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selfcarecap · 10 months ago

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✧ Logan Howlett x reader x Storm

✧ summary: Storm and Logan are both hopelessly crushing on you. When they realise that they both like you, they get into a silent competition about who can win you over first… until they realise there might not be a need to make you choose; or: You have a threesome with Logan and Storm

✧ warnings: smut 18+, threesome, oral, fingering, handjob, unprotected piv sex, creampie, liiittle bit of ass play, use of dildo between reader and Storm, I think those are the main things, reader is sub-ish and Logan and Storm are more dominant, reader gets called baby, good girl, princess, pretty girl, bub, nothing happens between Logan and Storm btw because I’m a jealous bitch, reader is shy and a bit awkward, this is definitely mostly porn but romantic feelings are implied too, reader is bi, talking about coming out, but reader is in denial about her crush on Storm and also on Logan bc she’s oblivious and a lil insecure tbh, mention of being drunk, they’re all mutants but it doesn’t rlly come up, Logan is taller than the reader, the part leading up to the smut is a little unserious lol they’re all just whipped but yeah it’s kind of a different fic from my prev Logan ones idk it’s more just fun for the first part; also alternative title is BOAF but I didn’t know how many people would get that lol

✧ word count: oh. umm 11k (the main smut is 4k at the end if you wanna skip to that loll I’ve put a divider (stars) so you know when it starts, you don’t necessarily need to know the backstory)

✧ note: Recently watched X-Men 1 for the first time (yeah i know) and these two are literally the definition of bi panic whaaaatttttt + also I called her Storm and not Ororo(?) because I’ve only watched X Men 1 where they just call her Storm so that’s the only way I’m familiar with her, so yeah idk if anyone else wants this combination of characters but i def do so <33

You’re focussed as you do your daily stretches, completely oblivious to Storm and Logan watching you from the other side of the gym.

They stare as you bend down into downward dog and you make a little exhausted noise at the stretch. Logan almost flinches with how good it feels to hear it; with his enhanced senses it’s as if you’re moaning right into his ear.

Storm’s eyes trail up your legs, over your pink gym set that clings to you in all the right places. She watches a pearl of sweat slide down your belly – she wishes she could lick it off your skin. Logan thinks about making you sweat more if he finally gets you in his bed one day.

He clears his throat after you slide down to your knees, arch your spine and let out a little contented sigh at the welcome stretch. A movement to his right catches Logan’s eye. Storm is standing right next to him, hands on her hips, mirroring his own position.

Is she here to stare at you too? Not that that’s what he’s doing. He was training here himself and was done a few minutes after you got here. Resting his eyes is part of the cooldown – you just so happen to be in his view.

“You training today?” Logan breaks the silence.

“Trained earlier this morning,” Storm answers, folding her arms, “What’re you doing here?” She sounds almost accusatory.

“Just finished my workout. Making sure she’s fine with the weights.” Their eyes drift to you, still stretching.

“She said she might use weights later,” Logan adds, averting his eyes.

The only thing Logan doesn’t like about his little crush on you – if you can even call it that – (you can definitely call it that) is that it sometimes makes him nervous, even if just a little. You’re so sweet and so shy and you’re usually oblivious to his flirting. He’s not used to that.

“Aha,” Storm nods with suspicion and slowly walks out of the gym.

Logan sighs a breath of relief and hopes you didn’t hear any of that. He stops himself from looking at your cute little gym outfit again and leaves to shower.

Later that day, Storm knocks at your bedroom door, “I’ve made lunch if you want some.”

Her voice is so angelic, you think, and you briefly wonder if that’s a normal opinion to have about your friend. It’s not just her voice, but those pretty lips her voice comes out of – just from woman to woman. She has nice lips. That can totally be a platonic compliment.

You realise she’s waiting for you to answer as you just stare at her gorgeous, gorgeous face – okay, maybe you do like her as more than a friend.

“That’s so sweet of you, I’ll come join you,” you put on a high-pitched platonic voice.

You’re sitting down at the table getting your plates ready – Storm made your favourite food, said she was just craving the taste today – when Logan comes in.

“Brought my own lunch, thought I could join you?” He asks but doesn’t wait for an answer, sitting down next to you.

“What if you can’t?” Storm says, an eyebrow raised, though playfully.

“And what would your explanation be?”

“We need girl time.”

You’re looking between them with wide puppy eyes. You’re not sure if they’re being playful after all. Their faces soften when they look at you.

“Maybe Logan can stay for lunch and we’ll go to your room later?” you suggest, “We can have a sleepover tonight.”

Storm’s face lights up, “Good idea.” You miss the smirk she gives Logan, who then huffs.

Logan takes off his leather jacket. You’re sure that’s just your mind playing tricks on you but it almost looks as if he’s doing it deliberately slowly, showing off his big, defined arms. You’re drooling like a dog.

He reaches across the table and your eyes stay glued to his triceps until you hear your name.

“What?”

Logan smiles down at you, “I asked if you could pass the salt.”

You swallow and nod, eyes searching for the salt, but Storm gets there before you. She firmly presses the salt shaker into his hand, and his arm is gone from in front of your face. You resist the urge to pout.

A moment later though, Logan reaches out for the pepper himself, “Sorry, just needa…” He fumbles with the shaker across the table. This time his arm is angled differently and your eyes land right on one of those delicious veins on his skin.

Storm is kind enough to pass him the pepper too, but this time you think you audibly sigh with frustration when Logan pulls his arm back to his body. You focus on eating instead of panicking about whether either of them heard that.

Storm swallows down her jealousy after watching you mesmerised by Logan’s arms for what felt like an eternity with no idea how obvious you were being.

She finishes her glass of water and gets up to get more. She looks at Logan as she walks to the sink. Two can play this game.

With her back turned to the both of you, Storm undoes the top two buttons of her shirt and places the pendant of her necklace right between her breasts. When she sits back down, she leans her elbow on the table and pushes her forearm right against the side of her tits. Your eyes are immediately drawn to them like a honeybee to a flower.

Storm bites back a smirk. She remains silent so as not to pull your attention away from her cleavage. She wants you to get lost there as long as you need to.

Logan rolls his eyes at her and asks you to pass some food from across the table, pulling you out of your trance.

You see the next exchange of looks between the two of them – their eyes do all the talking. You look away and realise… are they flirting? You thought they were mad at each other, having a silent argument, but now you think you might have been wrong. They’re teasing each other.

You can’t decide if you should be jealous or turned on. They’re the two people you have a crush on – again, platonic crushes, obviously. If they got together, in whatever way, at least they’d make a hot couple for you to stare at. But you’d also be devastated that it’s not you who gets to be with either of them.

A quiet sound catches your attention – Storm’s fingernail against her necklace, the necklace that’s nestled right between her breasts. You briefly wonder if she’s trying to get Logan’s attention with it, but in that moment you don’t feel jealous. You just appreciate what’s in front of you.

With your elbow perched on the table, you’re leaning your head against your hand, and you notice too late that your arm is sliding off the table. You gasp when your head loses its support and you sit up quickly, gaze pulled away from Storm.

Heat blooms on your face and you lift your glass of water to your mouth to cool yourself down. But the picture of Storm’s perfect boobs lingers in your mind and you spill half of the water. It rolls down your neck and to your chest, and before you can even consider drying off, Storm’s holding a folded up napkin to your skin, patting from your collarbones to the neckline of your low-cut top.

“Awh, there you go,” she’s done patting you dry and gives you a reassuring smile. Your nipples get hard at the close contact. You hope she doesn’t notice.

You hear a scoff from Logan. Maybe he got something stuck in his teeth. Or maybe it’s directed at you and Storm.

“Thanks, Storm,” you smile your sweet smile and finish your meal.

But you’re not oblivious to what’s going on between them – the looks they’re giving each other – and you don’t know if you like it yet. Not that your opinion matters, sadly.

You bring your own pillow to Storm’s bedroom that night for your sleepover, but she’s got her bed made up all comfy with more pillows than you could need.

“Didn’t know how many you needed,” Storm tells you from in front of her mirror, “I’m so happy we’re doing this. We haven’t had any alone time in so long. Been so busy.”

She’s braiding her hair for the night, hair pulled to one side as she curls the bottom of her strands around her finger, her beautiful neck now exposed. You think about falling to your knees and begging for just one touch. Maybe draw your finger across her skin, or better yet – your lips. The way friends do.

It’s between the first and second film that you decide to finally say something. You were going to ask her during a boring scene of the romcom you just watched but it suddenly turned into a sex scene. You did your best to seem unbothered and tried to move naturally, scratching your head and flexing your wrist. You’re not sure if it worked.

“Soo,” you turn to your side to face Storm as the credits play, “You and Logan?”

You reach into the bag of gummy bears between you and Storm, attempting to seem nonchalant, as if her answer won’t affect you.

She looks a little panicked, and you’re afraid you know what her answer is going to be.

“What about us?” she asks.

You give her a suggestive look but she waits for you to say it.

“Well, is there something going on between you two? I felt like you were flirting during lunch.”

“No, not at all,” she says almost too quickly, “We’re just friends, if that.”

“Really? You’d make an attractive couple.”

She lowers her voice, “We’re really not into each other like that.” You believe her, and withhold your big breath of relief.

“And anyway, I prefer women,” she adds.

“Really? I mean, yeah, I thought you might. I wasn’t sure. I do too, by the way. Well, I like everyone. I mean not everyone obviously but I like all genders. Not that that’s relevant.”

Storm smiles at you sweetly and puts a soft hand on your wrist. “Of course it’s relevant. I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me.”

You giggle nervously, “Of course. I trust you more than anyone in this house.”

Storm’s heart swells in her chest.

You continue, “Well, and Logan obviously.”

Oh.

Obvious, is it?

Well, Storm can work with that.

She picks an incredibly gay film next. She didn’t do it on purpose. She just happened to see the film on Netflix. Sure, perhaps she chose it because there were two women in the picture, but she genuinely wasn’t aware how much sex was in the film.

You’re squirming beside her, even more than during the straight romcom you just watched, and it drives her crazy. She’s just better at hiding it, but she’s turned on too. She wishes she and Logan hadn’t fought over your attention during lunch; if you hadn’t thought that there was something going on between them you might have been ready for more tonight. But she ignores her desire for you, holding her arm tightly as she presses her nails against her skin to relieve some pressure.

When the film is over, Storm tells you how she realised she likes women. When she was little, she had a crush on her babysitter, and ever since then she just knew. You grow bashful when she asks you for your story.

“Uh, Halle Berry as Catwoman? That did it for me,” you tell her as your cheeks heat up. Storm only vaguely remembers the film, but she still has in mind that all of her friends told her that the main character looked like her.

It’s not that she didn’t know you were attracted to her before, but that solidifies it. Now she just has to get rid of Logan.

Storm is busy the next day and you miss her presence the entire morning. You woke up before her, your hands still intertwined from when you fell asleep like that, and – like a fucking loser idiot – you imagined what it was like to be her girlfriend and wake up next to her every day.

Now that you know she doesn’t like Logan, you can fantasise about being with her again without the jealousy looming underneath if he got her before you. And she didn’t just say she wasn’t attracted to him (which is crazy) but that they’re both not into each other (which is crazy of Logan). Both of your crushes are safe.

You decide to try out a new stretching routine to distract yourself from how much you’re missing Storm, your bestie who has no idea how much you like her. The positions are nothing you can’t do, but they’re definitely more challenging than your usual.

Logan’s not expecting to see you when he enters the gym; you’re not normally here at this time.

“Hi,” he says. Your head is between your legs as you’re bent upside down. He crouches down to smile at you from between your thighs.

You grin, standing up to turn towards him to say hello.

“Y’need some help?” He asks. It’s more of a rhetorical question, he’s being polite.

“Actually, there’s this stretch I can’t get into. I think I should be able to do it, but I just need someone to help push me there.”

Logan huffs out a laugh. This is like the porn he plays in his head every night with you and him in the starring roles. “Of course. Where do you want me?”

It’s even better than he could have dreamed. He thought you’d need him to hold your hands and pull to add some resistance, but now you’re bent over in front of him and he’s pushing you into a stretch like a pervy gym instructor.

You keep letting out these little huffs every time you ask Logan to push you further. They sound awfully close to moans. His knee is pressing into the back of yours like you asked him to but you keep asking for more.

He changes up his position, standing behind you fully. If he moved even an inch forward you’d feel his cock pushing against your ass. Logan would usually feel like he’s taking advantage with all the thoughts running through his mind about little innocent you but you’re the one arching even further into him.

He thanks himself for his level of self control and how he manages not to get hard with your pretty ass pressed up against him. It fuels the animalistic side of him and he wants nothing more than to fuck you right here, right now.

It was obvious that you were attracted to him before, but with the way you’re pushing back against his crotch makes him realise that it’s far from innocent.

“Thank you, that felt really good,” you tell him when you stand back up, losing balance after hanging your head upside down for so long. You use Logan’s chest to brace yourself, palms against the hard muscles there. His hands fly to your waist as he makes sure you’re alright. You nod shyly and, with another quick thanks, quickly make your way to your bathroom.

He’s got you. Now he just has to get rid of Storm, and she’s really good with you.

You check in Storm’s room after a long shower, but she’s still out. You find Logan in the kitchen; he’s looking through the almost empty cabinets.

“Wanna go shopping?”

You didn’t think grocery shopping could turn you on, but everything Logan does makes you want to rip off his clothes.

