Or,” Al adds, “Maybe you should just talk to him, Sugar."

Althea always knew how to cut to the chase and give the hard advice you needed to hear. You just wish you weren’t afraid of the answer.

‘You’re both right,” Your head dips against Wade's shoulder, “I owe you. Again.”

Silence lingering, though it’s not uncomfortable. Leaving you to think about what he said.

The suit passed over to him, when you tie the final knot, “Done.”

“Thanks,” A beat passes, as he gives you a sideways look, “Any chance you want to cash in on that favor tonight?”

You know better than to agree without more info - an eyebrow raising as you wait.

“Vanessa is coming over tonight.” Wade gives you a meaningful look, “It would be great to have the apartment to ourselves for a bit.”

The serious tone does not last, as he smirks, “I fully intend to break my months of celibacy the second the opportunity arises.”

“Months?” You hadn’t realized it had been that long. Thought he would have moved on, in some ways.

“Years, actually,” He adds, casually, “Turns out my obvious romantic hangups plus this-”

A gesture at his face,” Are a total boner-killer. As well as having an elderly roommate, apparently. Especially one who won’t leave.”

You shoot him a sharp look at the self-deprecation, Al’s voice cutting through.

“I told you, I’m hitting the casino for singles night.”

“Okay. I can drop Al off and pick her up,” Your mind is already racing ahead, “And Logan and I can go out to dinner or something.”

The prospect is exciting. Despite the time spent together, you haven’t really gone on too many dates yet. After your long hours and his rotating work schedule, your meetings have mostly been late-night. Quick meals whipped up in your kitchen. A rotating pile of delivery menus.

“That would be great.” He smiles, “Thanks, Sugar.”

“Of course.” You smile, before adding, “What are you going to make?”

A frown, when he hesitates.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to wing it.”

“I wasn’t winging it,” He protests, “I was going to hit up ol’ reliable.”

“For a second-first date? You can’t do takeout from Buns and Roses.”

A sigh, as you turn to face him, tugging out your phone, “You should make something nice. I have this recipe bookmarked for engagement roast chicken. I’ll help you-”

He tugs your phone out of your hand, scrolling through the eight-paragraph opener before the start of the recipe.

“Make this for her, show her you’re serious-,” You start.

Wade finishes, with a smile.

“-and there’ll be a cock ring on it before midnight.”

You keep catching yourself looking at him.

It’s almost embarrassing how bad you have it. Still not used to seeing Logan like this - away from your small apartment.

Seeing him at work was different - a very cognizant realization that you were on the clock. The counter between you like a barrier, even when you slip a coffee and pastry across it. A lightning-quick kiss pressed into his cheek. The relentless teasing from your coworkers, after.

But here - crammed in a booth, his hand slipping just under the hem of your dress, a palm curved against your thigh - it’s something else, entirely. Even in this dark corner, you have to resist letting your hands wander. Eyes flicking to the deep cut of his button-down flannel - dark hair peeking out from the curve of his white tank. The blue and grey pattern pretty against his skin.

A curl of smoke pours from his lips, a cigar fit between two fingers.

Logan had been curious to find you in the apartment when he got home. The aroma of the roast chicken wafting through the space, as you talked Wade through the last steps. The slow sweep of his eyes over the pretty sundress you wore, tugged from the back of your closet.

It hadn’t taken much convincing, when you asked him to get dinner out with you. Even with Althea in tow, safely dropped off for her night out.

“This is nice.” You smile, and his eyebrow lifts.

A glance around the room.

Dinner spent at a local pizza joint - stories shared, wound between updates about his new job at the local lumber company. About Laura, who you met two weeks ago. So much like Logan that it still catches you off-guard. Shared expressions, shared tempers.

You think that it must have been hard for both of them, this reunion. That comparison between the Logan in this world, those memories that stay with her. She views him the same - even you can see that. He’s told you it came as a shock, but it’s easy to see how he’s warmed, with time. Finding joy, within the shared grief.

The conversations spill over into a bar you know well. Unsure what to do with yourselves with the order of “staying away”, the sun still setting when you had stepped inside.

“Not sure nice is the word I’d use, sweetheart.”

“Anywhere is nice if I’m with you. I am sorry, though. I know it’s not-” Your hand waves, shyness creeping in as you lean into his shoulder, “Wasn’t sure where else to kill some time. Dopinder and Buck run a tight ship, it’s really not so bad.”

“Mm. Guess this is nice, then.” He corrects, a hint of a dimple as he smiles, “But you let me take you somewhere safer next time, yeah?”

“I’m safe with you.”

You miss the way he looks at you, as you take a sip of your drink. The brush of his fingers against your skin. His voice going low, goosebumps rising as he murmurs in your ear.

“How much longer do we have to stay out?”

A question that’s been on your mind as well.

“Well, Al’s thing is over at ten,” Your teeth worry at your lip, “But, I guess we could sneak back early. It’s just, Wade-”

“What about Wade?”

It’s unfair, how he crowds you in the booth. Torso twisting to face you. The warmth of his hand - how you’re aware of each and every movement he makes. It takes you a moment to answer.

“Wade is… Wade,” You manage, “But he doesn’t really ask for much. I owe him, you know?”

“You owe him?” He chuckles, “He’s lucky you stuck around after he tried to give you cocaine-”

“Hey,” You smile, “That was Al.”

That had been your second run-in with your neighbors. Only desperation had sent you over to the apartment, needing a cup of powdered sugar for a personal favor. Under-estimating how much you needed, in your rush to finish some cookies for a friend’s baby shower.

Meeting Al instead. The powdered substance swapped when her roommate had rearranged the apartment as a prank. Only Wade bursting from the bathroom, a towel slung low from his hips, had saved you from disaster. The nickname had formed when you hadn’t written them both off.

“And besides, Wade was the one who introduced me to you.”

Logan’s expression softens, “That is something, isn’t it?”

He holds your gaze for a long moment. Eyes drifting lazily down to your lips, with a low hum, then further. It sends a heat blooming in your cheeks, an unconscious press of your thighs together.

“I’m, um, gonna let Dopinder know we’re heading out.” You breathe, “He’ll worry if we irish goodbye.”

“You sure?” He husks, with another exhale of smoke - and you can feel the heat rising from your cheeks to your ears.

“Yes,” It comes out breathy.

“Um, yeah. You finish that, and I’ll be right back.”

Your elbows pressing into the sticky bartop as you wait - watching Dopinder work his way through pouring pints of beer for a crowd of bikers, all in dark leather.

A glance over your shoulder, finding the booth tucked in the corner. The dark head of hair, the expanse of his shoulders - a thick arm slung across the back - as Logan waits for you.

It makes you smile, and you almost miss the bump of a shoulder against yours.

“Oh!” You squeak, shifting to the side to make room, “I’m so sorry, I-”

The apology dies on your tongue, as you glance up at the man leaning against the wooden post at the end of the bar. Eyes drifting over the black field jacket, up to dark eyes.

“Been a while, darlin’.”

You inhale a breath, in surprise. Close to two years ago, if you remember right. Numerous meetings spread out over months, before he slipped out of your fire escape and into the early morning.

No note, no text. Walking out just as suddenly as he had appeared.

It had never been anything serious - he had made that clear - but you can’t pretend that it hadn’t hurt.

“It has,” You agree, a low twist in your belly, “How have you been? Didn’t think I’d see you outside Hell’s Kitchen.”

Unable to help that flicker of worry, even after everything. It’s always been ingrained in you - thinking of others more than yourself.

“Should ask you the same,” His eyebrow arches, “This isn’t your kind of place. Taking up mercenary work, beautiful?”

“I’m here with someone.” It comes out clipped, a glance over your shoulder - the nerves eased when you spot his form.

“Mountain man?”

A scoff - lip curling over sharp teeth, “Taking you to a place like this… You can do better than that. You can do-”

“You?” It’s your turn for your brow to raise, “We both know how that goes, Frankie. This-”

A pointed finger, gesturing around the room, “Was my idea. Things are different. I’m different.”

There’s the hint of a smirk - dark eyes that drag slowly down. Flicking back up to yours, as his voice pitches low, “I’m sure some things are the same.”

Your head shakes, “Not like that.”

There are lingering shades of purple that fade to yellow across his cheekbone. Never was good with this. All that time spent glancing out your window, waiting for him to show up, battered and bloody like he used to. All he did was keep you out, keep you at arm’s length.

Maybe that’s why you’re afraid of it happening again. A little shake of your head - a reminder that you need to be patient like Wade said. Logan isn’t him.

“I know what I want, and it’s-” The words die, as you look for him, again. Finding only an empty booth - your stomach tying up into knots.

A palm touches at your hip, a chest pressing snugly against your back. Startling you, as you breathe, “Logan.”

“This asshole bothering you, sweetheart?” It’s growled out, Logan’s eyes fixed on the other man.

“Nice guard dog.” There’s an amused appraisal - narrowed eyes, tongue trapped against teeth. “He do tricks as well?

The fingers at your hip curl, the smallest tug backward to bring you closer. The words ground out between bared teeth.

“You watch it.”

Christ. This was bad, you need to find your tongue - and quickly.

You twist, a hand resting on his chest. Only now does Logan’s eyes drop to yours, the tight pull to his features only just ebbing.