The little things fuel your crush in more heart-warming ways. Like how he picks all your favourite foods, holds the package up to you to ask for approval and places them into the cart that he’s pushing along with one hand as if it’s not full to the brim.

He’s got it all down even to the most obscure snacks you like. It’s sweet that he remembers and it makes you as dizzy as you felt during your sleepover with Storm. It’s not like you really have a chance with either of them, if you’re being honest with yourself, so you’re fine liking them both.

But it’s his touch that drives you crazy.

You’re trying to reach a snack on the top shelf. You’re on your tiptoes and your fingertips are only an inch or so away from it. Just when you’re about to give up, you feel two strong hands on your waist, lifting you that tiny bit with no effort at all.

“There you go,” Logan smiles down at you, taking the package from you and putting it in the cart. Your body still buzzes with the sparks of his touch.

You’re not very helpful for the rest of the shopping trip. All you’re doing is staring at him. You almost fall to your knees when he reaches up to the top shelf and his shirt lifts a bit. You think seeing even just a tiny sliver of his abs might be the highlight of your day, until you remember how he was pushed up against you during your stretches earlier.

God, you’re so into him.

Storm finds Logan as soon as she gets home. She hasn’t had a chance to talk to him since your revelation yesterday yet.

“She’s in her bedroom,” Logan tells Storm when she comes in, assuming she’s looking for you.

“I need to talk to you,” she crosses her arms, “She told me yesterday that she thinks we’re into each other.”

Logan cringes, “What, us two? Is she blind?”

“Apparently. I told her that it’s not like that but I don’t know if she believed it. She thought we were flirting with each other at lunch the other day instead of with her.”

“Alright, we just need to stop making it so obvious we’re fighting over her. Let’s just not get in each other’s way and she’ll choose whoever she’ll choose.”

“Yeah,” Storm agrees.

Logan smiles, “I can’t believe that stunt you pulled when she spilled the water. I mean, come on, that was so unfair, I can’t just press a napkin to her tits.”

She laughs, “Okay Mister Bicep, we both have our benefits.” They smile at each other.

Storm huffs, and reluctantly admits: “I wish she looked at me the way she looks at your abs.”

“I wish she looked at me the way she looks at your chest.”

They’re standing next to each other now, staring at nothing, consumed by thoughts of you. They’re so into you.

“When did you realise you like her?” Storm asks.

“I don’t remember an exact moment but it’s just, her gorgeous fucking face. And her whole clumsy thing just does it for me, I don’t know.”

“I like it too. She’s so adorable when she gets all awkward.”

“It makes me want to fuck her so bad,” they say at the same time, then laugh quietly.

Logan clears his throat, “Not to be crude but I’d fuck all that nervousness out of her.”

“Me too. Until she’s so exhausted she can’t even begin to overthink anything.”

They exchange a look – this is getting too heated.

“May the best one win,” Logan concludes, and with a last nod at each other, they both leave the kitchen.

It’s a mutual friend’s birthday that week, and all three of you are going to the party.

You’re walking to your room the evening of the party, and Logan opens his bedroom door just as you’re walking past it.

“Hey, you got a minute?” Logan asks, “I need help with my outfit.”

You smile. It’s an excuse to stare at Logan, of course you’ll help.

He changes his shirt about five times – even though there are only two that he can’t decide between. But every time he changes his top, there are a few seconds in which he’s half naked – his muscular, hairy, gorgeous chest and abs exposed, with that thick happy trail reminding you why it’s called that – and you forget all about what the previous shirt looked like.

You watch him change yet another time, quietly sighing to yourself because at some point you have to decide. You watch him button up his shirt and let your eyes roam over the lower part of his body.

His trousers are hugging his legs so deliciously, they must be tailored. And that sexy belt he always wears keeps sparkling with the reflection of the light, as if you’re not staring at his crotch enough anyway.

“So this one?” Logan asks.

“Y-yeah,” you nod, as if he doesn’t look equally good in both shirts anyway.

“What do you think of the material?” He asks. You smile, getting up to feel it.

You place your hand on the side of his arm, trailing down it, feeling his muscles while you pretend to be feeling the shirt.

“I like how it feels,” Logan says, looking down at himself and rubbing his fingers over his clothed chest. You follow, bringing your palm to his collarbone to trace his body, from his chest to his lower abs.

“It does feel nice,” you say. It’s a normal dress shirt, made from whatever material they’re usually made of, but with the warmth of Logan’s body it’s one of the best things you’ve ever felt.

Distracted by his body, you don’t realise Logan looking down at you, tracing your every feature with his eyes. He can practically see the water pooling in your mouth, and he doesn’t need his enhanced senses to know that you want him in this moment.

He clears his throat and it makes you lose your balance, gripping Logan’s shirt to steady yourself as his hands fly to your waist.

“Careful, bub,” he smiles and you feel the heat on your cheeks. How can this man make you stumble without even moving?

“Are you gonna wear a tie?” you ask quietly — you can’t trust your voice right now.

“I’ve got one here,” Logan passes it to you. He feels like a tie might be a bit too formal for a birthday, but he won’t stop you from staying close.

You go on your tiptoes to drape the tie around his neck, nervously fiddling with the fabric. “Actually, uh, I don’t know how to tie a tie,” you admit, giggling at your own words.

“That’s okay, bub, I’ll show you.”

You don’t retain any information as Logan helps you with his tie, guiding your fingers with his big, warm hands over yours.

Your breaths intertwine from standing so close, and you don’t even realise that you’re on your tiptoes again, trying to get as close to Logan as possible.

You know that he can hear how fast your heart is beating, but when his tie is on and you smooth it down against his chest, you feel his own heart beating wildly against his ribcage.

Logan looks into your eyes, a soft smile on his lips, and you know what’s going to happen. You’re about to kiss.

He gently places his hand on the side of your face, leaning in.

Just when your lips are about to touch, you hear Storm calling out your name from the hallway.

“Uh, Storm was gonna do my make-up,” you stutter, Logan’s hand still on your face. He silently drops it and smiles sadly, “yeah,” he says.

He moves back to stand in front of the mirror, taking the tie off again, “Think this is too much.”

You nod, “yeah. Sure. I’ll see you later.”

You walk out of Logan’s room with a weird feeling, but as soon as you get to Storm’s room it’s like nothing just happened.

It smells so good in her bedroom, a mix of her perfume and hair products and her clean bed sheets. She smiles at you, patting the bed for you to sit next to her.

You close the door behind you, creating a space for just the two of you. It always feels like that when you’re with her, even when there are other people around. Except for Logan maybe; he’s the only one who can get in without even trying — but it’s still different when it’s really just the two of you.

You’re immediately lost in the world of beautiful Storm as she presents to you her outfit for the night; it fits her every curve and contour and you briefly wonder how you could ever think of her as nothing more than a friend. It breaks your heart that she only sees you as one, but it doesn’t stop the desire you have for her and the joy you feel when you’re around her.

Storm does your make-up on her bed, both of you sitting cross-legged with your knees touching. Her hand is placed gently on your face as she does your eyeshadow.

“You’re so naturally beautiful,” she tells you in her calm voice, “Don’t really need any of this.”

You feel your heart beating wildly in your chest. She just means it as a friend, she just means it as a friend.

You gulp, “Wish I looked like you. You’re so gorgeous.”

She smiles at you softly, “Thank you, but you’re perfect like this. Lips.” You open your mouth slightly so that she can apply your lipgloss for you. Even though she’s using the applicator, it feels as intimate as if it were her finger.

She called you perfect.

Your eyes go down to her lips and you realise she hasn’t put any product on her own lips yet. You’re not sure what comes over you at your next question.

“You want some too?” you ask, breathless, staring at her lips. Even though you’re not looking into her eyes, you can see her looking down at your lips and she smiles a beautiful, sexy smile and nods.

Storm briefly presses her lips to yours, the way straight girls sometimes do at parties – except that neither of you are straight and you’re not at a party, and you doubt that straight friends feel like this after kissing each other. You pull away instinctively, you don’t want her thinking that you could ever even assume that she likes you like that. You’re just friends, and you know that.

Still, you can’t resist reaching out a finger to swipe the excess product over the top of her lip, and you let out a nervous giggle when you notice that her eyes are still on your lips.

An alarm on your phone interrupts you; you set it for 20 minutes before you have to leave to make sure you have everything. You didn’t notice how close you and Storm were until you both pulled away at the noise.

The alert pulls you out of your Storm induced warm cloud, an uncomfortable feeling settling on your skin. Being the good friend she is, Storm realises immediately.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, a soft hand on your arm.

“Nothing, I just get nervous about these types of parties sometimes. There’ll be so many people I don’t know, and it’ll be so big and loud. I was thinking of taking a shot or something.”

Storm smiles, “Not that I’m against a little shot for courage, but d’you wanna know something natural that always helps me calm down?”

“Mhm, what is it?”

“I feel like a nice orgasm always makes me calmer. Just a quick one with my fingers or a vibrator.”

Her words knock the air out of you. Somehow, you manage to respond. “I’ve always wanted to use toys but I don’t have any. I should really get one,” you chuckle nervously.

“I’m happy to share one of mine if you don’t mind,” she looks deep into your eyes and all you can do is nod your head pathetically. There are some types of thoughts you’ve done your hardest not to let into your head – she’s your friend, she wouldn’t want you thinking about her like that – and now she’s the one putting them there on purpose.

She twists her lips, almost.. nervously? and, in a low voice, says: “You think an orgasm right now would help you?”

Again, you don’t manage to say any words but you do nod your head, biting your lip.

“You wanna do it yourself or can I stay?” she asks, one shoulder pulled up seductively.

“S-stay,” you stutter.

“I could eat you out if you want, but no pressure. I just feel like that’s the quickest way.”

You take a deep breath. All kinds of thoughts are shooting through your head, but maybe she’s just horny. During your sleepover the other day, she told you how she hasn’t had sex in a while, and how she gets off on making her partners come, so maybe it’s just a natural desire that she wants to make someone other than herself come again for once. It’s got nothing to do with you, you know that, but you revel in the knowledge that she at least finds you attractive enough to want to make you come, even if it’s just as a friend.

You’re also confused. Your ex always took hours to make you come with his mouth, but, still, you believe every word coming from Storm’s pretty lips.

You nod, “Ye-yeah. If that’s okay with you. That’s a very uh, very nice, friendly favour.” You have to make sure she knows that you’re not delusional, thinking this is more than friendly.

As you squirm in your seat, you miss Storm’s little sigh of frustration at your oblivion. Instead of pitying herself, she decides she’ll show you why you should be more than friends.

“Y’ready?” she asks, blessing your ears with her bedroom voice.

“Yes,” you breathe.

Your next breath catches in your throat as Storm leans in to press the most gentle kiss you’ve ever experienced to the side of your neck. She’s warm and soft and smells like heaven.

Her lips slowly press along your pulse point, the tip of her tongue darting out as she makes her way up to your ear. Her teeth scrape along your earlobe, but she doesn’t bite. You almost whimper when her warm mouth is gone from your ear.

Storm slides her hand to your jaw, moving her thumb to your lower lip, “May I?”

You nod quickly, and she pulls your lower lip down, sliding her thumb into your mouth to wet it.

You suck on her thumb, mouth watering at having her so close. Storm takes her hand away from your face with a satisfied hum and gently folds your skirt up to your hips, pulling your panties to the side.

She giggles, “y’got such cute underwear.” You look down and remember the panties you decided to put on today – pink underwear with cherries and a red lace trim. You weren’t expecting anyone to see it, let alone Storm. Before you have time to get embarrassed, her thumb is on your clit.

You gasp at the first contact, and your knees buckle. You’re glad you’re already sitting down. She goes to kneel on her soft carpet, sitting down between your legs.

Her breath is on your pussy and you feel yourself clenching around nothing.

“What a pretty fucking pussy,” Storm whispers, more to herself, and impatiently pulls your underwear out of the way more harshly, making sure it stays there. She looks up at you from between your legs, pushing your knees up to your chest, and you bite your lip.

This doesn’t feel so friendly anymore. Unless she just gets off on making her pretty friends come.

Storm sucks her thumb into her mouth to wet it again and begins to gently rub your clit in circles. She realises how wet you already are and smiles, leaning in to press a kiss to your clit.

“There you go,” she says quietly, and then puts her mouth on you. She runs her tongue through your folds and she’s so gentle. You’re torn between enjoying it and wanting more.

“Feels so good,” you mumble, and Storm grips the flesh of your thigh to hold you still.

She smiles against you, “Yeah?” and brings her middle and ring finger to your pussy. Licking your clit, she pushes two fingers into you, slowly making her way inside even though you’re more than wet enough.

Your pussy makes a squelching sound against her fingers as she begins to fuck into you, curling her fingers up to rub against your g-spot. You gasp when you first feel her there, your head dropping to the side in pleasure as you moan.

She pulls her fingers out to suck them into her mouth, tasting you with a satisfied hum, “Taste so good, baby.” You get even wetter at that name alone, squirming beneath her gaze.

“Be a good girl for me and stay still, okay?” she asks, mouth connecting with your pussy again as she looks up at you. You nod desperately, hoping she can’t feel the intense heat spreading over your face down to your chest.

She slides two fingers back into you, fucking you gently but precisely, and you already feel the excitement building up in your belly. Storm’s tongue dances over your clit, exactly how you need it to. The only thing missing now is just a liittle more friction.

It’s like she can read your mind, continuing to fuck into your wet pussy at a steady pace, as she begins to suck on your clit. You see stars immediately.

Her mouth has been on you for only a few minutes when she’s got you coming on her tongue and fingers. You whimper her name as you arch your back, hips chasing her face to prolong your orgasm as it crashes over you in waves.

She pulls her fingers out and rubs your clit for a bit longer until you’re squirming again, patting your pussy before she gets up. “Good”, she simply says, biting her lip.

“You feel better?” she smiles at you, innocently sucking your arousal off her fingers as if it’s something she’s done a million times before. As if it’s a normal thing to do with a friend.

“Yeah, much better,” you smile shyly, wondering how to ask her what that was.

She sits down right next to you, pulling your panties and skirt back in place, keeping her hand on your thigh afterwards. She smiles at you, and it feels so intimate. Storm reaches for the lipgloss again, “It’s all wiped away. Here.”

You smile and let her apply the lipgloss again. Storm places a hand on the bed next to your hip to lean in as she does so. She puts the lipgloss away but stays close. She looks at your lips. Your heart starts beating furiously in your chest – she’s about to kiss you.

This time it’s Logan who interrupts you. He calls out your name from the hallway, it’s time to leave.

Storm sits back, “you ready?”

“Yeah,” you nod. She takes your hand as you leave her room. You don’t let go even when you see Logan, his eyes immediately finding your intertwined hands.

He doesn’t know what it means. There are plenty of platonic girlfriends that hold hands.

You don’t know what it means either, but you know you like the feeling.

You don’t mean to get drunk but that’s kind of what happens when you subconsciously try to keep up with mutants with healing factors that make it almost impossible for them to get drunk.

You arrived at the party still hand-in-hand with Storm and spent the first half joined at the hip with her. Logan couldn’t even get you alone for a second because every time one of you left for the bathroom the other went too without hesitation.

Logan finally finds you alone in the kitchen, looking for another drink.

“Y’sure you should have more to drink?” he smiles.

You notice him then, “Logan!” you run over to hug him.

Being drunk makes you more affectionate.

“Can you mix me a drink?” you ask Logan, his arm still around your waist. It feels good there.

“Maybe you want water for now?”

You pout at him drunkenly, taking a step back and folding your arms, “You’re just jealous you can’t get drunk. Doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to.”

Logan lifts his arms in defence, “��Course you’re allowed to, bub. Just making sure you’re up for it. What do you want?”

You, Logan and Storm end up in the living room at the mansion. You’ve been very entertaining in your drunk state but, more importantly, you decided to hold one of their hands each in your lap in the back of the car on the way home. They know you get like this when you drink, and they’d never try anything with you like this, of course. But they could have a bit of harmless fun.

It’s your idea to play never have I ever, but the two of them are just as happy to. You’re playing the game with water instead of alcohol, but that’s probably better for you anyway.

Storm and Logan resist the urge to make the game sexual; they’re unsure what you’d be comfortable with if you were sober. You’re the one who makes it explicit.

“Never have I ever…” you’re leaning the bottle of water against your cheek to cool yourself down, “had a threesome.”

The room is immediately struck with tension. Logan and Storm exchange a look that you miss. How have they not thought of this before?

You look at them expectantly.

It’s a perfectly innocent statement – well, innocent in a way that you’re not implying anything to them specifically. Even in your wildest thoughts you’ve only fantasised about one of them at a time.

Your eyes are on Storm but she shakes her head. Logan drinks. He shrugs, “Been alive for so long, you try some things.”

You’re torn between arousal and jealousy, but settle on arousal. You forget all about the game.

“I’m not that experienced,” you tell them honestly, “I’d love to experiment a bit but I get shy. Not that I’m– um, not a threesome necessarily. I’m just saying.” You clear your throat, averting your eyes.

“How many people have you been with?” Storm asks, voice soft.

You swallow, unsure whether to count her or not. Does it count if it was with a friend? “Just my ex boyfriend.”

“There’s been no one else?” Logan asks, and you shake your head in embarrassment.

“I told you I’m shy.”

“Nothing wrong with being shy,” he says, “It can be endearing. Don’t you think, Storm?”

When you turn to her, her eyes are already on you, “I agree.”

Your face feels hot and you’re suddenly nervous. They’re both flirting with you, if the alcohol isn’t deceiving you, and you don’t know who you like more. You think of some stupid ‘never have I ever’ statement to change the topic. They do you the favour of playing along.

It’s not long until you all go to bed, going your separate ways but not without a long hug from both of them.

The next morning, Logan and Storm meet in front of your room. She’s made breakfast for you and he’s brought you water and some aspirin.

“I should have thought of that,” they say at the same time. Logan knocks at your door.

“It’s us,” Storm says after another knock.

You’re not in your bedroom.

They look for you in the entire mansion, but you’re not there.

“Maybe she’s walking off her hangover,” Logan shrugs, starting to eat the food Storm made for you as they’re standing in the kitchen.

They don’t see you all day.

Storm’s in the kitchen in the evening, starting to worry. She knows you’re not far, and you can handle yourself, but she’s worried you’re embarrassed about what you said when you were drunk, or regretting what you did before the party yesterday.

There are footsteps coming down the hallway, and she knows it’s you before you’re there.

“Hey,” she smiles when she sees you.

“Hi.”

“Haven’t seen you all day.”

“Sorry,” you sit down next to her, a shy smile on your face, “Didn’t mean to disappear. I just needed to think.”

Storm breathes. “Yeah, that’s okay. What were you thinking about?” Her heart starts beating faster.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about what Logan said yesterday. And I don’t know if I’m misinterpreting things and I don’t want to make anything awkward between us or anything…” you look at her in worry, and she takes your hand. She’s not sure what you mean but she knows you need her encouragement to say it.

You continue, “I don’t know but maybe… maybe Logan could show us what a threesome is like?”

All the worry on your face melts away when Storm grips your hand tighter and gets up. She grins as she pulls you upstairs.

She walks you to Logan’s room and, without knocking, pushes his door open, “My bedroom. Right now.” He follows you without question.

“Lock the door behind you,” Storm tells Logan when you’re all in her bedroom. Your skin is on fire.

“Whats’s going on?” Logan has his arms folded, a smile playing on his lips.

His eyes are on you but you look over at Storm, who just smirks.

“Are you gonna make me say it again?” you ask, horrified.

“You got this, baby,” she tells you, and hearing her call you that again gives you courage.

You look at the floor, “Uh, I don’t know if you two want to do that with me but. I was thinking maybe we could, like, have, um, a threesome?” You were a lot smoother in your head.

Logan raises his eyebrows, “You don’t know if we want to do that with you? You tellin’ me you haven’t noticed what’s been goin’ on, bub?” He’s right in front of you now, hands holding your face.

“Uh…” you know he can feel your skin heating up under his fingers.

“Want you so fucking bad. Both of us,” Logan nods towards Storm.

“Oh.”

(Logan decides this isn’t the time to tell you that his threesome was with two guys.)

They both grin at each other and Logan walks you to Storm’s bed. They sit down on either side of you – you don’t even know where to look. You don’t know who to kiss first.

Storm makes the decision for you, gently turning your head towards her. You lean in without another word.

This time you get more than a peck. Her mouth is hungry and wet against yours, her lips soft. You’re kissing messily and loudly, and you do your best not getting on top of her yet. You pull away only because Logan’s there too.

“Been dying to do that since last night,” you smile.

“I know,” Storm giggles, “Knew you appreciated my friendly favour.” You hide your face in her neck at her teasing. You’re not sure how you could be so stupid. Now you know it’s more than friendship.

“What’s that?” Logan asks, an eyebrow raised.

You bite your lip, “We’ll tell you later.”

Before he can question it, you pull Logan closer by his shirt. His kisses are rougher, but not in a bad way. His beard scratches against your cheek with the desperation in his kisses, and he’s pulling you closer. You moan into his mouth as his tongue slips between your lips, and you grab a fistful of his shirt.

Storm starts kissing the side of your neck, the way she did last night, and you’re so lost in pleasure that you stop kissing Logan.

“Too hot,” you mumble, pulling off your top absentmindedly. They both stop what they’re doing.

“You wear stuff like this all the time?” Logan smirks, finger slipping under your bra strap. You forgot about the lingerie you put on for them.

You shake your head, “Thought we might do this tonight.”

Logan grins and starts kissing your shoulder, pulling one of your bra straps down with his teeth. Storm turns your head back to her and kisses you again – gentle, teasing pecks from her soft lips to yours. She kisses over your cheek and your jaw, begins to gently nibble on your earlobe.

Logan pauses when his mouth is at your wrist, “You know, bub, the problem with pretty lingerie like this is that it ends up coming off again real quick.”

You’re already so horny from two pairs of lips on you that you can barely speak. “Doesn’t sound like a problem to me at all,” you mumble.

“Can we take it off, baby?” Storm asks.

“Please.”

You feel Storm’s fingers at your back, opening your bra, and Logan is the one who pulls it off.

They both sigh when they see your tits for the first time, moving to the breast closest to them. Logan thumbs over your nipple, gently playing with it while Storm wraps her lips around your other nipple. You feel yourself getting so wet.

“H-how about—” you take a deep breath to calm yourself down, “how about you take your clothes off too.”

“How about you take them off?” Storm bites her lip.

You nod quickly, lifting her top over her head to find her bare underneath. You trace your hands over her perfect tits, cupping them as your thumbs rub over her nipples and she lets out the sweetest moan.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Logan moving to take off his shirt so you quickly turn to him, grabbing hold of his shirt to do it yourself while Storm stands up to take off her trousers.

You pull off Logan’s shirt and, even though you’ve seen him shirtless before, you’re mesmerised by the muscles and the hair and how good he looks.

“Y’like what you see, bub?” He smirks and you bite your lip, resisting kissing him. You move on to his belt, trying to ignore how Logan gropes your tits as you get him naked except for his boxers.

Storm sits between your legs, helping you out of your trousers and you all move to the middle of the bed. You’re panting before anything has even started, “Sorry, it’s just cause I’m excited,” you breathe, grinning with anticipation.

“It’s okay,” Storm kisses you behind your ear.

“So are we, bub,” Logan tells you, moving to press his lips to the side of your neck. He kisses further up, to your jaw, while Storm’s lips ghost over your collarbone on your other side.

Excitement builds up in your belly, your skin tingling all over. You kiss whoever is closer to you – it’s Logan – and start making out with him. The only way to accurately describe the kiss is to say that it’s sloppy. Logan’s devouring you, licking your lips and into your mouth.

You carefully feel for Storm’s face and don’t stop kissing Logan until she’s right next to you too so you can kiss her instead. She puts a hand behind your neck to pull you in, and you lean your hand on Logan’s leg to steady yourself.

When your hand moves just an inch, you feel how hard he is, and how big. You force yourself to pull away from Storm, your lips already kissed raw.

Logan’s thigh tenses under your hand, “How are we gonna do this?”

“Don’t know, just wanna cum,” you say. You don’t want to seem petulant, but you’ve never been this turned on in your life. Your underwear is soaked through and it almost hurts how badly you need to be fucked right now.

“We got you, baby,” Logan says, “Can I take these off?” He starts to pull at the waistband of your panties where they hug your hip, and you nod quickly.

Storm gets up to walk to her nightstand, but you can’t focus on her too. Your mind is on Logan all but ripping your panties down your legs, discarding them somewhere on the carpet.

He takes your knees to push your thighs up to your chest as you lie down, your head supported by a pillow.

“God, look at you. So fucking pretty. Look at her, Storm,” Logan says, spreading you open for him to take all of you in.

Storm smirks at Logan, “I know.”

You feel Logan’s eyes going between you and her, but she’s leaning down to kiss you so all of your senses are taken over by her.

“Got this just for you, baby,” Storm stops kissing you, pulling something out of the drawer of her nightstand. She’s holding a pink, soft silk bag, “Had a feeling you might want to play.” She pulls out a pink dildo, and you bite your lip as she kisses you again.

Logan asks you something twice before you register what he’s saying, lightly squeezing your ankle to get your attention.

“Huh?” you pull away from the kiss.

“Can I eat your pussy?”

You nod, “But I want you inside me.”

Logan smiles, “Alright, just let me get a taste first. Been dying to know how you taste.”

Storm lies down next to you on her stomach to kiss you some more. Her lips trail over your shoulders and move up to your neck.

Logan bends down so his face is between your legs, and he shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re so wet already, bub. So fucking pretty,” he smiles, moving to lick all the way up your pussy once.

“Here,” he pulls your legs over his shoulders as he settles between them. He pushes two of his thick fingers into your pussy and puts his mouth on you. His tongue on you is fast and skilled, but you still need more.

“‘S not enough,” you whine, and Logan looks up, smiling.

“Need me inside?” he asks, wiping his mouth that’s smeared with you with the back of his hand. You nod, staring in awe as he finally takes off his boxers and you get to see his hard cock in all its glory.

“Y’gonna be okay, bub? It’s kinda big,” he teases. You can see that. But all you can do is keep staring with an open mouth and nod. Storm wipes some spit from the corner of your mouth and gives you a quick kiss.

“You got this, baby,” she tells you, cupping one of your tits while she strokes over your hair with her other hand.

“Yeah,” you say, eyes not leaving Logan’s cock.

“You ready?” he asks, bending down to give you a long, wet kiss.

“Mhmm, need it so bad.”

He chuckles as he spreads your legs for him again, rubbing the tip of his cock along your pussy. It’s so wet you can hear it.