“This is Logan,” You smile, your palm pressing over his heart, “He’s, uh, my-”

And for a brief second, your words fail you. The tension is thick enough to cut, acrid in the air. Would labeling this right now send him running?

The man cuts through before you can finish.

“Frank Castle.” His eyes flick back to yours, as he adds, “Sure you can guess how we know each other.”

The muscles beneath your palm twitch. A light pressure against your hip, urging you away from the bar - the words low in your ear, “Alright. Let’s go.”

A nod, and you’re giving Frank a tight smile - letting Logan guide you towards the back. No more than a step taken before his voice cuts through.

“You still got my number?”

You shoot him an exasperated look, “Frank-”

“Gonna be back in town for a while, baby girl.” His arms cross, as he leans, “Call me when things don’t work out.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before a fist closes around the collar of his jacket. Logan stepping into his space, a forearm shoving Frank hard as he pins him against the post.

“I’ve had enough of your bullshit, bub.”

Fights are common in Sister Margaret's School for Wayward Children, but you can’t say you’ve ever experienced one. Fear licks inside you, meeting Dopinder’s equally worried gaze as he starts to rush over.

Frank’s smile is dark, “You don’t want to start this.”

It’s met with a growl. Silver points peeking between the dips of Logan’s knuckles, the fabric straining in his tight grip.

“Fucking try me, you piece of shit.”

There’s a metallic click - the press of something cold against Logan’s groin.

“Should shoot your dick off for that.”

“Okay!” You shove between them, then. A hand on Logan’s arm, tugging - the other at his neck, trying to guide him back to you.

“Hey. It’s okay,” It’s softer now, soothing, “Baby, let’s go.”

His hazel eyes are wild when they find yours. Face twisted in a snarl, deepened with the shadows cast in the dim room. Blinking, as he comes back to himself. A dark look as his arm eases - stepping away.

This time, it’s you that leads him towards the back exit. Something gritted out as you leave that you miss, but sends Logan bristling. An apologetic look thrown at Dopinder, before you’re stepping together through the swinging door, into the wood-paneled hallway.

Ducking down one of the hallways, next to matching doors leading to bathrooms, and a storage closet. An exit sign, gleaming red at the end.

The music and voices are muffled. His face silhouetted in the light of a vintage beer sign, his features outlined in gold as his back presses against the wall. A gritted, inhaled breath.

You haven’t seen him like this before. Seen him mad several times. Grouchy and annoyed with Wade. The sharp temper that hid his hurt when he thought you didn’t want him.

None of those moments match him now. You’re not sure what to make of it - the way your skin prickles. Something in your belly flutters, a warmth that drips from behind your ribs, settling low. You never wanted anyone to get hurt. But that look in his eyes, how quick we was to find you - it makes you inhale a breath.

“We-,” You start - your fingers still curled around his bicep, “We should talk about this. You okay, Logan?”

His eyes flick to yours, jaw working. The fury has bled from them, the sharp etches in his face easing, even as his expression stays guarded.

“Yeah. ‘m fine.” Logan rasps, “Didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

A beat, before it slips from him, “Was he one of the ones Wade scared away?”

“What?” It takes you a long moment to remember. Your brow pinching, as you shake your head,” Frank? No. It was-”

The pull of his brow is back, his frown deepening with your explanation.

“It was just casual.” You finish, lamely, “It wasn’t anything. Never was.”

“Didn’t sound that way.” It’s gritted out.

His head turns, eye contact dropping. A hand, raking through his hair - pushing the dark strands back, “Listen. If you want to go with him, it’s fine.”

You’re left stunned for a moment. His jaw working, hands jamming into his pockets. It’s defensive - it’s familiar.

“I don’t want to go with him-” You start, but it only makes him sigh.

“Then what were you gonna say, Sugar?” The look he finally gives you is searching, “I’m your, what-, your neighbor?”

“No!” You cry, “I was going to say you’re my boyfriend, but you’ve never-”

Logan’s pitches low, “I’ve never what?”

Your shoulders droop. Curling around yourself, as you lean into the wall next to him. He leans, matching your height - trying to catch your eyes.

“I don’t know, Logan.” It’s almost too quiet to hear. He might have, if he had been anyone else. “I told you I liked you the day after meeting you. But you…”

A little shake of your head, “You keep everything so close to your chest. You leave in the night. It’s okay, I just… sometimes I don’t know what to think.”

When his arms cross this time, there’s something in his eyes. A dark glimmer, the tug of his lips.

“You think that I don’t like you, sweetheart?”

A tilt of his head, a sharp edge slipping into his tone, “You think I wasn’t ready to tear that asshole limb from limb for talking to my girl that way?”

Something low in your belly twists, desire thrumming in an echo that radiates through you. A sharp inhale of breath at his words.

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” You manage, transfixed.

It’s easier, this time, for him to step into you. Hands ghosting along your neck. Tipping your face to his, so you can’t look away. Can’t miss what he tells you.

“If-, if I open up.” It comes out hushed, his words soft and low, “You won’t like what you see, Sugar.”

You reach for him - fingers curling around his wrists, “I like what I see just fine.”

He huffs. The barest hint of a smile, before his expression goes solemn.

“This,” The word is punctuated by the way his thumb sweeps against your cheek, “Never goes well for me. Sleeping on the couch puts me between you and anything coming through that door.”

Your pulse races with the remorse in his words. He’s touched on the barest of details of his past. Those small moments shared in the night you met, riddled confessions in the late nights that have followed.

“And the things I dream about-,” His eyes go hazy - lost in a memory, “They pull me back. I don’t want to hurt you because I can’t tell them from reality.”

The words slip from you automatically, without thought. Guilt floods through you, an ache from wondering - doubting.

“You won’t hurt me.”

“I will.” He breathes, “Sweetheart, I will. It’s not an if, it’s a when.”

Your head shakes - a stubborn set of your jaw, “You won’t. Please don’t shut me out, Logan. Please try…”

He huffs - eyes dropping to your mouth, as he leans. Hands slipping to cup your head, angle you to meet the press of his lips. A soft sigh that you swallow, something tender in the way he draws you to him. A hand curling around your back, splaying between your shoulder blades.

“Give me some time, okay?” Logan murmurs, when the kiss breaks, “Let me draw out the first good thing I’ve had in a long time. Just for a little longer.”

“Don’t have to draw it out.” Your body still curves to his, anchoring yourself to him. A hand touching his jaw so this time, his eyes have to stay on you.

“You deserve good things, Logan.” Your mouth brushes his, “Let me give them to you.”

The sound he makes is almost wounded, as if he wants to protest.

As if he wants to believe you.

Breath ragged, as his hands trace down to grip at your hips. Leaning into you, your touch. What you offer him. A thigh fitting between yours, nudging against your core - and you think surely he must see how your eyes darken.

The rapid flutter of your heart, how it races for him and only him.

“Yeah?” He husks, as if reading your mind, “You ready to get out of here, Sugar?”

“Bathroom.” You breathe.

“Can’t wait that long.”

He’s on you the second the door swings shut. Fingers twisting at the lock, as his head dips - mouth finding yours again.

There’s a desperation to his kiss this time. One that you match with the way your palms trace up his chest. Fingertips at his neck, tugging him to meet you.

A thrill shoots up your spine. You’ve never done anything quite like this before. The space behind your ribs is soft and tender from his confession - already breathless before he deepens the kiss.

Backing you up against the old, chipped vanity that lines the wall. The stalls hanging open - empty as his hands trail down your spine. Fitting beneath the curve of your ass, tugging you up to fit on the counter.

Finding your jaw again - guiding your lips to his, meeting the sweep of your tongue as he fits between your thighs.

“Been wanting to get my hands on you all night.” He breathes, against your lips, “So fucking pretty, you know that?”

It sends a pulse through you, down to where you’re already responding to his touch. Your knees close around his hips, urging him closer.

“Logan, please,” You hum, fingers tugging at his belt buckle. A palm pressing against the front of his jeans, where his cock strains against the denim.

His moan is ragged, bucking into your touch. Fingers tracing up your waist. Letting your tits fill his palm, as you work him free.

“This okay?” Logan rasps, eyes half-lidded, “Pretty fuckin’ filthy, sweetheart.”

It’s hard to hold back a moan of assent, when his lips presses against your neck. Open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, the scrape of teeth pressing into your jugular.

“Good,” He growls against your skin, “Would’ve bent you over that fucking bar if you’d let me.”

It’s possessive. It makes you shiver - a sweep of his tongue, the suck of lips as he marks you. The sharp sting of his bite fading into sweet bliss.

“Need you.” Your fingers wrap around his cock, stroking. The lightest of tugs to bring him closer, your thighs inching further apart.

He groans, “You have me.”

The pretty dress you wear is pushed up to your waist. His palm cupping you, feeling your warmth before he’s tugging the fabric of your panties to the side.

Need rushes through you. A heave of your chest against his as your mouth meets his, greedy. A tilt of your hips, a leg lifting to hitch around his waist. Your hand curling around the edge of the counter, the other guiding the tip of his cock against your slick folds.

“Hold on, honey.” Logan’s fingers slip against your pussy, nudging inside, “Gonna be sore.”