Logan slowly pushes inside you, and you gasp when he fills you up. He’s big, but the pleasure outweighs the pain.

“Theeere you go, bub. So fucking tight f’me. Taking me so well,” he starts to thrust into you in a gentle rhythm, fucking you deep but pacing himself.

It takes you a few moments to get used to his size, but Storm’s kisses at your neck help you ease into it. You can’t believe this is happening – you never would have thought you’d be with either of them, especially not with both and at the same time.

“Feels so good,” you moan weakly, pulling Storm to kiss you again. You whine when she lets go, but she’s sitting up at your side again soon, holding the dildo. You nod before she’s even said anything.

“Let me,” she leans over to Logan, who pulls out of you. Storm fucks your pussy with the cool silicone for just a moment, and it’s wet with your arousal when she brings it up to your chest.

She teases you first, rubbing the wet tip of the dildo over your nipples, trailing it up your chest and over your cheek, smearing your own arousal over your face. You bite your lip in frustration, and look down to see Logan jerking off to the sight of you spread out for him. You can’t decide who of them you need more.

You’re salivating just at the thought of Storm fucking your mouth with the toy, and you hum when she rubs it across your lips.

“Close your mouth, baby,” Storm says when you’re about to take it in your mouth. She leans over you and lets her spit drop onto your mouth, smiling as she trails the tip of the dildo around your mouth, your lips desperately parting for it.

“Here, baby,” she says finally, pushing the dildo past your lips. You moan around it, taking the silicone as deep as you can.

Storm fucks your mouth with it and all it’s doing is making you even more horny. The sound of Logan’s slicked hand on his cock stops, and he’s grabbing your thighs to spread them more, finally fucking you again. This time his pace is rougher, and it’s exactly what you need.

Storm’s wet lips are on your jaw as she continues to push the toy in and out of your mouth as you suck on it eagerly. She bites her lip as she leans over you to watch you, pushing the dildo in just a bit more.

“Doing such a good job, baby,” she hums, holding your chin.

“Yeah, being such a good girl for us,” Logan rasps, voice hoarse as he fucks you, “Look so fucking sexy with your lips wrapped around a cock.” You know he can feel your pussy clench around him at his words and he smirks, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

As you focus back on the cock in your mouth, you notice that Storm’s free hand is down her panties, and you can see her getting worked up too, a bead of sweat rolling down the valley of her tits.

You hum around the dildo and she pulls it out. “Wanna eat your pussy,” you tell her, voice almost whiny.

She smiles, sitting up to pull down her underwear. You reach out to touch the flesh of her thigh, and all you want to do is taste her.

You get up, disregarding how Logan slips out of you as you turn around to get on all fours. Storm sits down in front of you, leaning against the headboard.

“I’ve never done this,” you tell her, leaning down with your ass in the air. Logan positions your hips so he can rub the tip of his cock through your folds, and you take a moment to close your eyes and focus back on Storm.

“That’s okay, baby,” she tells you, “I know you’ll do well.”

You nod eagerly as you spread her legs, leaning in to press a kiss to her clit. You’re addicted as soon as you taste her. You open your mouth wider to lick up all of her that you can, attaching your mouth to Storm’s pussy like you never want to let go.

Her hand goes to the top of your head, careful not to mess up your hair as she spreads her knees wider to accommodate you between them.

You lick at Storm’s clit, tongue trailing down to taste her some more. You revel in the sounds she makes when you start to make out with her pussy, all but putting your face in it.

It’s then that Logan begins to fuck you again, pushing his dick all the way inside your wet pussy. He’s rocking into you so much that it makes your whole body move forwards and backwards with his thrusts, and you can barely focus on Storm’s pussy.

“Sorry, bub”, Logan says from behind you when he notices that you’ve stopped, but you can hear from his voice that he’s not sorry at all. You and Storm smile at each other as you grip her thigh to hold yourself in place and go down on her again.

You get the hang of eating pussy quickly, paying attention to the sounds Storm makes and what makes her knees tremble around your head.

She comes against your lips when you suck her clit into your mouth. Her hand is at the back of your head, hips chasing your face as you play with her clit through her orgasm.

Being between Storm’s thighs as she comes ignites a fire in your core, and Logan’s fucking you so good, getting messy from how close he is.

You push yourself up on your arms to kiss Storm, smearing her wetness over her lips as you make out. She has to hold your face so that you don’t move too much with Logan’s thrusts, but you’re too weak to keep kissing her as you get closer to your orgasm.

“You close, bub? Gonna cum inside you,” Logan grunts from behind you.

“Mhmm, don’t stop, please.”

“I got you, baby, I got you. Doin’ so well,” he grabs your hips to fuck you even deeper as you arch your back. He hits that sweet spot inside you, and one of his hands sneaks down over your belly to rub your clit.

Even though you can hear him starting to lose his breath, trying hard not to come yet, he plays with your clit in a way that’s perfect, and your orgasm has you biting back your moans because you’re scared of how loud they’d be.

Logan blows his load in you before you’re done coming, and it prolongs your own orgasm as he fills you with his cum, somehow even deeper inside you than he was before.

You almost collapse when he’s done with you, smiling as you roll over to lie on your back.

Storm lies down next to you and kisses you while Logan gets the bottle of water from her nightstand. She drinks a sip first and then passes it to you.

Logan chugs the rest of the water when you’re done, his adam’s apple bobbing as a drop of sweat slides down his neck. You follow it all the way over his glistening abs and down into his happy trail. You notice then that he’s hard again – or still hard – and you’ve finally got the answer to that question you’ve spent nights thinking about, wondering if his healing factor also applies to his sex drive.

“You want more, bub?” Logan asks as Storm starts kissing your neck in that way she knows how to do so well.

You nod as you sit up, Storm getting the dildo as she gets behind you, Logan sitting in front of you.

“Can I fuck you, baby?” Storm asks, hand trailing down the back of your spine and over your ass as you get on all fours again.

“Yeah,” you tell her, looking back at her with a smile, a new desire forming deep in you.

You get between Logan’s legs, leaning in to kiss him again. Every time his mouth is on you, it feels like he’s devouring you, and it’s one of the best feelings you’ve ever had. He’s all tongue and teeth.

“Can I suck your cock?” you ask against his lips, your mouth squished up with his hand grabbing your face.

“Been waiting for this since I saw you for the first time, bub. Don’t know if I’ll last long.” You never thought you’d hear Logan of all people say those words, but it turns you on that you could reduce even a man like Logan to nothing but his most primal needs.

You grin as you wetly kiss down his chest, arching your back so your ass is in the air for Storm.

“So pretty,” she mumbles, lost in her own world as she runs the tip of the dildo through your folds, and you almost lose balance.

Logan’s cock leans against the side of your face as you kiss all the way down to his happy trail, and without further thought, you take him into your mouth. You can still taste a bit of yourself on him.

Storm starts fucking you with the dildo just as you’re getting into going down on Logan, and you pull your mouth off his cock. Somehow the dildo feels bigger in your pussy than it did with your mouth. Storm knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Didn’t realise how big it was,” you say, steadying your hands against Logan’s big thighs as you fuck back against the toy.

“Not bigger than me, bub” Logan grumbles, and you giggle.

“We know, big boy. It’s not a competition,” Storm tells him, and even though you can’t see their faces you know this just became a competition for them. And you really don’t mind the two people you have a crush on competing on who can make you come more often.

“Can I play with your ass, baby?” Storm asks you when you’ve adjusted to the toy in you and you’re back to trying to stuff all of Logan’s cock in your mouth. You moan around his dick.

“What was that, princess?” it’s Logan who asks.

“Yeah, you can,” you turn to face Storm, “But I’ve never done that before.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be gentle. Logan, can you pass me the lube from over there?” Logan ignores her – it’s not on purpose, but you’ve gone back to putting your wet mouth on him and you’re sucking his cock, and it’s hard to focus on anything but your wet mouth.

You pull away and look up at Logan, and he passes the lube after seeing the pretty smile you give him.

“Fuck, bub, so fucking gorgeous,” he says, bringing your face up to his to give you a kiss and then getting up to sit next to Storm.

“Just relax for us, baby,” Storm says, and you’ll never get tired of hearing her call you that.

Logan rubs a hand across your ass cheek, kneading your flesh. He finds his discarded shirt at the edge of the bed, wiping down your inner thighs that are dripping with his cum to try and stop Storm’s sheets from getting too messy.

He runs his hand softly up your spine as Storm squeezes drops of lube onto your ass. Logan’s hand goes back down, settling between your legs to gently play with your clit, not to make you cum but to relax you.

“So pretty,” Storm says absentmindedly as she rubs her thumb over your tight hole.

“Can you come over here?” you ask Logan, feeling weird with both of them at your back. You like having one at each side.

“I’m here, bub,” he sits down in front of you again, lifting your head to rest your cheek on his meaty thigh instead. He gently runs the back of his hand over your other cheek as you sink down into the bed with your upper body.

Storm gently pushes the tip of her finger into your ass, “That feel okay?”

“Feels good,” you hum, letting her go deeper as she simultaneously starts to fuck your pussy with the dildo.

“Such a good girl, hmm?” Logan coos from above you and you sigh in pleasure.

“Doing so well,” Storm tells you, thumb hooked in your ass as she begins to fuck your pussy more roughly. You instinctively start fucking back, your hips moving on their own as you get up on all fours again.

Logan’s biting his lip as he watches you take Storm, hand reaching down to jerk off again, but you shove his hand away. “I wanna,” you pout, wrapping your hand around him.

“‘M not stopping you,” he tells you, sitting back as you make him feel good with your hand.

“I’m close,” you say, suddenly feeling the pleasant pressure between your thighs, looking back at Storm who smirks at your words.

She fucks into you more roughly, the added stimulation by your ass making you tip over the edge. You let go of Logan and grab his thigh to keep your balance as your orgasm flows through you, even better than the previous one.

She pulls out of you slowly, rubbing a hand over your ass cheek.

“Wanna make you cum again,” you turn to Storm.

“Later, baby, come sit on my face,” she says, and how are you meant to resist that?

She lies down on the bed and you straddle her, careful to balance your weight out on your knees rather than on her, “you sure?”

“C’mere,” she says, pulling you down onto her face, and you’re lost in the pleasure of her tongue on your clit for a few moments before you can even open your eyes again. You take Logan by his wrist and make him stand up in front of you so you can keep sucking his cock.

You suck on Logan’s dick as eagerly as Storm’s tongue is on your pussy, spit running down to his balls like it’s running down the side of Storm’s mouth. You hover over her to let her breathe but she pulls you back down.

“Don’t worry about me, I can handle you.”

She sucks on your clit with a new intensity, and you forget all about Logan’s cock as it slips out of your mouth and slides wetly across your cheek. You clumsily stick out your tongue, and Logan chuckles, “So fucked out already, hm?” He jerks off in front of your face, holding you in place. He begins to fuck against the inside of your cheek, filling your mouth with his cock.

You hum, not really listening but simply taking his cock in your mouth as the pleasure builds up inside you when Storm pushes her tongue into you. Her hands are on your ass and she sucks on your clit harder.

Your back arches as you suddenly cum again, cheeks hollowing around Logan’s cock in the process as you suck him in deeper. Storm plays with your clit for a few more moments, lifting you to roll to the side, and your knees sink into the mattress.

“Such a good girl. Y’gonna make me cum again?” Logan says from above, and you look at him with puppy eyes as you take as much of him as you can.

“Been doin’ such a good job all night, baby. You can take him deeper,” Storm says, watching you. You’re going down on Logan but you want her praise too, so you take as much as you can of Logan under both their gazes.

“Fuuuck, baby” Logan groans, his cum spilling down your throat as you swallow him eagerly and he fucks your mouth until he’s finished, the wet sound of his cock in your mouth echoing through the room.

When he’s done coming, Logan lifts you to kiss him, and you know you still taste like him. Storm is on your other side, and you turn to kiss her, both their hands on you as you keep kissing.

You’ve lost count of how many orgasms you’ve each had by the time you collapse in a tired heap of sweat and lust and endorphins.

You’re sandwiched between them, your pussy feeling as warm as your heart.

“Not that it’s a competition but I think I made her come more times than you did,” Logan tells Storm over you.

She props herself up on one elbow, smirking at you, “You wanna tell him?”

You shake your head shyly, looking over to smile at Logan. You’re close to falling asleep, only half registering what they’re saying anyway.

“Helped our beautiful girl calm down before the party last night. Tasted better than the birthday cake.”

Logan smiles, “Can’t even be mad at you, I would’ve done the same.”

They notice you drifting off, pressing gentle kisses to your lips one after the other. You feel Storm’s hand on your face.

“Look how gorgeous our girl is,” Logan says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. Those are the last words you hear before you fall asleep.

Our girl. You like it.

P.S. reblog to get a kiss from Logan and let me know your fav moment/line/whatever to get an even sloppier kiss from Storm 😳🤭 (no but seriously skhksjhg😭, I appreciate every single reblog and comment a lotttt, even if they’re just short <333)

#Logan Howlett x reader #storm x reader #ororo munroe x reader #Logan Howlett x reader x storm #Logan Howlett smut #wolverine x reader x storm #wolverine smut #storm x men smut #x men storm smut #Logan Howlett x you #ororo munroe x you #help these tags are killing me idk what to write lol #wolverine x you #fem!reader #selfcarecap

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aquasoftware · 11 days ago

Text

But I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo…☆ ◝

Snippet | “Press up a little… Okay um… try curling your finger—like, hook it up.”