“I can take it,” You insist, pleading, “I can take you, wanna feel it.”

His eyes darken. A little inhale of breath, watching as your lips part as two fingers press deep. Your teeth already sink into your bottom lip, muffling a whine.

Slipping them free, after crooking inside you. Wrapping his hand around his cock, a rough stroke to smear your slick around him. Lining the tip up with your opening, as his hands fit against your waist. His hips pressed snugly against the chipped counter, as he begins to tug you to meet him.

You can feel every inch, as he moves you. He splits you open, your shoulders arching against the dirty mirror as your nails bite into the laminate. A hand pressed against his chest, as you urge him to go slow.

A held breath coming in a rush, as he slips deeper inside you with a grunt. Filling that ache you’ve been carrying - your eyes dropping down to watch the slick shine of his cock. Sinking into you with the slow saw of his hips, a clink of his belt with movement.

“Just for me, yeah?” He rasps, a hand drifting down. Fingers splitting where he fills you, drawing slick tips up to circle your clit.

“Just you.” You nod, breathless. Rocking into his touch, taking more as you adjust to the weight of him inside you.

His teeth flash white, in the dim room.

“That’s my girl.”

The moan you’ve been holding back slips from you, as you clench down hard around him.

He hums, “You like that?”

“Yes.” You whine. Reaching for him, as he tugs you closer. The slow plunge of his hips turning into a shallow grind.

Fingers circling and pressing, in rhythm with the heady drag of his cock against your walls. Your fingers grasping onto his arms, his shoulders - the kiss is messy when he meets the tilt of your head.

Leaning into you as his tongue licks into the cup of your mouth, your tits pressed up against his chest. A broad hand slipping from your waist, curving against the swell of your ass and squeezing.

“That’s it,” He rumbles against your mouth - eyes half-lidded. A groan when you nip his lower lip - grinning at the way you gasp, when his hips surge forward, “Atta girl, taking me so well.”

Each swipe against your clit feels like a countdown - hips angling until he finds that spot inside you that makes your teeth click together. That slickens him up even further, until he’s pounding into your wet, tight heat.

Your fingers pinch down. Breath going short, until you’re panting. Unable to do more than buck into his touch, as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm you.

“Couldn’t even wait to get home,” Logan growls, “Needed this cock so badly, didn’t you?”

“Needed you,” You whine, hips rocking to meet his. Eyes fluttering shut, as the winding pressure builds, “Fuck, needed you. Gonna make me-”

The words break on a bitten-back whimper. Your muscles go stiff, bracing yourself in his arms.

“Want you to look at me, sweetheart.” He coos, with that steady roll of his hips. Nudging deep inside you each time, as his fingers circle against your clit, “Eyes on me when you come, alright?”

Your answer is a breathless nod, as you listen.

You don’t think you could look away if you tried. Not with him right in front of you. So close you can see the pull of his brow in concentration, the pretty shade of his eyes.

Fixed on you, as his lips part. The soft pant and grunt as desire throbs in your veins, your fingers curling into a fist in his flannel.

“Come for me, baby.” He urges, “Wanna feel you, let me fucking feel you come.”

It’s there, swirling inside you. Liquid heat between your thighs, yanking you to an invisible edge. Leaving you to dangle, breath held -

“Oh my god, Logan-“

You’re falling - clenching down hard around him. His name is a chanted prayer as he fucks you through it - a ragged, pleased sound rumbling in this throat as you pulse around his cock. The slap of his hips growing louder, more wet as your release coats his cock. His base and balls sticky, when they press flush to your cunt.

“That’s it,” He growls. Fingers leaving your clit, so he can grip your waist. Drive into you harder, chasing his own impending release.

“Come on, that’s my girl.”

It’s pulled from you, sweet and smooth.

“Yours.”

Logan’s moan is ragged, coming from low in his chest. His pace stutters - the steady thrust turning sloppy. A messy rut of his hips, grinding himself as deep as he can before he finds himself again.

You forget the dingy bar. The flickering overhead lights. Filth and phone numbers scrawled on the walls. Everything narrows down to him.

How he holds you. Looks at you - so much said in the way they soften. You don’t know how you ever could have doubted.

Blinded with uncertainty. Fears from before, that will no longer have a hold on you.

“Logan,” You sigh, your heel digging into the curve of his ass. Eyes still on his, as your plea slips from you, “Fuck. Don’t pull out.”

You want to feel him. The throb of his cock when he comes deep inside you. How he lingers, slick and dripping from you - now, and later, and tomorrow.

A gritted-out groan, as the sharp tempo increases. Fingers pinching hard enough to bruise, and you’ll wear him there, too - fading marks against your hips.

“Yeah?” Logan husks - that look back in his eyes. Pupils blown wide, as his lips part with a groan, “Gonna be my good girl, gonna fucking take it?”

“Mhm,” It pitches high, as you nod.

“Fuck.”

It comes out choked, as he loses himself in you. One, two, three thrusts, and Logan is growling - hands slipping down to tug you flush against him, as he spills inside you with a muffled shout.

Hips grinding himself deep into you, his words a rough rasp in your ear, “Take it. Just like that.”

He pulses inside you, filling you with each twitch of his cock. Marking you fully, as he tests his teeth against your shoulder. A moan, as your thighs hitch around his hips - nudging him deep, where you’re wet and warm and wrapped around him.

Leaving him to grind every last drop into you, slumping back when his grip finally loosens. Your limbs feel like liquid lead, head tipped back against the glass. A groan muffled against your neck, as your fingers slip beneath the tugged-open flannel.

Nails scratching along his back, the tight muscles beneath easing.

“Boyfriend, huh?” Logan hums when he finally leans back - and you already miss his hands on you, as they shift to brace against the counter.

It feels cruel that he teases you like this. When you swear you can still feel the throb of his cock inside you. When he’s still sheathed to the hilt.

You groan, “Don’t make fun of me, Logan.”

“‘m not sweetheart,” He huffs, eyes going soft.

“I’ll be anything you want me to be.”

There’s something off about your apartment - he can sense it the moment they make it to the landing.

This is exactly what he had been trying to tell you. The when, not if, something will go wrong. His senses flickering into overdrive, nostrils flaring.

Catching the light that creeps from under the door, when he knows you clicked it off. His hand automatically leaves yours, reaching out to tuck you safely behind him.

“Logan?” There’s confusion in your voice, a hand at his shoulder.

He shushes you, his words a low growl.

“Someone’s in your apartment. Stay here, sweetheart.”

There’s the soft snick of his claws, your fingers untwisting from his shirt. A breath, and then his hand is closing around the knob - a sharp jerk of his fist as his shoulder slams into the wood.

Teeth bared, as he bursts into your apartment with a snarl.

All that fury bleeds to relief, and then disappointment.

“How’d you get in here?” Logan grits, his claws sheathing.

Your voice joins his, from where you had peeked around the doorframe, “You okay, Wade?”

Hazy, morose eyes peer back at him - a hand lifting to wiggle “baby knife” at him. A newly-opened bottle of your cooking sherry in the other - a plate balanced on his chest, filled with a half-eaten chicken breast and vegetables. Legs stretched out on your sofa, Dogpool curled between his ankles.

“She didn’t show,” Wade mutters, with a miserable smile, “Didn’t want to be alone.”

Logan can’t help the soft flicker in his chest when you go to him. Sinking to your knees by the couch - moving the plate to the coffee table, lifting Dogpool into your arms. She licks your chin as Wade lets loose a long, drawn-out sigh - flipping to face the back of the couch.

"What was the point of the first two movies?" The words are muffled into the fabric, "Why would Disney do something like this? We were picking out baby names for fuck’s sake-"

“I’m so sorry,” You soothe - a hand on his back, “What can I do to help? Can I get you anything?”

Wade’s head turns to the side, with a long sigh.

“Thor’s phone number.”

“How about I take this,” You tug at the bottle, until it loosens, “And I text Peter? We can have a movie night, okay?”

He turns further, until he’s facing you again, “Even that one you hate?”

"Don’t hate it." You sigh, “It’s just so sad. I don’t know why it’s your favorite.”

“It’s not my fault they made that tree star look so goddamn delicious.”

You’re beckoning Logan over, a gesture to take his place. You hand on his arm, beseeching - but you don’t have to beg this time. The snarling dog inside him calmed - the fury from the bar and from the hallway ebbing at your touch. He can still feel your lips against his, when his eyes close.

The uncomfortable itch of opening up oneself still lingers, but it’s soothed by the way you smile at him in thanks. By the words that he still clings to.

Logan has to fold himself into the space, knees folding. Mary Puppins tucked in the crook of his elbow - his other hand patting against a curved-in shoulder.

Sincerity, as he offers, "Tough luck, bub.”

“It’s her loss.” You call, thumbs tapping away a message.

“Her loss.” Logan echos, “You’re… you’re a good man, Wade. It’ll work out.”

It comes out clumsy. It always does - he never had a silver tongue like the Professor did. His edges as sharp as his claws, never one to waste words if his fist could do the job.

Wade flips back over. The hint of a smile, “That’s the second nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Before his eyes are flicking over to where you pace, voice lowering.

“And I gotta ask, did you maul Sugar? What is with that mark on her neck?”

Logan huffs, lips twitching.