꒰ Desc | Stressed after work? No problem ➜ until your favorite comfort item goes missing, and luckily your socially awkward roommate has a solution that leaves you unraveling in more ways than one.

꒰ CW | MDNI 18+ ꒱ Smútノangst, implied inexperienced! Choso, avoidant attachment! Reader, scént k⋆nk, pra⋆sé, m!ld bėgg!ng, s⋆zé k⋆nk, dry húmpúíng, spít, góóner! Choso, bràtty(ish)! Reader, ń⋆ppIe pIay, scént k⋆ńk, s⋆ze k⋆ńk, p⋆ssess!vé behavior, hint of geek! Choso, multiple big o’s, petnames, tèás!ng, b⋆dy w⋆rship, delayed O, squ⋆rt⋆ngノcr⋆⋆m⋆ng, óvèrst⋆múlat⋆ón, f⋆⋆t wórsh!p, túmmy búIge, yearner! Choso, ˖ aftercare.

꒰ FT | Fem!Reader X Roommate!Choso K. ꒱

WC ➜ 11K ➜ ML | A/N : Inspired by radiohead

You were absolutely doomed.

Around six-forty p.m was the time you usually arrived at your shared apartment, well after you stopped by for fast food to stuff your belly full—deserved especially since your shift worked you down to the bone. Then you’d hang your keys on the rack, strip out of your uniform in the bathroom, shower, and finally masturbate in your bedroom.

But that was the problem...

Your vibrator was nowhere to be seen, you literally searched everywhere.

Crawling on the floor with tattered breath as if you’d just watched a horror movie, digging through your cluttered closet, ripping apart the designer shoebox without a care, biting your lip as you forcefully pulled out every last drawer in your dresser, you even looked underneath your bed—which you decided it needed some tidying up later—at least after you fixed the bigger issue.

Tears nearly threatened to escape the corners of your eye, in complete distress at this situation.

It wasn’t like you were trying to be dramatic, but each rude client was worth at least eight orgasms or even double that, hell you’d try and go all night if you didn’t have better things to do.

Sighing before making your next move, it was best to hit your last resort—asking your roommate if he’s seen your vibrator.

Of course you’d feel a little embarrassed, what’s the worst that could happen though? At most he’d give you a puzzled look and say no, still you were desperate, so it was worth a shot.

What you didn’t know about Choso was that he’s a bit of a gooner.

Whenever your friends visited you and they saw him they’d either :

A. Fangirl over your roommate gushing how hot quiet tall men are, and twirl their hair (apparently) flirting saying how they like their men “tatted up like a chipotle bag.”

B. Secretly whisper about how weird he looks—off-put by his broody energy and unapproachable face.

It only made you confused, because this was someone you’d defend with your life over someone calling him weird, but you never noticed at night how he groaned as he slowly stroked his cock to women that could possibly be your doppelgänger on twitter.

Thrusting up into his fist with a dying need when he’d watch hentai and the women would make the ahegao face, because he could only dream of making you roll your eyes back like that while you loll your tongue out.

Softly crying out your name as he rammed into his fleshlight like it was your pretty pussy, that he accidentally got flashed by once.

Choso couldn’t help himself, dirty talking to it—pretending it was the real thing. He’d whimper “Fuck, fuck, fuck, you like how I pound you Y/n?” Hearing your mewls through the walls with his keen ear only made it worse.

Which is exactly why while you were gone he hid your vibrator so discreetly he even forgot where he put it, he only hoped and prayed you’d have no other choice, but to come to him.

Oddly enough Choso was slightly shocked his little plan worked so easily.

When you gently knocked on his door, some rustling could be heard like he was trying to hide a few objects before opening it.

At last the door squeaked as it pried open, revealing his taller stature.

His eyes were baggy like if he got any sleep he’d start breaking out in hives, his ears decorated in piercings as if it were art on a canvas—his short shirt had shown off his tatted sleeve that drove women crazy.

“Do you need something?” Choso asked, leaning against the door frame, tying the drawstrings on his Star Wars pajamas with a dull look, although mentally his head was crowded with tiny people cheering for him.

“Yeah,” you took a long deep breath, answering.

Fiddling with the hem of your silky pink nightgown, you practically stalled for what you were about to ask.

“I was just wondering,” you muttered, trailing off.

Hiding your sweaty hands behind your back, you tried speaking again “actually don’t judge before I say it.” You dodged eye contact, making your eyes busy in his suddenly plain room that looked as if some collectables, or posters were missing.

“Did she notice anything? Quick, Quick! act normal Choso.” He panicked, his thoughts scolded him so loud he swore you might’ve heard them.

If he had two choices to let someone see his unholy room smothered in erotic figures, or those anime posters he claimed to watch for the ‘plot’—he’d let that someone be a god before you.

Dipping his hands in his pockets, he leaned closer into your space with warm inviting cocoa-tinted eyes, brushing his bangs out of his face.

“I won’t, promise.” He calmly reassured you.

“Have you possiblyyy,” you sing-songed, already regretting your life choices “perhaps seen my vibrator?”

For a moment, Choso had an unreadable look displayed on his face, then he raised an eyebrow, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“No?” He had to be honest with himself, shame simmered in his stomach as a lie trudged out, he hated making you feel a little crazy over this, but this was his only chance to feel the touch of a woman.

“Why would I see that?” Choso folded his arms, his eyes raked across your figure. Gradually losing his composure due to your fresh scent—the honey body wash with hints of vanilla perfume was begging him to rip your clothes apart so badly that he had to repeat to himself “Hold it together Choso.”

“Ah. You’re right, I just thought,” you poked your lips out, adjusting your bonnet to distract you from the incoming bomb of embarrassment.

Usually since you often misplaced your keys you’d often ask Choso if he’d seen them and he’d find them for you, which is why asking him this made at least a little sense.

“Nevermind.” You turned on your heel, preparing to use your fingers instead, (knowing you’d sob yourself to sleep after).

Your roommate didn’t allow you to leave just yet though, grabbing your wrist.“Wait, unless you, uh… wouldn’t mind me helping you.”

You paused like the entire world disintegrated, stepping back in shock.

“Helping me?” You tilted your head, on the verge of mentioning what if it changes things–not wanting anything to be tricky after, but at this point you couldn’t care anymore, you just wanted at most—one orgasm tonight.

“Yeah, I mean that’s only if you want,” he began scratching his head, abruptly leaving the “cool” act behind “You could even imagine someone else if–”

But before Choso could drown himself in a pool of awkwardness, you yanked him by his hand dragging him into his room like you owned it.

“Say no more!” You declared like you were at a restaurant and your roommate was the only thing on the menu.

He gasped, appalled like he didn’t construct this entire plan. Your smaller figure somehow managing to rule his taller frame.

He wasn’t expecting you to actually give in, so what now?

Choso never had a pretty woman this close, well, one he actually had an undeniable desire for.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he fidgeted with his fingers, nearly sweating for what was about to come.

“C’mon get closer, you don’t gotta be shy now!” You purred as you bat your luscious lashes, scooting towards him.

His hand was glued on top of yours, lifting for a second like he wanted to make a move—do anything, but he never thought he’d get this far.

Your fingertips grazed his skin as you tilted his chin upward with a featherlight touch, guiding his gaze to meet yours.

Your breaths mingled for a moment, dancing in the closed space.

Tracing a path of soft, fluttering kisses along the rim of his sharp jawline, you savored the heat radiating from his skin and the way he subtly leaned into your touch.

Your lips ghosted over the spot in front of his mouth, as if you were edging yourself with tasting him.

His heartbeat was comparable to an earthquake, booming loudly in anticipation. He felt the entire four years of living with you flash before his eyes, as if this was hard work that paid off, and he could finally die complete.

Then, without warning, your mouth claimed his—almost like you were marking your territory in spite of other women crushing over him.

It was dramatic the way your lips crashed against his repeatedly, suckling on his bottom lip like you were ravenous.

Your lips were melded into each other as if neither of you could get enough of this. His hand cupped your cheek like this was something bound to happen—practically screaming you were made to kiss only him.

He gently smiled into your plush lips remembering a few of the guys you used to bring over—now it was at last his turn after hearing how your pussy squelched through the walls.

Years of being on the side due to your toys or other men and he finally had a chance—he felt a rush of dedication to prove he was better, an urge to outdo everything that you scurried to during ovulation.

With one swift motion Choso picked you up, both hands cradling your hips and sitting you on his lap, forcing a gasp out of your throat.

“Didn’t know you had it in you like that.” You blurted, swearing if this were a show a saxophone would theatrically play in the background.

It was a known fact Choso was strong, but picking you up so fast you barely even noticed had you feeling like a love spell was casted on your heart, suddenly hearing it roar in your chest.

“I… Uh–” He started off, but his mind became scrambled, intoxicated with how close you were.

Your honey vanilla scent could’ve made him cum on the spot if he didn’t have enough self-control, except he reminded himself this was his only chance–he refused to fuck up.

It was too late though, because he immediately began to buck his hips up like a bull, causing your arms to wrap around his neck instinctively.

He never knew what it was like for a woman to sit on his lap before, he couldn’t help himself–the way your cunt throbbed all over his bulge it only enticed him even more.

“Fuck, I can’t believe this is real…” swirled around in his mind in disbelief, a fantasy he told himself would never be real achieved to bloom into life.

Choso’s angry veins were practically cursing you for how good your slick panties felt on top of him.

His cock felt like stone, already frustrated from the thin fabric separating the two of you.

“God, you’re so fucking hard,” you bursted into giggles, continuing to roll your hips “guess I’m not the only one… this pent up huh?” You teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Mhmm.” He mumbled, eyes barely open as he nuzzled his head into your shoulder, fitting like a perfect puzzle piece.

His focus was as good as a drunk person. Every shift of your hips became the only thing that mattered.

He bit back noises like if he let them slip, he’d no longer impress you, but it was as if you knew he was holding back—switching to a faster rhythm, placing kisses on his neck then sucking harshly at the tender skin, sure to leave a dark purple bruise.

He finally let go, ecstasy ascending in his bones, whimpering like a man obsessed—someone who’d merge souls with you if it were possible.

Choso’s body chased yours as if were a reflex, his mind morphed into complete fuzziness it was like he was on autopilot, but there was only one thing—he didn’t know what to do with his hands, maybe stealing your vibrator was a little odd, but he still wanted to remain respectful.

His hands moved lower down your back, fingers drawing circles on your nightgown, but halted like he wanted to go further and couldn’t.

“You wanna touch me?” You whispered, lips brushing his pink tinted ears, sending shivers throughout his body “It’s okay, go ahead.”

“You sure?” He brought his face from your shoulder for a moment, pressing his forehead against yours, the tips of your nose basically engaged to each other.

You nodded, reaching for his hands, dragging them down slowly to your ass. He quickly grabbed a huge handful, like it would escape from him.

“Fuck, you’re so soft.”

He groaned, feeling a surge of something primal brewing throughout him, his fingertips screwed harder into the supple fat of your ass damn near branding you.

You were driving him wild without even doing much but looking pretty while grinding on him.

The weight of you in his lap was insane—his mind shuffled with “please let this be more than once, I’ll do anything to have her again.”

Choso brutally bit the inside of his cheek, making sure this wasn’t a dream, if he woke up any minute he’d definitely take his anger out on one of his poor body pillows.

The fact that you came to him, agreeing with his idea to help you even if you could’ve just used your fingers, or just asked him to help you search for it meant everything to him—he never felt this needed in his life.

He was breathless at the touch starved friction, your moans swimming in his ear, how you gently clawed at his back, your captivating scent, was all too much for him.

“Feels so good.” Became the only thing he could spew out, veins bolting as he gripped you tighter, bringing you closer as his clothed cock rubbed on your pulsing clit.

You sighed entirely dazed, the air around you two growing thick and humid. You had your arms wrapped around his marked neck like you wanted to trap him in a web to keep him there forever.

Unfortunately, nobody’s touched you in what felt like decades; to some abstinence for only two years sounded weak, just about anyone could go without dick for two years right?

Absolutely not, at least for you, these past years were hell, it was so horrible you considered calling your ex-situationship to satisfy your needs.

Which was why you rutted into his pelvis like an animal in heat, your body acted as if it were irritated he didn’t ask to help you sooner.

Your panties became a slip n’ slide, every single one of his needy whimpers sprinting straight to your puffy clit—Choso’s wet kisses relishing in your neck had your nipples shamefully pebbling in your nightgown.

Somehow your hips even picked up speed on its own rocking into his tented pajama pants, you wouldn’t be surprised anymore at other decisions it could make.

There was no way you were this turned on by a little bit of humping, right? You mentally reprimanded yourself.

It was almost like you were a virgin again with no sense around a man, pure lust cascading your body.

Your breath was disappearing from you like a ghost, unable to handle your roommate’s wispy moans striking your ear, sounding as if he was on the verge of coming–all you could feel was the splotch of pre-cum leaking from the middle of his pants.

Your fingers ditched his neck to tangle into his raven tufts hoping it’d help stabilize yourself from the inescapable coil building in your tummy.

Not even the blasting fan nearby could cool the large sums of sweat off your bodies—convinced you were soul tied at this rate by how in sync you moved together.

Every hungry grind lined up perfectly with his bulge that continuously attacked your bundle of nerves sticking to the seam of your panties.

He held you so close you could feel his abs flexing as he gripped you tighter, the possessive touch causing you to clench around utterly nothing.

“Choso,” your mouth let out a choked sob, nails indenting itself into his shirt “Shit, I’m… close…” you gasped desperately in between breaths.

Your thighs began to shudder around his waist, drunk off the sheer intensity of him thrusting up into you.

Arrays worth of fireworks launched in your head, dizzy on the fact that you’d possibly get your first orgasm of the night after a long shift.

“Yeah? Haah, mmggffh me too…” He whimpered, placing a kiss on top of your head, but unfortunately he had a sudden change of plans—slowing down his movements while shifting his body just to lay you on the bed facing him against the plethora of fluffy pillows.

“Wait, nooo why’d you stop?”

You whined, heart humming like a drum—your pussy clamping around nothing, begging for anything to get relief.

“Because if I kept going I was gonna cum in my pants like some filthy loser.” Choso rasped, wetting his lips—dark brown eyes secured on your figure as if you stepped out of his favorite doujinshi.

You playfully smirked as you gave a pointed look to the sticky grey patch on his pajama pants. It might’ve only been pre-cum, though replaying how breathless he sounded, he definitely sounded like the filthy loser in question.

Clearing his throat, he pushed up the silk material of your nightgown with no rush behind his actions.

He delicately spread your legs apart, sweeping dainty kisses from your slick-covered thighs to your stomach before unhurriedly pulling away your sticky panties.

Once they were all the way off he gave them a huge whiff like he wanted the scent of your cunt after an eight-hour shift to burn deep into his nostrils.

He exhaled as if it were a sweet aroma of baked cookies, and bunched it up into a ball flinging it somewhere in his room like he was signaling you weren’t getting that back, causing your eyes to widen.

“I wanna savor this—savor you…as long as I can.”

His voice was hoarse as he slipped a finger inside your velvet walls, careful and deep like he needed to feel every inch.

But there was one dire issue, he thought he knew what he was doing from watching—an almost concerning amount of porn, yet it unfortunately made him move his finger only in and out with no sense of set pace or rhythm.

You bit your lip hesitant, leaning up on your elbows as your eyes bored into his “Wait, you’re not doin’ it right.” It wasn’t to be mean, but if he wanted to help out, you weren’t going to take this back and forth like he was trying to hit a non-existent red-button.

He paused his finger for a moment.

“Does that not feel good?” Choso questioned, furrowing his brows in confusion. Thinking wrongfully he was prepared enough for this, gooning to all those videos on twitter or other websites didn’t seem to do him any good afterall.

You shook your head mumbling a near inaudible “Mm-mm.”

“Guide me on what to do then, angel.”

He pleaded, his tone enveloped with curiosity, eager to be corrected—yet felt you flutter around his finger.

“Does she like being called angel?” Those words scampered around his mind, as he squinted his eyes, he made a quick mental note on what you liked while waiting for you to explain any directions you were willing to spill.

You chewed the inside of your cheek, face burning at explaining what your body needed—either way you craved an orgasm, so you decided to suck up the slight tension.

“Here,” you whispered, grabbing his wrist and helping him move at a tortoise-like pace. “You’ve gotta press up a little.”

His mouth fell open slightly as he watched you guide him, if it were possible to get a tattoo of a memory he’d want to ink your vulnerable state in his brain next.

“Press up a little?” He asked, voice tentative like he was trying to figure out his way through a maze.

“Okay um… try curling your finger—like, hook it up.” You described curling your fingers in front of him to give him a picture, assuming he could be more of a visual learner.

He did exactly what you told him, marking your directions in his brain like a fervent student, adjusting his hand to press against a fiercely sensitive spot hiding inside you.

“Keep moving slow okay?” You instructed, chest rising and falling as you relaxed into his touch.

Choso’s mind began to flash back to sensual porn he watched whenever he got tired of overly rough videos, abruptly realizing that’s what made him cum quickly—maybe it’d be the same for you if he properly mimicked the same movements.

Beads of sweat trickled down his temple, as he pursed his lips in concentration, devoted to making you fall apart on his hand first.

Slithering his finger in your clingy walls, he continued to curl up in a repeated motion, stroking your g-spot with the same precise care he gave the finest brushes in his art collection, forcing your back to beautifully arch, entirely surrendering yourself to his long digit.

Choso moaned softly, at how demanding your pussy became–despite him only having one finger engulfed in you, it grasped him like it’d fire him from his job if he stopped at any moment.

He smiled with adoration, mind filled to the brim with colorful confetti, celebrating like this was his biggest accomplishment in life, besides one of his paintings he sold–he got the exact girl he was longing for writhing underneath him, depending on him for pleasure.

“Like that?” he questioned, following your reactions like a hawk.

“Aah, yes! Like that Cho.” You mewled, as you toyed with your hardened nipples through your nightgown, impatiently peeling one of your tits from out of the top.

His pace stuttered for a moment, distracted by the sight of your exposed breast and how lazily you teased yourself. He swallowed hard, correcting his rhythm with a low whimper.

Fuck, why are you like this?

You weren’t even trying to be hot, all you did was flick your nipple between your fingers and for some reason, it was enough for him to bang his hips into the mattress aiming to satisfy the painful throbbing ache in his pants.

Choso rubbed your thigh like he needed it to ground himself, he gave it a gentle squeeze, having a strong thirst to live in your soft flesh.

He maintained massaging your spot, proud your elbows finally became weak—no longer able to support you due to how much bliss you were in.

“You okay, angel?” Genuine concern cloaked his tone, refusing to overwhelm you, but he somehow didn’t realize that’s exactly what made you lose your mind, being overwhelmed.

“‘M fine... just—” your voice shattered like glass, hardly able to finish your train of thought, as your walls fluttered tight around him, “add another finger, please.”

You yearned for that extra push like a woman who hopelessly waited on love letters from her man at work, and at that moment it registered to you that this began to feel a little more intimate than just roommates.

You wanted to push away his wrist—stop him—do anything, but that coil that was stirring in your tummy had you under deep control, it’d be like trying to break free from a cage made of steel.

“Is that better?”

“Mhmm… f–feels so good. You’re doing so well, Cho—so good f’me.”

Oh, he couldn’t wait to free his cock, at this point you were torturing him—not that he minded.

The way your back arched, breasts high and nipples pleading for more. Mouth slightly parted with half-lidded eyes made him want to sketch you like this—ruined under his touch.

“God, you’re so wet,” he panted, surprised at the obscene squelch sounds your body gave him. “you look so pretty, trembling like that for me.”

“She must really like praise, huh?” His thoughts clouded his mind, as he watched a waterfall worth of slick that coated his palm.

Choso gave a smug half-smile, realizing he could unravel you with nothing but his words. Any doubts about sounding awkward? Gone—submerged under the sound of your moans.

Your mind fell numb, grinding your hips down on his digits, crying out his name like a broken record.

“Oh my god Choso.” You squealed—eyes slamming shut, as you grabbed at his lean tatted arm, his muscles flexing at your unexpected touch.

“Choso, choso, choso, I’m close, don’t stop.” You begged, playing a memory that dragged you back to when other men would change their pace or rhythm as soon as you were on the tip of coming.

“Faster Cho, you’re doing such a good job.” You encouraged as your nails scraped his arm, tits jiggling while your hips stuttered against him like he was your only source of euphoria, completely forgetting about your ‘lost’ vibrator.

He listened to you attuned to your needs, then thumbed at your fat greedy mound.

It was too much, feeling overstimulated—his wide thumb circling on your clit as he thrusted his fingers swiftly in a come hither motion, provoking drool to slip past the corners of your lips.

“Hah, Choso—gonna cum, I’m coming!” Your thighs quivered as you threw your forearm across your face, pussy spasming around him like you were trying to reel him in forever.

Faint cries echoed throughout his room as a gush ripped from your cunt, raining over his already doused palm.

Loads of waves poured over him, claiming his palm and wrist, so bad he became sure he’d need an umbrella.

Your body acted like you haven’t orgasmed in centuries, spilling out way too much as if it’d never get a chance to feel another man again.

Finally, he pulled away his fingers noticing the skin was now wet and wrinkly, still he tapped his digits against his lips like he was debating whether or not he wanted to taste your arousal.

Then he dipped them in his mouth, suckling at your wet essence that coated him–his tongue glided over your slick while he tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, as if that’d manage to disrupt his judgement.

Choso’s brows creased like his brain was scanning the flavor on his taste buds and relaying the information to form a final opinion.

He smacked his lips for a second “Hmm, a bit salty, yet sweet, maybe like a chocolate covered pretzel?? I’d say this is a ten out of ten.” Choso announced, giggling as if he were a well-known food critic, but in tasting cum.

“A chocolate covered pretzel?!” You snorted, boisterous, yet fairly bewildered at the bold comparison.

He joined you in laughter, shrugging, except His giggles died down as his eyes met yours again—still entranced from everything.

“You okay?” he asked, checking on you once more, rejecting anything less than an astonishing experience for you. His hand rose up to caress your side, touching you at any chance he had.

“Of course I am,” you nodded, doe eyes swaddling him, but masked behind lust, you reached up towards him, tugging him feebly by his shirt.

“C’mere… I want you inside me, pleaseee.”

The ache in his pants pulsed hard enough to make him wince. He exhaled slowly, nudging closer, slotting his hips between your legs.

Choso blinked, his breath catching. “Y-Yeah? You sure?”

His fingers flexed against your thigh. You were still twitching, your cunt fluttering around nothing as you pawed at his pajama pants.

“I need it, Choso—need you now.”

That was all it took, he leaned in, peppering kisses all over your face like a man who made love to his woman before he went to war. “Fuck, you’re unreal.”

Choso scrambled to tug down his pants, whimpering at the fact that he could finally take care of his boner.

His cock sprang free like it was ready to ravage your pussy, causing your eyes to pop as a gasp flew out of your throat.

The tip was on par with an abnormal sized mushroom, maybe even lab made—flushed coral pink and bitterly leaking, envious it didn’t get any attention yet.

But that wasn’t even the best part, the length looked around seven inches paired with a five inch girth, this was the kind of dick that’d steer you away from any ex or toy for life, you made a wild guess you’d most likely get attached after this as if your heart would stop without him.

“Oh my god?” You covered your mouth, appalled. The other men you’d been with had three or four inches, which occasionally made you yawn during sex.

You never would’ve guessed your roommate who’s quiet—makes small talk with you was secretly packing underneath his typically baggy clothes.

“Is it bad looking?” Choso quizzed, face hued a rose pink—worried he wouldn’t succeed your expectations. “I could still try to please you if—“

“No, it’s so fucking big” you drooled, ogling at him “put it inside me now!” You ordered, as you rubbed your clit in small circles.

He was only left speechless, cock twitching profoundly at your approval until a few words came to mind, “anything you want princess.”

Choso turned powerless to his own actions, hand moving to give himself a few pumps before slapping his fat tip on your clit, provoking you to jolt.

He let out a breathless chuckle like he was going insane. “I’ve been waiting so long for this.”

“You have?”

He responded with a nod as his tip stroked your entrance, gathering some slick to act as lube before lining himself up, then he steadily glided himself in—making your breath hitch.

Your hands fisted the sheets, to comfort yourself with the burning stretch. You were able to feel every single throbbing vein, ridge, and you’d imagine even his beauty marks that decorated his length too.

His eyes searched your face for any discomfort while he continued pushing himself inside you, his girth splitting you open into two.

“Mmm, you want me to stop half way?” He asked as he massaged your hip.

You immediately shook your head “No, all the way in.”

Even through the slight sting you needed everything Choso could give, except that costed your breath to increase, getting heavier, not realizing how much you had to accommodate.

Your walls panicked, feeling like it instantly had to find a way to mold itself properly to his size to ensure you’d only feel a compelling sense of pleasure.

He continued to drag himself all the way in, just like you asked until your pelvis pecked at the hair freckled at the base.

“W—want me to move, or do you need a minute?” Choso questioned, throwing his head back at your tight, warm, wet cave encasing him—knowing it’d be difficult to return to his fleshlight after this, it’d be like trying to sober up after an addiction.

“You can move.” You stated, making an attempt at a neutral tone, but it came off more of a plea.

You never thought missionary could hit like this, usually it bored you, leaving other men to watch a blank expression on your face as they had their way with you, but with Choso, your body sucked him in like a black hole completely immersed in his length.

“Fuck, fuck—you’re squeezing me so tight, angel.” He groaned as he unbuttoned his shirt, taking it off like it’d cool off his body.

Then at last his hips rocked forward, slow but deep, like he wanted to carve his name into your guts.

“Y’gonna ruin me,” he breathed, and you swore for a moment question marks were exploding on top of your head confused like he wasn’t the one ruining you.

Vibrators always helped with stimulation but they never prepared you for the sheer stretch and fullness of cock—especially since Choso’s thick, it felt like a soda can was trying to jam inside your cushion walls.

He pulled back just enough to harshly launch back in on purpose—remembering how much you loved being overwhelmed.

You sobbed his name in like a prayer hoping to be answered any minute, turning your head side to side into the silk sheets.

It almost turned mortifying how sensitive your sopping cunt was, those two years promptly catching up to you, reminding you how badly you wished for dick to break the streak.

You were basically in heat, squeezing around him, placing your hand on his abs like it’d console you from his deep thrusts.

“S–shit, I didn’t know anyone could make me feel like this.” You mumbled beyond perplexed an inexperienced man already had you seeing stars.