“We’re all set,” You smile, “Your Emotional Support Peter is on his way. He’s bringing Al and some ice cream.”

A glance his way, the question written so plainly in your eyes - the lift of your brow. “That okay?”

It’s not the way he imagined this night going.

Had thought he’d take you to bed when he got back. Take things slower, this time.

Using his touch and the greedy press of his mouth to make sure you understand that he heard every word you told him. That he meant each one he said back - make sure you never made the mistake of thinking he didn’t care for you again.

But when he looks at you - how you’re ready to sweep into the kitchen to make some popcorn, he thinks-

That he might just prefer this. Even as messy as it is.

He smiles back.

The couch is crammed with far too many people. Five squeezing into a space meant for three at best. You’ve been half perched on his lap all night, his arm slung over your shoulder - tempted to pull you the rest of the way.

A couple months ago, his skin would have crawled to be this close to others. Would have peeled himself away with a scathing word and a sharper bite.

But something softened him, during his time in this world. Days, to weeks, to months.

Couldn’t go back, he knows that now. All the wishing and TVA TemPads couldn’t undo what was done - he’s known that for a while. It would take a long time, but he could try to come to terms with what happened. Try to do better, moving forward.

Starting with himself. A scrap of paper - snatched from a bottom of a flier with a brightly-printed 12-step program, shoved deep into his leather jacket pocket. Relearning how to be patient with others, and even more so with himself. Trying to listen what you and Wade told him.

He’s done walking away from things. You make him believe that whenever, if ever, he manages to open that tightly-sealed lid… you’ll stay.

The thought is one that he'll cling to.

“Alright. Enough bullshit.”

It’s announced, as the credits roll - breaking him out of his thoughts. A creak of the couch as Wade shifts - crammed between you and Al, his head twisting on her shoulder to peer over his way.

“‘m being serious now.” He insists, though the words slur together - the bottle stolen back during the movie and drained, “I’m so happy my two besties are falling in love, even if I am a jealous little bitch.”

A gasp, as he remembers - a reaching over to pat Peter’s shoulder, “Not that I’m forgetting about you, sugar bear. You too, Blind Al. I’d be just as happy if you two were dating. It'd be like a less fucked-up Harold and Maude."

A derisive snort from Al.

Peter smiles, “Just happy to be here, pal.”

“Anyways, life sucks balls. Big, fat, sloppy, wet, balls, but goddamn if seeing you two happy doesn’t fill me with hope.”

Logan can hear the hitch in your breath. The pressure of your fingers, entwined with his. Embarrassment flickering across your face, when you are unable to help glancing his way.

Exasperation and something else mixing in when you meet his gaze. Something soft and tender and directed so solely at him, that for a moment - he forgets to breathe.

Falling in love, huh?

Yeah. He might just be.

a/n: i adore frank castle, haha. i thought he would be a fun person to pull in for a jealous!logan scenario - and thank so from the bottom of my heart for all the love on sugar, sugar - I honestly had no idea so many of you would like it, and I can’t tell you how much it means to read your sweet asks and comments 💖 this is all I have planned for them right now, thank you for letting me share this series with you!!! (though I am definitely not done writing for logan!)

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #wolverine smut #logan howlett #james logan howlett x reader #xmen x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x f!reader #deadpool & wolverine #wolverine imagine

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dearieshima · 1 month ago

Text

NEED

✦ SUMMARY

╰┈➤ choso, your big-dick, virgin boyfriend, has finally had a taste of a orgasm by his real human girlfriend. Now, he needs more.

He grunted, his head lowered. "Yeah, yeah, I'm better than them. I'm better than all of them. I-"

✦ C.W

╰┈➤part 2 of WANT but you don't really need it to read this, switch!choso that becomes dom!choso, unprotected sex, loss of virginity (choso), nipping, jealousy, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, overstimulation, 3k+ words, missionary, riding

Choso's tongue delved between your folds, lapping hungrily at your dripping essence. He groaned against your heated flesh, the vibrations sending electric jolts through your core. His mouth sealed over your aching sex as he sucked and licked with wild abandon.

His fingers dug into the supple skin of your thighs, pushing your legs further apart to grant him deeper access. He plunged his tongue inside your tight channel, fucking you with the slick muscle as he savored every drop of your nectar. The obscene sounds of his feasting filled the room, stoking the flames of your lust ever higher.

Choso was drunk on your pussy, addicted to the taste and scent of your arousal. He needed more, craved to feel you come undone beneath his skilled ministrations once again. Sealing his lips around your throbbing clit, he sucked hard on the sensitive nub, flicking the tip of his tongue over it rapidly.

"Cho!" You gasped, your body tensing as the waves of pleasure threatened to overwhelm you once again. You clutched at Choso's hair, your fingers trembling with the effort to lift his head away from your sensitive flesh.

Choso's pupils were wide and glazed over with lust as he stared at it, his breathing heavy and labored. He whimpered needily when you pulled him away, not understanding why you were stopping him.

"Cho..."

"Yes?" Choso replied. His tongue came back, licking at the wetness on his lips before he swallowed. Choso's hands rubbed up and down your thighs, waiting for a verdict.

"I can... Go longer." He promised, his tongue licking at his lips again. He sounded winded, which he was. "You didn't get to cum..."

Your thighs quivered as you gazed down at Choso through half-lidded eyes. "No... It's okay," you breathed. "I think I'm ready."

Choso blinked.

"Are you sure? I could..."

He looked at your slick folds, then back up at you. But you interrupted him with a sharp look.

Choso swallowed. "Right."

You let go of his hair as he shuffled forward on the couch until he was positioned between your parted thighs, his rigid cock nestling against your entrance. The head, already weeping beads of pre-cum, mingled with your slick. Choso's large hands settled on your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he held you steady.

"Do you need help?"

"I-"

Choso's voice died for a second. He cleared his mouth and tried again.

"I've got this."

Choso's gaze flickered between your face and the glistening prize nestled between your thighs. A faint blush colored his cheeks as he drank in the sight.

"This... Will hurt, right? For you?" He asked.

You shook your head. "Only for a second... I came so many times on your tongue already, so it'll slide right in."

Choso nodded and swallowed hard. He looked back down again, almost like he was making sure it was still there. His eyes lingered on the slick folds of your sex, reaching out with a trembling hand for his thumb to pull apart your lips.

"Okay. Okay." He said, more to himself than you.

His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer to him. He was on his knees, with your back and head on the couch. Your legs were on his shoulders.

He nodded, swallowing again. "So... Right now?"

"At your pace."

Choso's face held some sort of determination and nervousness. He nodded again, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

"Now. Now's good," he said, almost in a whisper.

Choso's hands trembled slightly as he gripped your hips, his eyes wide and uncertain. He positioned himself at your entrance, the heat and slickness foreign to his touch.

"Here I go..."

With a deep breath, he began to push forward slowly, carefully, but his movements were too tentative and he slipped out, unable to breach you.

"Cho, you need to be a bit more assertive," you coached breathlessly. "Otherwise, it won't-" your words caught in your throat as Choso, spurred by your encouragement, thrust forward, eager to listen. His length slid into your depths in one smooth motion, stretching your walls around his girth.

Immediately, Choso froze. His eyes widen in panic as he registered your sharp intake, his mind starting to scream at him for messing up.

"Wh-... Oh. You... You're ok?" He asked, his hands shaking on your waist.

"M-mm," you whimpered, feeling Choso's impressive size stretching you open. "You're really big, Cho."

He could feel his pride swell a bit. It probably wasn't news to him, but hearing it from you made his chest rumble. He wanted to move, but he was fighting himself on waiting.

"Uh- Thanks," he breathed. "You're... Uh, hot. And really tight..."

He took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes before he opened them again and looked down at you, his eyes holding a mixture of caution and hunger.

"Can I move?"

You nodded eagerly, your slick walls clenching around his thick shaft in anticipation.

Choso's eyes widened as he felt your walls clench around him. He had no idea the female body was capable of such things.

A strangled groan escaped his lips and his head dropped between his shoulders. The grip on your hips tightened as he held you in place, a way to keep himself grounded.

"Ah! Stop, stop, stop...! Don't do that," he whined. "Fuck, I-Im gonna..."

You pouted up at him, a coy glint in your eye. "It's kind of involuntary, Cho. It just happens when you make me feel really good."

"I know, I know, but-" Choso tried to reply, struggling. He took a moment to collect himself and with a deep breath, he looked up at you. "Just give me...-- give me a second," he panted.

Closing his eyes, Choso tried to calm his racing heart. But all he could think about was how you looked splayed out beneath him, your body glistening with sweat. He swallowed hard, his cock throbbing inside your tight heat.

You clenched again around his throbbing length, relishing the way he fought to maintain control.

He let out a strangled gasp, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. "No... Fuck!" The stimulation was too much for his body to handle. With a desperate whine, he pulled his cock out of you just in time, ropes of hot cum spurting from his twitching cock, splattering across your ass and dripping down to your quivering asshole. His grip on your hips trembled and his knees weakened. He slumped a little, his head dropping back down between his shoulders.

It took him a second to get his bearings, his breathing ragged. "I'm sorry," he breathed, his voice rough. His forehead fell onto your thigh, hiding his red face. "I just- you were... I-"

He took a deep breath and mumbled, "I got nervous."