You kept trying to tell yourself on loop that this is just sex, something casual until you marched yourself to Spencer’s to buy another soulless piece of silicone to mourn the real thing, but your lash line started to swell with tears, cherishing that his eyes were glued to your face digging for any reaction you spared him.

And telling yourself this is just a small one-time thing began to feel suffocating, specifically since he delicately held your hips–too shy to leave bruises, rolling into you like you were an idol meant to be worshipped.

Your heart erupted with heat each time he softly cursed your name–leaning in to kiss your neck, beginning to realize your friends possibly weren’t exaggerating when they expressed how mind-blowing sex is, every stroke raised your standards for the next man, well, if you weren’t too attached afterwards.

Choso shot a smile flourishing with passion, knowing you felt ecstasy simply because of him–it was just like he dreamed of when he masturbated if not better.

He used one hand to thumb at your clit, circling it with careful, messy swipes just to hear those moans, the ones gentle as clouds escaping your lips—with his other hand, he reached for yours, fingers lacing together and pressing them into the pillow beside your head like he wanted sculpt how infatuated he was with you.

His hips rocked forward in slow, deliberate thrusts, but each time he bottomed out, he ground—like he was trying to argue with your body to prove entirely nothing could be better than this.

He wanted to etch himself into your walls, dedicated to making this memorable.

Every steady drag of his cock left behind a milky trail of your thick cream on his shaft that clung to him like a crazy jealous ex who wouldn’t let go.

You felt him everywhere.

Not just stretching your pussy, but filling your tummy, pressing against something deeper—maybe your womb, probably your soul.

You clamped around him uncontrollably tight—not even sure if your body wanted more, to cry, or scream that you couldn’t take it.

But then you thought about those rude-ass clients from earlier.

There was no way in hell you were tapping out.

His fat tip kept thumping your sweet spots with surgeon-like precision, making your toes curl and your hands try to weakly reach for the nightstand.

It still wasn’t enough. You wanted to be wrecked—spoiled—reduced to nothing but a whore underneath him.

So, you did what any bratty woman would do, what better way to ask than tease your way into this?

“You… don’t gotta… move so slow anymore Choso,” you faked a yawn, or tried to in between breaths “maybe I should go look for my vibrator—see if that gets the job done instead.”

His pace faltered—just for a moment like something short-circuited. Then his eyes shifted, and you could see it click, something devious lighting up behind them.

“Yeah?”

His voice dropped an octave—baritone, yet rich as satin, being enough to make your skin prickle with goosebumps, recognizing there was something mischievous hiding underneath the surface.

He withdrew his shaft, but didn’t pull all the way out, just until the head of his cock sat tauntingly in your slick entrance, like it was alerting you what you were in for, messing with a man who has had an excessive fixation on you for four years.

You could feel your pussy throb like your slutty hole had its own heartbeat, attempting to grab him back in as if it were irritated you were teasing the best dick of your life.

His soft palm cupped your breast, watching how your hard nipple jostled at his fingertips.

With a slow roll of his thumb, he circled your bud—softly pinching it, studying the way your back twitched off the mattress.

A whimper flew from your parted lips, fingers tangled in the sheets at how sacred his hands kneaded you, a sheepish expression plastered across your face at how responsive you were, it was like every molecule in your body finally felt seen.

And although Choso looked like someone who sat on Discord all day, sketching anime girls in questionable poses for “anatomy study,” debating mischaracterized characters on Reddit threads at 2 a.m.—you knew you were about to be ruined.

“If that’s what you want…” He sucked in a shaky breath through his nose, jaw tight so tight a vein could burst—like he was satisfied he could be rougher, letting his pervy energy leak through. “I’ll give you anything.”

You tried to keep up the bored act, a deadpan expression sprawling out over your face, considering whether or not rolling your eyes or huffing out a fake sigh was too far.

Distracting yourself by the windy spring air blowing the curtains—you pondered for a moment, eyes deciding to entertain themselves inspecting the rest of his room, darting to the walls decorated with anime posters that were most likely judging your sinful actions.

But then—he grabbed both of your legs, hoisting and folding them over his shoulders in one sharp motion, so quick that the succulent fat of your thighs angrily jiggled at the sudden movement.

His eyes narrowed in focus, shaking his head to move his raven bangs that stuck like glue to his forehead, but you instantly broke him out of deep concentration as broken moans rumbled from your throat.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Your voice strained, as a string of curses rushed out of your mouth, his mushroom tip pushing farther.

You weren’t ready for how deep this angle let him reach—having your knees nudge your collarbones or the intense stretch.

Mentally, little disorganized files in your brain broke open, scattering to figure out where he learned his technique from, especially since not too long ago you were guiding him on how to finger you, could it be porn, or maybe advice from quora?

You couldn’t even be bothered to solve that grueling mystery now though, because you swore you saw a faint trace of a smirk gracing Choso’s features.

Not the playful one you usually gave him to tease, just to rile him up for pure amusement.

It screamed more like a yellow warning sign, a promise as if to tell you “be careful for what you wish for.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Your voice cracked between shallow breaths, pleading for mercy, all while secretly hoping he’d ignore them—wrecking you until you were walking funny for the next two weeks.

But in typical Choso fashion, not a single word dared to exit his mouth.

You simply braced for impact, throwing your forearm back over your face like you were a damsel in distress.

Then he slammed into you–all the way, at once–his full length bullying any sensitive spot imaginable, burying himself to the hilt—his short nails digging tiny crescent moons into the plush of your thighs.

Your mind shimmered in elation—the pleasure comparable to a warm hug, you nearly wondered if you should’ve mumbled out a thank you for how dreamy everything felt.

Each slam of his thick cock felt as if it were exasperated, reclaiming his silence for four years of crushing on you–like he was begging to know how you could be so oblivious this whole time.

The poor wooden headboard croaked at the pressure, banging against the wall louder than siren, someone would assume it was trying to find an escape–refusing to be the spot you two fucked like animals on top of.

Those years of moaning into your pillow with your vibrator on max setting—worthless. It was like your pussy forgot what real pleasure was supposed to feel like.

Ramming into you his balls slapped the curve of your pussy, hard enough to make your back arch and body shudder like he was commanding you to, except without any words needed.

The stretch of him felt like if your body took another cock it’d deny access immediately, you wouldn’t mind staying this way though, even if it was too much for you to handle, you’d replay this moment while lucid dreaming, doing anything to be folded in half like this again.

“S’full, m’ so fuckin' full Choso.” You babbled, tears wobbling at the edge of your lash line, creeping down your face like it didn’t want to be noticed.

“Mhm, I know princess.” He cooed, continuing to drive into you as he carefully watched your tummy bulge dance with every thrust “That’s all me huh?” He mentioned completely struck at how big he was as if he didn’t consistently measure himself.

Once one large hand departed to press on your belly, your jaw went slack from the immense pressure, his dick kept critically knocking into that precious a-spot, like he was perfectly doing calculations in his brain which angles or thrusts would make you sob.

Your half-lidded eyes were blurry, rolling back until you saw white.

Your vision was as good as television static, the black and white specs twinkling—thoughts fading into a puddle of mush as your tongue lolled out, proving he fucked you dumb.

Drool slipped past your lips, lashes flickering like you were fragile—seconds from breaking apart.

That's when he snapped—mind brittle in arousal, eyes darkening at how pornographic you looked, exactly how he’s been daydreaming when he masturbated to the thought of you, hungry and desperate for you to make a slutty ahegao face.

“Shit,” a long drawn out groan crawled out his plump lips, as his pace stammered for a moment, absorbed in your lack to control your features contorting by bliss.

One pale hand still rested on your leg, while the other grabbed your jaw holding you in place effortlessly, leaning so close his breath could fog your face if it were glass just to spit a massive glob making sure it aimed right for your tongue.

By this point you were hazy—maybe half-gone swallowing without hesitation, lips closing as his spit swam down your throat keeping a piece of him inside your body.

You gave a droopy smile, almost nothing could break you out of your sexual high besides Choso quickly apologizing for the sudden act.

“Shit, wait, I didn’t mean—” he started to explain himself, voice drizzled with guilt, yet it was hard to focus with him consistently pounding so deep you wouldn’t be exaggerating if you said you felt his dick in your chest.

“Was it too much?” He panted, worried he may have grossed you out.

Not knowing that you’ve been craving someone who goes beyond vanilla sex this entire time.

“No, do it again.” You begged, scratching at his abs with no force behind it.

His breath hitched, eyes nearly bursting out of the socket “You’re gonna be the death of me Y/n.”

Tilting your jaw once more, he gathered every last drop of saliva in his mouth to spit another glob on top of your needy tongue.

His fingertips pushed up at your chin, signaling you to swallow everything he gave you—making him proud that another piece of him was going to disappear down into your tummy.

You held onto it for a minute before swallowing though, savoring the flavor of his obsession before completely letting it leave—moaning once you felt well-fed by your roommate.

“There you go, s’good for me.” His pupils twitched at how vulnerable you were with him, feeling a sense of connection to every noise you made, every eye roll, how you trusted him enough to let him do whatever he wanted with you.

And your heart shouldn’t have combusted like it did at his words, knowing this should only be a one time thing before things get serious, but your thoughts were frolicking in circles at the idea of being married to Choso, unable to care about the relationship stage first.

Your eyes—finally able to look properly couldn’t even stare into his, dodging his every glance.

You couldn’t tell whether you hated how observant he was or not because then—he grasped your jawline like it was an insult to avoid his gaze.

“Look at me angel, want you to see how good m’ fucking you.”

The only thought you could conjure up was “Is he trying to make me fall for him?” It seemed like everything he did made both heartbeats skip.

His length hammered into your sensitive core as you looked up to him with loving doe eyes, your fingers holding onto the ones hooked on your jaw keeping him in place, like if he let go you'd miserably whine if he stopped.

“Mmngh, look at that…” Choso groaned, intentionally thrusting slower to let you revel in how much his girth ripped you to shreds, while he carefully analyzed the outline of his cock he ingrained into your belly—still shocked, not realizing how huge it was.

You could only respond by squeezing him like you were trying to milk him dry of four years worth of being pent up, dazed, you struggled to give him eye contact, until he instantly made them broaden—completely stunned.

While one hand stayed pressed on your stomach, one of his hands latched to your ankle, planting a tender kiss on it without breaking his fast paced rhythm, he dragged your pointed foot up—lips making love to your heel, the soft skin of your arch, and each one of your toes coated in cheetah print polish.

He wasn’t sure why, but the lavish design only drew him in even more like if he kept paying your feet any more attention he’d stay hard for another round.

“Mmmph s’cute,” he slurred, wet muscle grazing the pads of each toe like it was a heavenly meal prepared and served only for him to pamper himself with.

At first it tickled like your nerves were panicking—trying to process being stimulated there, but then once the strange tingly feeling finally substituted for pleasure your mewls grew louder as he added suction like he was striving to extract your soul through your foot.

He slurped, releasing each toe with a wet pop before taking in the next, unapologetic about how down bad his demeanor drifted off.

Your brain fried itself like it urgently tried to pinpoint why it felt so amazing, yet peculiar at the same time.

Words like “No, no, no, this is so fucking weird, but I don’t want him to stop????” Tripled in your head, chasing after an answer you couldn’t find.

The sensation of his mouth on one end and his cock punching deep into your guts felt too much to handle, although you practically asked for it.

You floated in a pool of shame, arrows pointing at how pitiful and submissive you were for allowing this to happen.

Usually you judged others for being into something like this, scrunching up your face in disgust whenever someone mentioned how they enjoyed having their feet adored, slowly you were beginning to realize this whole time it was all about having the right person do it for you.

With Choso, he did it with so much care, ideas of it being disturbing declined crossing your mind, he made it certain he wanted to devote himself to testing everything that possibly turned you on.

Even the parts that others would deem as too filthy, he just saw it as another part of you to explore.

As he increased suction, slightly hollowing his cheeks, his wet muscle swerved around the dips and ridges of your skin.

Sex wasn’t supposed to be this intense, you never had to manually breathe through taking cock, yet here you were mentally telling yourself to inhale and exhale as you massaged at your bundle of nerves as if that’d somehow calm you down, but that coil started to build again, like you were on the tip of letting go any moment.

“C’mon, I know you’re close,” he murmured, voice muffled as your toes were still in his mouth causing your pussy to spasm around his length—vibrations driving you crazy.

Recognizing that familiar spasm, this time around his dick—he briskly thrusted so deep his tip nearly smooched your womb.

THWAP THWAP THWAP!

The sound of skin colliding with each other filled the room, echoing loud enough to be heard five doors down your shared apartment.

“Choso, fuck, oh my god...” you let choked sobs roam free as the weak coil rang, like it had to alert you were going to cum, the most fierce orgasm you were about to have in your life, not even your wand vibrator on max settings or your favorite rhythm could compare.

You would’ve never guessed that having every inch of your body worshipped including down to your soles of your feet would make you feel like a swarm of butterflies fought in your stomach.

Slowly you gave up mentally coaching yourself how to breathe—every exhale becoming ragged like someone was chasing you, except that someone happened to be your orgasm.

Your legs trembled on top of his broad shoulders, body jerking like a woman possessed, but in pure euphoria.

Everything around you fizzled out into nothingness, unable to form a single thought, and maybe your mind was doing you a favor, letting you fully appreciate this moment with every fiber in your soul.