You caressed his cheek with your thumb. "It's okay, Cho. A lot of guys, especially virgins, cums quickly the first few times. It's totally normal and nothing to be embarrassed about."

His eyes closed at the contact, his breathing coming out shaky. "How many... How many have you had?" He asked suddenly.

"Of what?"

Choso looked slightly embarrassed as he fumbled for the words. "Virgins," he breathed. "How many... Virgin guys?"

You tried to find the right words. "Well, um, most of the guys I was with before... they were more, uh, experienced. You’re actually my first."

Choso stilled at the words.

"Oh," he said simply, averting his eyes. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. For some reason, he felt guilty that he couldn't give you an nice experience.

You pulled Choso close, pressing your lips to his forehead in a tender kiss. "It's alright, Cho," you murmured. "I enjoyed myself. You made me cum on your tongue almost three times, after all."

Choso grumbled, not wanting to leave off like this. He knew the others didn't matter. He knew your attention was on him, not them. But he still couldn't shake the feeling of inadequacy when it came to pleasing you.

He gripped your thighs again. "It's not okay," he mumbled.

Choso leaned into your touch, his nose nuzzling at your skin. His shoulders were tense, his grip on your thighs firm. He was trying to keep it together, but the bitter feeling was still there. He didn't even notice his grip getting tighter.

Choso wouldn't be satisfied until he was the best experience yet.

"Cho?" you asked, though he didn’t seem to hear as he repositioned himself, jealousy simmering just beneath the surface.

"I want to show you I'm the best," he muttered, more to himself.

Choso's shoulders trembled as he grabbed your thighs again, his grip on them bruising. He looked down, his tongue running over his top lip. He wanted to show you he could be better.

He was better.

Choso's face was flushed, his breathing ragged as he positioned himself at your entrance once more. With a shaky hand, he guided himself inside your slick heat, both of you letting out a soft groan at the sensation. Slowly, he began to move, setting a tentative rhythm. His movements were unpracticed but earnest, driven by instinct and desire. Each thrust brought a gasp or whimper from his lips as the pleasure built within him.

"I'll show you..." Choso breathed, his words coming out as puffs of air. "I'll show you..."

The words were more of a promise for himself. He increased the pace, the slap of skin against skin filled the room as he lost himself in the act of loving you. Sweat beaded on his brow from the exertion and intensity of the experience.

"Cho!"

"Mhm, keep saying my name," he panted, his eyes squeezing shut. A shiver ran down Choso's spine at the sound of his name. It was like the confirmation he needed, the sign that he was doing something right.

Choso's hands shook on your thighs. His words were slightly strained, as if it was taking every ounce of energy to focus. His pace increased, his breathing picking up along with it. "Say I'm better."

Your nails raked down Choso's back, leaving red trails in their wake. "You're, you're b-better!"

Choso groaned, arching into your touch. The feeling of your nails against his back sent pleasure cascading through his spine, his mind feeling hazy. Choso liked the burn of them, it was like a brand to him.

He panted, his pace getting more frantic. "Yeah..." he breathed. "You're mine. Say it again..."

"B-Better! Cho!"

Choso's arms trembled against the couch, his eyes squeezed shut as he relished in the sound of his name on your lips.

He grunted, his head lowered. "Yeah, yeah, I'm better than them. I'm better than all of them. I-"

Choso's hands slid clumsily to your hips, gripping tightly as he tried to maneuver your body. He lifted you slightly, angling you in a new position that felt foreign to you both. You ended up on your side, top leg bent and resting on Choso's shoulder as he knelt between your thighs, straddling your lower leg.

"Ah! C-Cho, wait..." You gasped as he pushed forward, his hard length spearing into your slick heat from this new angle. Your toes curled at the intense sensation of him hitting deep inside.

"S-Sorry... I just want to make you feel so good," Choso panted, his face flushed. He thrusted into you with clumsy but eager strokes, hips slapping against your thigh as he picked up the pace, grunting with effort.

You cried out, fisting the couch cushions. "Yes, Cho! just like that! Don't stop!" Choso's cock abused that spongy spot within you with each pump of his hips.

Choso's breath hitched, your scream going straight to his core. He grunted, picking up his pace. Choso suddenly felt the need to make you scream more. "Mmhm, like that," he panted. "Like that. Say my name. Say I'm winning."

"You're winni-ngggh... You're winning!"

Choso's body trembled when he heard the words, a guttural moan leaving his lips. He was going to win. He was.

He just needed to keep going-- keep you moaning for him, keep your voice cracking as you said his name.

Choso's hands gripped your thighs tightly as he shifted positions again, pulling you onto his lap. He bounced you up and down on his throbbing cock, grunting with each movement. "Ah! Ah!" He cried out, his voice echoing off the walls.

"Cho-- ngh!"

Choso leaned over your trembling body, his feet planted firmly on the floor for leverage. He needed to hear more of those sweet, desperate sounds spilling from your lips. Panting heavily, he captured one of your nipples between his teeth, biting down just enough to make you gasp then soothing the sting with a run of his tongue.

"Louder," he growled against your shoulder. "Louder, I want the whole block to hear you." His hips thrusted upwards to meet your bounces. The wet slap of flesh against flesh filled the air as he pounded into you relentlessly, chasing his own pleasure. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs, leaving red marks in their wake.

"C-Cho, Cho-zo, Cho..." you croaked. "Please... I need you, I need youuu.."

Choso felt his chest rumble at your voice. Everything about your voice set his body on fire. Every moan, every plea...

"Beg," he suddenly said, his lips ghosting against your ear. "Beg for it."

"Please..." You cried, arching your back. "Fuck, pleassseee...."

Choso groaned against your neck, the sound sending shivers down his spine. He could feel the effect your voice already had over him. He wanted more.

He needed more.

Choso awkwardly shifted into his last position on his back, his feet planted on the couch cushions. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing but tried to mimic what he had seen in videos online. You straddled his waist, your weight making him sink slightly into the cushions.

He tentatively put his hands on your hips, unsure if that was the right place. Then he began to move, thrusting upwards clumsily, his pace uneven. He couldn't believe this was really happening. You felt so warm and soft above him.

This had to be his favorite position. He fumbled to find a rhythm, his inexperienced thrusts chopped and uncoordinated. But with each one, your soft curves jiggled in the most tantalizing way, your love handles peeking out as you leaned to the side. He marveled at the way your full breasts bounced, the peaks hard and begging for him to suck them.

His gaze traced the long line of your neck as your head tipped back in pleasure. He wanted to lean in and press sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your throat, to taste the salt of your sweat-slicked skin. His gaze dropped lower to where you both connected, your greedy cunt swallowing all his girth, your ass slamming down on the sticky mess that rested on his abdomen.

"Please, what? Tell me what you need," he panted against your skin.

"--In me... In me!"

Choso stilled for a moment, his brain short circulating at the words. In. In me. The words repeated like a mantra in his head. In me. In. Me...

He lifted his head, biting the edge of his lip. "You--... You want what?" He breathed, his own voice slightly raspy.

"Cum in me," you pleaded. "Please, Cho..."

Choso's breathing hitched. His brain felt fuzzy as he shifted, positioning you and himself properly. "Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes dark.

Your head nodded enthusiastically, like a bobbing head on a rocky road.

Choso grunted at the sight. He had the overwhelming urge to give you everything. Show you exactly what you needed.

He took a deep breath. "You gonna say my name when it happens?"

"Yes, yes, yes! Please."

Choso let out a strained grunt and clung to your hips, fingers digging in almost painfully as he tried to ground himself.

"Okay. Okay-- yeah. Yeah, anything you want, just say it." His head dropped, looking up at you. His eyes were blown out, his head felt fuzzy. "Anything you want. You're mine."

His hips jerked and spasmed erratically as he reached his peak, "I'm gonna--... I'm gonna--!"

"Cho--!"

"Nnngh! Oh f-fuck!" he gasped, his voice pitching. His whole body shook with the force of his climax. Hot spurts of his seed pulsed deep inside you as he clung to you desperately. "Oh God! Y/N! I'm cumming!"

Choso's entire body shuddered as waves of intense pleasure crashed over him. His face contorted in ecstasy as he rode out the overwhelming sensations. "Ahhh! Y/N!" he cried out, your name falling from his lips like a prayer.

Pearly ropes of cum began leaking out around his pulsing shaft, making a sticky mess of your joined sexes.

"Oh god, oh fuck, holy shit..." Choso panted harshly, voice shaky and strained. His cock had managed to accidentally slip out of you but he continued to thrust up weakly like he didn't notice. More jizz spurted out to coat your ass. It felt like he was cumming forever, his balls emptying completely.

Thick globs connected you obscenely before breaking and splattering onto his abdomen below. Choso collapsed on the couch, chest heaving as he came down.

You slumped against his chest, your breaths taking in the smell of his sweat.

Choso's body shook against you, his breathing still ragged. He couldn't get any words to form properly, it was like he was trying to think through a thick fog. But that fog had his mind clouded with only one image.

You. The way you looked beneath him. The way you said his name. The way you took everything he gave.

He slumped against the couch, his head falling backwards on the hand rest. He felt himself tremble faintly against you.