“Shit, c—can’t move…” His voice wavered along a high-pitch needy groan, the muscles in his thighs shuddering like his own body attempted to run from the orgasm he was seconds from collapsing under.

Your pussy squeezed him like a tight glove, designed for him flawlessly, it felt like watching another girl on twitter would be degrading to you by how snug you were.

The one thing your tight hole tolerated right now was him grinding so deep you'd need a map to find his mushroom tip inside your silk walls.

“Baby, I—I’m g’nna cum, hold me, please...” you pleaded, tears anchoring at the edge of your eyes as you weakly reached up for him with a pout forming on your face.

“Baby?” His eyes softened—like hearing you call him that unlocked something buried in the depths of his soul as if a cupid’s arrow somehow managed to shoot him in the dead of spring.

Immediately letting your foot go, you didn’t have to tell Choso twice, he leaned over still balls deep inside you–using one hand to cradle your head like you were all his, while the other snaked itself underneath your back pulling you slightly towards him.

“Let go for me, cum all over my cock.” He whispered into your ear, helping you through your orgasm.

And although your moans were raw—guttural, his mind managed to mistake it for angelic cries, so beautiful it sounded like a melody on the harp serenading him.

Your legs wrapped around him, your nails clawed at his back, the deep red scratch marks contrasting with his pale skin.

Gasping at first he felt dizzy, drunk off of the pain you saturated him in, his tip kept nudging your a-spot until you spasmed around him in rapid motions, soon coating him with a thick cream that nuzzled right at the base of his length, dribbling even his hair in your arousal.

Your noises went silent, stuck in an o shape as he continued to pound into you, abs flexing as he chased his own high.

His breath became frayed like a rope, a flood of tears streaming down his cheeks, landing onto your face as you cupped his chin, somehow making him fall harder than before, convinced his heart was stabbing you by how fast it was racing.

“F—fuck, fuckfuckfuck, love you so m—much, loved you this whole time.” He admitted, roughly biting your neck like that would keep him stable.

Your greedy cunt fluttered at his sudden confession, gasping like he revealed a dirty secret not even an interrogator could get him to blurt out.

“He loves me..?!” Your thoughts repeated like those words were signed into your memory forever, wondering if you really had been oblivious for eons.

Your lips pursed like you wanted to reply back, but something was yanking you away, so many questions were bouncing through your head, like how long has it been since he realized his feelings? Or did you even deserve to be surrounded in this much attention? Especially for the sake of stress relief after work.

Drowning out your thoughts his fingernails dug so far into the flesh of your hips, it’d be bruised for weeks—Choso planted kisses over face in a scattered motion, as his hips snapped up into your pelvis in messy uneven thrusts, knocking the wind out of you.

“Where do you want me?” He begged to know, satisfied with any answer you gave him.

“O-on top of my tummy.” You croaked out with a giggle, freeing him from the cage of your wrapped legs, you knew exactly what you were going to do once he came.

Following your command he instantly fumbled his way out of you, his cock twitching with shaky hands as he jerked himself whimpering loud enough to deafen your ears.

Pushing up the material of your nightgown that tried running down due to his movements, his hips jolted forward until thick white ropes spilled on top of your stomach, finally draining himself—years of being pent up.

It wouldn’t stop leaking out—his slit gushing out cum like paint from a cracked can. You swore it was enough cum to last a decade, warm like an oven, sending chills down your spine, forgetting how good someone’s arousal could feel against your skin.

The room was filled with panting as if two people were in a race, but in who would cum first—trying to catch your breath for a moment you bit the inside of your cheek as your fingers traced the thick seed he left to melt on you.

Smearing it all over yourself first playing in it like it was made to relax in when you were stressed—bringing it up to your lips to taste it, your mouth closed around your digits like it was your last meal before blacking out.

“So, how does it taste?” He asked, interrupting your little test awkwardly, scratching his pink tinted neck.

His gaze intensely flowed into you, hoping your response wouldn’t embarrass him—but thankfully in advance he had been preparing himself in case he ever got the slim chance to fuck you.

His diet consisting of fruit bowls bigger than his head and jugs those of water coming in handy—rarely munching on junk food, avoiding fucking up his flavor as much as possible.

You smacked your lips, purposefully mimicking him tasting you from earlier “It’s surprisingly good.”

“Surprisingly?” He chuckled, not sure whether or not to take it as a compliment.

“I expected it to be super salty, I’m sorry.” You half joked, leaning up on your elbows with whatever strength you had left.

“Ouch…?” He said with the face of a kicked puppy, eyes droopy at your assumption.

Staring at the mess he made, he was almost hesitant to ask, wishing he could pause time and be stuck in this moment forever.

“W-wanna get cleaned up or… uh?”

You nodded, yet your eyebrows raised in disbelief at how he stuttered like he didn’t just rummage through your guts.

“Carry me!” You demanded like a soldier defeated in battle.

He gave a lazy smile mumbling “yes ma’am.”

Lifting you off the mattress with shaky arms, Choso held you like you were made of glass—though the sticky mess between you begged to differ. His load clung to your skin and smeared across his stomach with every step, but he didn’t complain. Just buried his nose in the crown of your head as he carried you to the bathroom in silence.

Your arms wrapped tighter around his neck, like if you let go, your body might actually fracture into tiny pieces.

The tiles were freezing when your toes hit the floor, and you clung to his inked forearm for balance. He turned the silver lever slowly, steam hissing out with the first spray of warm water.

Neither of you said much as he took off your bonnet, then slid back the straps of your short nightgown down your shoulders, watching it drop on the floor.

Choso guided you under the water, letting the heat soak through your skin like a balm.

Leaning against the wall for support, your legs were as wobbly as an antique table, already dreading the thought of clocking in at your job tomorrow.

The first splash attacked your hips and you winced, throwing your head into the wall, breathing in the steam like that would somehow help.

Choso turned so fast he nearly broke the spinal cord in his neck.

“Did I hurt you?” His tone cracked with the ghost of guilt, running his hands through his glossy damp hair.

He knew he was a little rougher towards the end, but he felt like a monster knowing you were in pain because of him—praying he didn’t go overboard.

You looked down at your figure and saw the faint bruises forming along your sides where his fingers had dug in brutally.

“No,” you murmured so quietly not even a wolf could hear, while picking up the shower head letting the water push the seed off of your belly. “I’d let you do it again anyway.”

His Adam's apple bobbed like your words were a shot of honey mixed with poison.

But his expression crumpled like a paper bag for a second. Like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to feel proud or ashamed.

The thought of you allowing him the possible chance of being able to make love again infiltrated his brain, his mind began to wander if you two would eventually buy a place with one bedroom—no longer needing separate rooms, maybe he’d never need pillows again to keep himself warm and not feel a little empty at night.

His fingers grazed your stomach like he was touching something divine, a blush staining his pale cheeks at the amount of cum he drizzled on you.

Instinctively you snatched yourself slightly to the side, flinching like his touch was foreign–the love radiating off of his heart attempting to transfer itself to yours haunted you.

Retreating his hand, he furrowed his brows in confusion, completely lost at the sudden act, you wouldn’t be hallucinating if you said you saw question marks rise above his head.

“I'm still a bit sensitive from everything, sorry.” You blurted, dodging eye contact, facing forward to the wall in front of you–studying the silver rack filled with bath bombs, wash cloths, and soaps.

He blinked, stunned. Something in him screamed to reach again, but he stood still—fighting the fear that if he touched you again, you might disappear completely.

He bashfully smiled in relief, whisking up a little plan to help your trouble, his fingers reached for the body wash on the rack before speaking.

“Let me at least take care of you,” he mumbled, lathering a few pumps into his palms, rubbing his hands together to let it bubble first.

Then he massaged it gently onto your skin like he was a professional that worked at a spa. It was hard not to feel soothed under every press of his digits, letting out chaste moans as his touch got slower and intentional—less about cleaning up, more so about making you feel cared for afterwards.

Your eyes gradually sealed shut, as he rested his chin on top of your head inhaling your saccharine fragrance.

“Your hair smells so nice, wish I could live in your scent.” He whispered, voice raspy, as he kneaded your sore hips like dough.

You tried to force away a grin at his praise, biting your lip, refusing yourself to easily fall for someone again.

The brick barrier you built to protect your soul was too strong to be broken, by something temporary right?

Beneath the tranquil stream. Water cascaded down the curves of your bodies, tracing every line like it wanted to mesh you two together in a knot that even someone with pounds of muscle couldn’t untie.

At last, Choso cleared his throat, gulping so loud it had its own echo.

“Y/n…” he started, saying your name in an uneasy tone, yet almost too soft to hear over the water, withdrawing his hands for a moment, fiddling with his fingers he looked down at his feet, gathering his thoughts like one wrong word would change his life forever.

He inhaled deep, like the steam wasn’t scalding enough—like if he didn’t ask now, the moment might slip through the palms of his hands.

You blinked, lashes heavy with water sprinkling on them.

“Yeah?” You finally answered with confusion embellishing your voice.

He swallowed hard like he wanted to back out of popping the big question, but he was already too far gone.

His eyes didn’t meet yours anymore, but you could feel them searching—just not brave enough to land.

“I don’t really know how to say this,” he muttered, voice hoarse, hands wringing together jittery like he needed something to hold onto to comfort him.

“But…”

There was a pause, a long unsettling one.

You watched him retract into himself—processing, editing, like he was writing a graded essay in his brain, chucking every word that would throw you off into his mental dumpster that tried to come out before this.

“What are we?”

Those words hit you like a truck with no intention of stopping—no brakes, no hesitation, just raw steel and impact.

They didn’t just slam into you. They peeled something open. Something you weren’t ready to unpack yet.

Your stomach dropped, a twisting ache blooming in your chest like you’d been caught in something too deep and too fast.

You knew you should’ve had this conversation prior, the “what ifs?” But of course you thought with hormones and not with intelligence.

Moving away from him, you looked side to side like you were trapped, suddenly feeling claustrophobic.

Because it wasn’t just a question. It was every unspoken hope he had. A reminder how oblivious you had been these past four years.

It was him flinging his heart into your hands without knowing if you’d catch it—or crush it.

“I mean—” he scrambled, voice picking up a notch in panic. “I know I’m the one who offered… the whole stress relief thing. And maybe I’m reading into it too much, maybe it’s just me, but—”

His throat bobbed, gulping down whatever bond you two had left.

“Was this just a one-time thing?”

And that question—so gentle, so sincere—felt louder than any moan from earlier.

Because it wasn’t just curiosity.

It was hope that you’d say no. That you’d say maybe. That you’d say anything other than what he feared most.

“I—I don’t know.” You blurted without thinking, covering your mouth like you were appalled at your own sentence.

Just possibly, if he had given you time to collect your thoughts, it could’ve turned out differently.

You wanted to say it. That you were inching toward something with him too. That maybe this wasn’t just heat-of-the-moment lust.

But it felt too fast or too much—usually, you loved being overwhelmed, except not like this.

He wasn’t aware that you’d been abstinent for a reason—not just because of past burnout, but because of what the last situationship did to you.

How it left you afraid of promises. How it carved out the belief that intimacy always came with a deadline.

You’d spent months convincing yourself love was a trick, something that only lived in fairytales or those hallmark romance movies.

And yet, here was Choso.

He didn’t just fuck you. He gave you an experience that felt holy—touching you like you were his alter.

And that horrified you.

Because for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like your body was drained of all its use. It felt like something someone wanted to stay with and belong.

“You don’t know?” He repeated it so softly it barely cut through the sound of the shower. Like if he spoke any louder, it would crack something open inside him.

“Okay.” He responded, monotone, no emotion behind it, yet internally he felt desperate to kneel like a knight who was soon to be beheaded.

“I’m sorry.”

You whispered it as if it could bandage the gaping wound you already shot into his heart.

Steadily and awkwardly, you slipped out from under the stream, opening the curtains and drying your feet on the mat. You didn’t look back—not because you didn’t care, but because you did. Too much.

You reached for the towel, draping it over your shoulders like armor.

You lingered there, just a second too long. The sound of water pinging the floor filled your ears, near deafening. You almost turned back, shaking your head since the damage was already done.

He didn’t stop you. What could he say? What would’ve changed your mind?

The silence thudded louder than anything else had tonight.

As you trudged out of the bathroom, the steam curling around your ankles like it wanted to follow you, Choso remained rooted in place.

Alone beneath the falling water.

He turned slowly, reaching behind to scrub at his back—but the sting from your nails made him hiss. It bloomed sharp and sudden, and he winced at the red lines carved into his skin.

Somehow, even that hurt less than hearing “I don’t know.”

A near-permanent reminder that—for one night—you gave him a chance to hold you at all.

He mentally encouraged himself to cry, to let it all out and soften the blow.

Usually, he wouldn’t let himself.

But how could he feel weak when his tears would blur right into the water anyway?

Just like everything else he didn’t get to keep.

Divider/Boarders produced by anitalenia & cursed-carmine.

Song written by Koi’lani/@aquasoftware.

REBLOGS, COMMENTS, (nice) ANONS, AND LIKES ARE HEAVILY APPRECIATED!! THANK YOU <33

#— ꒰𝗞𝗼𝗶’𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗶’𝘀 𝗹𝗼𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘆 🎰꒱༄#choso x f!reader #choso x female reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x reader #choso kamo x female reader #choso kamo x y/n #choso kamo x you #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader smut #jjk choso smut #choso smut #jujutsu choso #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst

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