He grunted, his hands tracing the skin of your damp thighs. He could feel the evidence of your activities on them, and the sight went straight to his head and straight back down to his cock.

He whimpered, focusing on not getting worked up again. You wouldn't survive if he did.

He buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent. He closed his eyes, feeling himself getting more and more tired by the second.

"Cho..." You sighed, still living in the aftershocks.

"Yeah," he breathed against your scalp, his hold on your thighs still firm. "I'm here. I'm here... Are you alright?"

You hummed, your thighs still twitching. Choso's breath hitched as he felt your thighs quiver against his hips. His own legs trembled, muscles tensing and relaxing in a futile attempt to find purchase.

His hand continued to slide up your thigh, lightly tracing patterns on the skin. "Yeah, I-..."

He suddenly let out a sigh, his eyes fluttering closed. "I can't move."

"Hm?"

Choso buried his face in the crook of your neck, nuzzling the skin as he let out a quiet whine. "I-... I don't think I can move," he mumbled. "Everything-... everything feels like jelly right now."

You attempted to move before realizing you couldn't too. "I can't either."

Choso's heart raced as he gazed at your flushed, satisfied face. The lingering scent of your lovemaking hung heavy in the air. He swallowed hard, trying to gather his scattered thoughts.

"I...I think I should clean you up," he said hesitantly. "Isn't that what comes next? After..." He trailed off, unsure how to articulate the intimacy you had just shared.

You smiled softly, reaching up to caress his cheek. "Normally, yes. But we can wait a bit."

Choso hummed against your skin, his head nodding before resting on your shoulder. He felt too tired and boneless to get up and clean anything.

He suddenly shifted, pulling you closer against his chest. Choso gently wrapped his arm around you, his hand rubbed soothing circles over your side.

"Love you, Cho." You said, pausing a moment before abruptly asking, "and what was up with 'that' before?"

Choso hummed, his eyes opening a fraction to glance at you. He knew what you were talking about, he just didn't really want to admit it.

"What do you mean, 'that'?" He asked, his voice slightly muffled by your skin.

"'Tell me I'm winning,'" you mocked him, repeating what he'd groaned earlier.

Choso's cheeks flared. Hearing you repeat his words made him all too aware of how it sounded.

He didn't say anything for a moment. "... It-... It just slipped out," he mumbled, his voice slightly pouty. He felt your eyebrow raise as you gave you a confused look. He suddenly became more aware of the sound of his own breathing in the quiet room.

"You can't-... don't look at me like that," he muttered, burrowing his head into the crook of your neck.

"Were you jealous?"

Choso paused, his hands suddenly stilling. Were he jealous? He... He had been jealous. Of all the men who'd seen you before, touched you before, heard you moan their names before-

"Yes," he muttered, his breath hot against your skin.

You giggled breathly, "why?"

"What do you mean why?" He mumbled against your skin. "I'm-... You're mine. I don't like the thought of other guys having seen you like that."

Your chin propped between his large pecs, rubbing his neck, "they didn't make me feel half as good as you made me feel tonight, though."

Choso felt his chest rumble, tilting his head back as a sigh left his lips from your touch. He closed his eyes, enjoying the way your thumb felt against his skin.

Then your words suddenly registered in his brain, a wave of satisfaction and ego suddenly rushing through him.

Choso opened his eyes and suddenly found himself taking in your appearance. He drank in the disheveled hair, the flushed skin, the slight sheen of sweat.

Choso's breath hitched as he felt himself start to stiffen again, his body responding eagerly despite his mind's uncertainty. He had never been this intimate with someone before, let alone three times in one night. Part of him wanted to hide his renewed arousal, embarrassed by his lack of control. But another part, emboldened by your earlier encouragement, dared to hope you might want him again.

You gasped softly as you felt Choso's hardness press against your backside. Your eyes went wide, pulse quickening. "Choso, you can't be..."

He followed your gaze to where he was poking you and suddenly found himself turning red.

"I-..I can't help it," he mumbled, his voice raspy. "You just look-... you-" he groaned suddenly, burying his head in the crook of your neck again.

You groaned. "I built a monster."

Choso suddenly let out a huff against your skin, his hands suddenly grabbing your waist.

His tone suddenly turned needy, almost whiny. "You did," he mumbled. "You turned me into this. And now you have to take responsibility."

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celestemona · 3 months ago

Text

⋆˙⟡ — FOUR TIMES MUALANI SUSPECTED SOMETHING WAS GOING ON (AND ONE TIME SHE WAS RIGHT)

pairing: kinich x reader

cw: no pronouns mentioned. ajaw is in a vacation. slight but not slight pda. mualani overreacting but she is a sweet. best friends trio. pyro vision reader mentioned. not beta-read.

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

Mualani knew Kinich and you were friends—close best friends, just like you two were with her—but lately, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

It started with little things, almost too subtle to be noticeable but somehow it didn’t escape from her perception. Things like how Kinich, ever the quiet guy, had begun lingering a little too long when he talked to you, or how you’d run all your way to the Scions of the Canopy's village just to welcome him back after a mission.

At first, she didn’t pay too much attention thinking you guys were just being more affectionative and caring to each other. However, as time passed by, it has been shown to be more than a mutual friendly appreciation and certainly beyond a mere coincidence.

The first time Mualani noticed something different was in an early morning by the coast, watching the waves curl and crash. She often started her day stretching at the shore and riding the first waves of dawn. But this time, as she rounded a cliff, she spotted Kinich and you sitting on a rock overlooking the sea. The two of you were close enough that your arms brushed every time the wind picked up.

Kinich’s usual stern expression was softer than usual. Mualani squinted at you suspiciously. Were you... holding hands?

She jogged closer, but just as she got near enough to say something, Kinich quickly stood up, putting a considerable distance between you and himself. “You're up early,” he said, his voice in its usual calm.

You smiled warmly. “Hey girl! How are the waves? We were just discussing about it.”

Mualani tilted her head, narrowing her eyes. “You were? Really?”

You let out a light and confusing laugh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Of course.”

She didn’t quite buy it, but you didn’t give her any reason to push further. “Well, the waves are good today! You guys joining?”

Kinich only gave her a polite headshaking, while you nodded smiling. Maybe she was imagining things.

II.

Except she wasn’t.

A few days later, you were hanging out by Tequemecan Valley' canyons with Kinich standing quietly while you and Mualani chatted. However, every time she glanced toward him, Kinich seemed to be watching you a little too intently. It wasn’t the usual hunter’s focus; it was softer, caring, almost like... adoring.

The girl squinted, pretending to be interested in some flowers nearby while keeping an eye on you two. You didn’t seem to notice anything, or if did, you didn’t mind. You just kept talking, your laughter filling the air.

When Mualani caught Kinich staring again, she couldn’t help but ask, “Kinich, you okay? You’ve been zoning out all day.”

He blinked, his neutral mask slipping back into place. “I’m fine.”

“He’s just tired from all the training,” you teased, winking at him.

Mualani raised an eyebrow, astonished by the scene before her eyes. Something was definitely going on.

III.

The third time came on a day when Mualani was guiding a group of Sumeru’s travelers near the springs when she spotted you and Kinich again, standing by the water. As she approached, she saw Kinich leaning down to whisper something to you, his lips close to your ear. You giggled softly in response.

Wait a minute... Kinich never whispers to anyone. Much less in such an intimate way and even less to make someone laugh. Mualani's instincts flared up immediately. What was he saying? And why did you look so happy about it?

She cleared her throat loudly as she walked up. “Hey. What are you two whispering about?”

Kinich straightened up quickly, crossing his arms. “Nothing important.”

You smiled at her, but there was a glimmer in your eyes that made the girl even more suspicious. “Just a silly joke,” you said lightly.

A joke, huh? Mualani filed it away in her mind. This time she was very determined to figure out what was going on between you two.

IV.

It was late afternoon, and Mualani had just finished surfing when she saw you two by the waterside. Kinich and you stood close, so close as it has strangely been, and for a brief moment, she could have sworn Kinich was about to lean in and kiss you.

She froze, watching from a distance as you smiled up at him, your palm softly pushing his chest away. Were you two really about to kiss? It couldn’t be just her angle view. Could it be?

But just as quickly as it happened, Kinich stepped back, his usual stoic demeanor falling back into place. You turned and waved at her, your smile as bright as ever.

“Lani. Hey! How was the surf?” you called out.

Mualani, still in shock, shook her head. “Uh... good. Really good.”

She stared at you both for a moment longer, convinced she’d almost witnessed something, but there was no proof. Again.

In the several days that followed, Mualani continued to witness that strangeness that kept repeating itself every time you thought she wasn’t around, creating a certain tension between her and you and Kinich—although she doubted that you had noticed any difference, treating her as you always did from the beginning.

Even if it relieved her to know that nothing had changed in your friendship, the surfer couldn't help but feel upset too. Was it that bad if she found out? Didn't you trust her the same way she trusted you? She wanted to be able to release all of her thoughts and ask you if maybe there was something in your bond that was bothering you. But she didn't. And so, things remained the same.

That was a quiet evening, and the moon hung low over the mountains. Mualani had been taking a stroll, enjoying the peaceful night, when she stumbled upon you.

This time, though, there was no mistaking it—Kinich and you stood together under some trees, locked in a slow, deep kiss.

The girl’s cheeks burned as red as the pyro vision you hold so dear closely, eyes widely opening and heart skipping a beat. She gasped, louder than she intended, and both of you quickly turned toward her. You blinked twice before smiling stiffly, even daring to look a bit embarrassed, while Kinich gave her a calm look, his hands still resting on your waist.

“You two!” She exclaimed shaking her head, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me earlier! I mean, I knew something was up, but really?”

You bit your lip while Kinich just blinked at her, slightly starting to look more guilty as well.

“We didn’t mean to keep it from you for long,” you said as you stepped out of Kinich’s arms and reached for her hand. “We were just... taking our time.”

Mualani arched an eyebrow. “Taking your time? You two were being so weird and annoying with all those suspicious interactions for weeks now! I’m supposed to be your best friend!”

Kinich rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. “We wanted to keep it quiet,” he said, his voice low. “At first, anyway.”

Mualani softened, her fake scold melting away into genuine affection. “Still, I would’ve loved to know sooner,” she said, her tone gentler now. “You know me better than anyone else. You know I would never judge you,” she sighed as she watches the sorrow on your face. “Nevertheless, I’m really happy for you both. Really am.”

You beamed and even Kinich’s usual stoic expression seemed to relax slightly.

Mualani continued, her voice full of warmth. “I’ve always known you two had something special. And now that I know for sure, you better believe I’m fully on board with this!” She shot Kinich a playful look. “Just make sure you treat (Y/N) right, okay?”

Kinich nodded, his eyes softening as he glanced at you. “I will.”

You squeezed Mualani’s hand, your eyes sparkling with gratitude and pure happiness. “Thank you, Lani. Your support means a lot to us.”

Mualani grinned, pulling you both into a tight hug. “Just don’t keep secrets from me again, alright? I’m always here for you two.”

You all laughed but shared a quick but sweet bond moment, the atmosphere light and easy. And somehow, Mualani couldn’t help but feel like everything had fallen into place just the way it was meant to.

“But just for your information. If the day comes of you get engaged and don’t tell me immediately, I’ll crash the proposal myself, make a huge scene, and tell everyone how long I’ve had to put up with your not so secret glances and not so subtle hand-holding. Trust me, it won’t be pretty!”

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kinich #kinich x reader #mualani

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inkskinned · 7 months ago

Text

how odd, to watch the creative writing exercises of angry men in the comments of instagram. you noticed it first in the comments of conventionally attractive women - but then it started appearing everywhere else, too.

a young man talks about what lunch he's packing his wife. there is a little story under it, with 300 likes, fabricated from nothing. "this is pointless. if you treat her like this, she will take the lunch to her office and fuck her boss and divorce him and take all his money."

you scroll. a young woman talks about what lunch she's packing for her husband. it is always uglier when the subject of the video is a woman, you've noticed. "you sit on camera and you smile and you are cheating with the neighbor and then you're going to lie about being sexually assaulted by your husband and -"

you stop reading. it has 567 likes.

where did this even become a thing? people making up stories in their head, disgusting long-winded assumptions about intention and sexual disgrace. the evil twin of fanfiction.

like - it's just a lie. it's a lie that they are telling, baldfaced and assumptive. the undercurrent is of course misogyny, but the trouble is that they're so fucking certain. that's what makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise. there is this pervasive, inventive desire for them to be right. that they must be right. all women are cheating, lying, gold-digging bitches. no exceptions.

in the reverse, when women say i'd rather meet a bear in the woods than a strange man - men funnel in from the sides. they defend each other with a vibrance and capacity for empathy you wish applied to like, the other half of the population. a man could be saying i absolutely did kill her and these creatures in the comments would rise up with king shit. she made it happen. they love each other to the point of this sick strange self-gaslighting, a fervent and unhinged cognitive distortion. all men are good, wonderful people. all women are terrible, conniving, seditious, annoying.

and when did it become okay to just, like... say that kind of a thing? at one point, you find yourself typing out a witty and snappy retort. why are you spending so much time fantasizing about other people babe. but as you stare at the screen, some part of you pictures this man in public, saying these things to your face. his soapbox, high and mighty. his mirrored sunglasses and his empty life: tired and lonely.

what a sad and horrible loop he's locked in. he is terrible to women, so women don't talk to him, which he uses as an excuse to act more terribly. he blames this "failure" on women, rather than on his behavior. it cannot be that he is the problem (that the solution is to just put his ego down and accept women as equals) - he begins to invent a sculpture to replace the flesh frame of each person he sees.

it isn't just a woman posing on the beach. it is now a slut with a desperate need for each person to crave her body. it isn't just a woman yelping with surprise during something upsetting. it is a hysterical, unhelpful cretin who will probably make things worse instead of better. it isn't a person.

someone's very sweet wedding vows get moderate attention on instagram. in the comments, a man says good fucking luck you'll waste your life providing while behind your back she's absolutely fucking the best man. this will be so cringe in 2 months when she walks out on you.

you think - is that what you need to be true? is that what you need to happen, for the world to make sense to you?

#writeblr #every time i see these little creative writing projects i see red lol #girl go write a novel or do ur homework or something.#if youre gonna lie on the internet at least stop badgering women. do it in the privacy #of your poor sad reddit boards

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augustinewrites · 6 months ago

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yesterday afternoon - after an unsuccessful coffee shop date - you’d decided that dating sucked. it was much too awkward and formal and not at all like it was in the movies, putting too much pressure on the people involved.

last night - after watching shoko flirt her way into free drinks - you’d been tipsy enough to take her advice.

casual sex! it doesn't have to be with a stranger, just pick someone you know. someone you’re sure you won't fall in love with.

this morning you’d woken up to find gojo laying in bed next to you.

you lay shoulder to shoulder with the one person you should not have picked, staring up at the ceiling, waiting for the other person to speak.

“did we really–”

“three times,” satoru confirms happily, rolling onto his side to grin down at you. “i'm surprised we didn't do this sooner, really. our sexual tension has always been off the charts.”

when he leans in to kiss you, his lips meet your palm as your expression wrinkles. “don’t get familiar.”

“we’re naked together in bed– we slept together in more than the literal sense. can’t get more familiar than that.”

“and this never happen again,” you promise, refusing to look at him.

“why? because you’re afraid you’ll fall in love with me? it’s okay to admit it. i'm extremely lovable.”

you’ve seen the way girls fawn over him. how they swoon over his pretty eyes and confident smile. he’s satoru gojo. a legend amongst jujutsu society. you’re no one in comparison, not a user of an otherworldly cursed technique, not from a major clan.

people like him don’t fall for people like you. you’re afraid of rejection, afraid of being hurt.

“we’re friends,” you tell him honestly. “i don’t want to risk ruining our friendship over something like this.”

he tilts his head as your look at him. “shoko told you to try casual sex, didn't she? why not with me?”

“she told you?” you groan, dragging a hand down your face and making a mental note to never ask your roommate for advice for anything ever again.

“hey, look at me,” he urges, grasping your hand. you do as he says, meeting his earnest gaze. “i can be casual and chill, it’s not like i have a huge crush on you or anything.”

it’s so hard to say no to him. you really wish you could.

“i’ll think about it,” you tell him, rolling your eyes when he fist pumps. “but you need to go home before shoko sees you.”

but you’re dealing with satoru gojo, who almost never does what he’s told. “you’re not getting rid of me that easily. come here.”

he winds an arm around you, pulli my you in so you’re snug against his chest. explicit memories of last night flash through your mind, sending heat through your veins.

“i can’t.” you tell him (though you’re mostly reminding yourself.) this is insane— satoru, what are you—”

you’re cut off when he shushes you, whispering let’s sleep in for a little while longer.

he starts to drift off again as you struggle to escape his grasp, but your efforts are futile. even on the throes of sleep, satoru is stronger than you.

so you give up, resigning yourself to a few more minutes of…cuddling. shoko isn’t a morning person anyways.

after a minute, you find it's not entirely awful. it’s a purely physical reaction. gojo is good looking, even with his hair mussed with sleep and his mouth hanging open. because you know that under the softness of his skin lays defined muscle, and spending the morning in his nicely toned arms isn’t the worst thing in the world.

(it’s purely physical, is what your head tries to convince your heart, which is beating a little faster than usual.)

a very soft, content sigh slips past your lips.

then, shoko knocks on your door.

“hey! don’t tell me you’re too hungover for grocery shopping.”

“shit!” you whisper harshly, shoving him away from you. “she cannot see you in here.”

“afraid you’ll have to share?” he teases, narrowly avoiding being hit with a pillow. “okay, okay! where do you want me?”

“closet!” you instruct, scrambling my around the room to make sure none of his clothes are lying around. you thrust them into his hands, pushing him into your closet.

he catches the door before you can close it, smiling down at you. “aren’t you glad we’re doing this?”

you shove him inside, slamming the door shut just ask shoko bursts into the room.

“hey,” you greet, trying your best to appear casual as you lean against the door. your heart beats in your throat, as she squints at you, then lets her gaze sweep across the room.

“did you bring someone home last night?”

“no.”

she looks at you. really looks at you, you think.

“okay,” she finally says, though you can’t tell if she believes you. “i just– i thought i saw you leave with gojo. suguru said you two were flirting all night.”

“gojo and i?” you try to laugh, but it comes out a little strained. “never in a million years.”

shoko only shrugs, and you let yourself relax when she turns to leave…

…only for her to turn around once more, leaning the the doorframe. “well if you really don't like him, just let him down easy, alright? suguru told me he has a huge crush on you.”

wait–

“gojo?”

you hear a sharp inhale through the door.

“yeah,” she nods. “you really couldn't tell?”

gojo…has a crush on you. it takes a few seconds to truly sink in. “i had no idea.”

“of course you didn't. he’s definitely got a really weird way of showing it.”

she turns to leave for real this time, but you wait a couple extra seconds before opening your closet, finding a wide eyed, blushing satoru staring at you.

you can't help but laugh. at his expression, at shoko’s revelation, at this entire situation.

dating sucks, but maybe it won’t be that bad if it’s with him.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff

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loves0phelia · 23 days ago

Note

Hi! I don’t know if you’ve watched part 2 of outer banks yet, and if you didn’t this request is a spoiler!!

Can you do JJ Maybank’s sister seeing him die and Rafe is just watching her break down and he’s comforting her while she cries in his arms? I’m sobbing over JJ right now 😭

Thank you!

Gone

Summery: outer banks season 4 episode 10/the anon

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: SPOILERS, death, grammar mistakes.

A/N: i also sobbed, i cant believe it and thank you for requesting love youuu.

The sandstorm hit suddenly. The air was thick, nearly solid with dust. You stumbled forward as the wind blew strongly, You screamed, begging JJ to come down before something terrible would happen but even if you pulled the scarf tighter across your nose and mouth every breath felt like swallowing shards of glass making it hard to speak.

Everything was clouded and your goggles were smeared with sand dust. It was impossible to see your brother who was up high on that statue trying to find the blue crown you, the pogues and Rafe have been risking your lives for.

“Come down JJ!” You screamed as loud as you could, hoping he could hear you over the screaming wind.

A surge of panic rose in you, he wasn't listening, only going higher and higher to reach the top.

“Hurry please!” You screamed again as the sandstorm was getting worse and worse. Squinting your eyes you could see JJ finally descending the statue after a while, carefully holding on to the rock.

“JJ, holy shit are you okay?” You rushed forward to him as he stumbled around frantically.

“I'm good! I'm better actually, I'm great. Look!” he yelled over the storm and held up the blue crown, it felt like a dream having it in front of you.

“No way, you found it” You both looked down at the dusty historical crown in silence for a second, sinking in it the victory that was so rare when it came to you and your twin.

“We got it!” He cheered, pumping his fist, jumping into place from all the adrenaline. The victory cheers didn't last long though, the next thing you knew shots were fired at you from the group who wanted to steal what was rightfully yours.

“Run, run, run” JJ shouted behind you as you ran through the sand blindly and desperate to find shelter.

The sandstorm roared with life around you, Yours and JJ's footsteps vanished almost as quickly as you made them, erased by the wind.

You coughed, your lungs stinging as you struggled to run down the stairs you had found leading inside the monument.

But suddenly, a shadow appeared out of the storm. A strong hand gripped your forearms and in a sudden movement, your back was pressed on your “father's” chest, an arm around your neck holding on tightly, cutting your airflow and a sharp blade pressed into the side of your face.

“JJ!” you called out, trying to get out of his grasp.

“Let her go!” JJ shouted, his voice trembling with anger. He lunged towards you trying to rip you away from him but he only pressed the blade harder making you cry out. But Groff only shook his head.

You cried, struggling, and your heart pounding as Groff’s grip tightened. You fought against him, but his hold was unbreakable.

“You’re just like your mother,” Groff hissed, his gaze cold and unmoved. “Always standing in my way. Well, this time, you’re not going to stop me. Give me what I want”

“Let her go” He begged.

“If you had listened, we wouldn't be here JJ, you could have had everything. WE could have had the life we deserved as a family. All three of us. But now you get nothing. Nothing at all” Chandler pants like a maniac.

“I already have everything,” JJ says, shaking his head in disbelief. “I have everything I ever wanted. You want the crown? Sure, take it. I don't want it. Just let my sister go.”

“Give it to me, hold it out” He reached toward JJ for the precious object, his grip on you not loosening.

In a swift moment, an exchange was made. Groff grasped the crown, and JJ pulled you out of his arms.

“I got you” JJ breathed out with relief, like a weight was removed from his shoulders. He hugged you protectively. Holding your head against his shoulder like a shield. But then again, the victory was cut short.

“JJ, y/n” you were interrupted by the voice of your father, his call made both of you separate and turn to face him, JJ’s body still shielding you from further harm.

“It's a shame…you and I” You furrowed your brows and a gasp came out of your mouth when the sound of flesh being pierced rang out.

“You should have given me the rope” Time was moving at a slow pace as the scene unfolded. Groff twisted the knife in JJ's stomach before pulling it out rapidly and running out into the desert.

"JJ!" You screamed, your voice raw with terror. You saw JJ stumble back, his hands flying to his side. Dark red blood was spreading through his shirt and across his fingers, and the sight of it hit you like a punch to the gut.

The world narrowed to the scene in front of you as you watched JJ fall, his face contorted in pain.

“No, no, no” you cried, desperation thick in your voice.

You rushed to JJ’s side, catching him just as he stumbled. He looked up at you, his face pale and stained with tears.

“It's okay JJ, it's okay” You pressed into his wound, shaking terribly, sobbing when he let out a pained groan.

“No, please” you murmured, pressing your hand over the wound in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding. “You’re going to be okay. Just stay with me, okay? Stay with me.”

“Hey, hey,” He whispered, his voice breaking. “Take care of the others for me, okay?”

“No! No” Your breaths shakes, your chest tight with sadness.

“I love you, y/n. You're the best sister anyone could ever have.” His gaze was beginning to drift, his eyes unfocused, and the strength in his grip was fading. Panic clawed at you.

“I love you, please don't go” you begged, but it was pointless he was already gone.

“No! No, no. Please! JJ, please” you shaked his shoulder weakly.

“John B!” You screamed, your chest burning from the lack of oxygen your lungs were getting.

“Pope! Rafe!” Your hands gripped your brother refusing to let go.

“Please JJ!” Your heart shattered completely, a part of you gone forever. Your brother, your twin, your best friend, the other half of your soul, gone.

“Please” You pressed your forehead against him, your tears falling over the blood-soaked shirt.

The pogues came running towards you, sinking to their knees, calling out to him, crying, sobbing, mourning.

Everything in you gave out as you held onto him, you couldn't even fight when hands grabbed onto your shoulder to bring you away from your brother's corpse.

Your body fell limp into Rafe's lap. His hands held your body up as if he was your lifeline.

“It's gonna be okay” He whispered against your forehead but you barely registered any of it, only sobbing, and screaming in pain against him.

The Pogues stood in a tight circle, all eyes fixed on JJ as if somehow their stares alone could bring him back. But no one spoke, and in the heavy silence, the truth crashed over them, settling deep in their bones. JJ was gone.

Kiara’s shoulders shook, a small, trembling motion that quickly overtook her entire body. She fell to her knees, hands pressed to her mouth as she fought to hold back the sobs.

Pope was beside her, his eyes frantically looking over the scene, he didn't want to believe any of it, as if it was a cruel joke.

John B stood, rigid. His fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white, and his jaw was set, teeth gritted as he tried to hold it all in, to keep the pain from breaking him apart.

Rafe's arms wrapped around you gently, his hand resting on the back of your head as he let you fall into his chest. You buried your face in his shoulder, the grief and sorrow pouring out in waves as he held you.

He didn’t speak of the rivalry, the old wounds and the bitterness between your families; none of that mattered now. At this moment, all he saw was your pain, and he was there, his own heart breaking a little as he watched you crumble.

When the sobs finally subsided, leaving you weak and exhausted, Rafe pulled back slightly, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his eyes filled with something you’d never seen in him before—softness, understanding.

“It's okay,” he murmured, his voice a promise, his hand gentle as he brushed a stray tear from your cheek. “I’ve got you.”

You sat on the sand as a fire crackled in front of you, you had just buried him, the silence was thick nobody wanted to believe the truth.

Your head pounded, even when you were softly laying on Rafe's legs using them as pillows. His calloused fingers gently rubbed your hair and you tried to concentrate on the movement in an attempt to forget about the previous moment but you failed.

“Groff said he was going to Lisbon” Rafe whispered above you, making your eyes open and looking up at him. His eyes met yours and he continued.

“If he was my friend or my brother… I would go after the guy that just killed him” The mention made your heart burn but he had a point.

“He's not wrong” Kie whispered, agreeing with your inner thoughts. You snuggled against Rafe's legs one last time before sitting up and leaning your head on his shoulder.

“JJ would already be on his way to kill him if it was one of us,” you said and everyone's eyes snapped towards you, those were the first words you had spoken since it happened.

“He'd get even,” John B added.

“Let's get revenge,” you said, your voice more confident than it was before, you felt a hand grasp onto yours and slowly you turned your head to face Rafe. He nodded and tightened his grip in a comforting way, never letting go.

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