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this is absolutely divine like wow,, i need to be someone’s muse immediately pls

MUSE [L.H.]

Logan Howlett x reader

summary: Logan would never admit it to anyone, but over the course of his long life he has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. He hasn’t done it in years, maybe even decades, but he’s struck by inspiration when he meets you. Of course, no one can know that Wolverine draws, so he does it in the dead of night, sliding anonymous envelopes with the finished drawings of you under your door. When he sees how much you love them, he wonders if you could also love the person behind them. 

warnings: smut 18+ but with an actual plot for once (brief m masturbation, oral f and m rec, unprotected piv sex, kind of accidental (but consensual obv) facial; pet names: bub, baby, good girl, princess), soft!Logan but he won’t admit it, also soft!reader, fluff (although the summary makes it sounds a bit more dramatic than it is tbh), implication that reader has curly hair, implied mutant/X-men!reader, (obviously the pic doesn’t represent the envelopes Logan uses lol he’s not doing all that)

word count: 7.3k

also i feel the need to say something about the fact that it’s Hugh Jackman’s birthday today lol so uh thanks for being huge jacked man and for giving us our Logan yay <3 | gorgeous divider by @plutism

It’s everything Logan is the opposite of – he would never tell a soul – but over the course of his long life, Logan has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. It’s not really him, but he did have a phase or two.

When he meets you, he hasn’t even thought of picking up a pencil in years. Ever since you’ve been at the mansion though, Logan’s fingertips twitch with the urge to start sketching your features every time he’s with you. It gets hard to ignore after a few days.

He waits until he’s known you a few weeks, there’s no way in hell he’d ask if he could draw you. He’d probably embarrass you by asking, and embarrass himself by admitting he’s into fucking art. That’s not him. 

Except, well, sometimes it is, when he’s inspired. And you’re nothing if not inspiring. 

He gives in to the urge to get out pencil and paper again, waiting until everyone else has gone to sleep. The first few drawings are shit, he feels like they’re almost an insult to you. It’s not that he’s accidentally drawing you ugly, it just doesn’t look like you. So he practises. 

Logan Howlett sits down at night to practise drawing. 

He picks out a few other things to draw then, to ease the pressure that comes with drawing the woman he… is friends with. Yeah, you’re a friend. And he totally knows that you’d never go for someone as rugged as him, that’s for sure. You deserve much more. So much more. 

But after a few nights he feels more confident in his drawing skills again, but still, as much as he can picture you in his mind – he can do that absolutely perfectly – he’s not too sure he could really draw you accurately.

So he gets Rogue to show him how goddamn fucking Instagram works so that he can look at some of your pictures and use them as a model. 

He doesn’t know what you’re doing to him; you’ve got him using social media.

He can’t believe it, but the first time he seriously attempts to draw you, it’s perfect. It’s a small drawing, not even as big as his palm, capturing your gorgeous face. He thinks of adding another few lines to your eyebrows, or to your hair or another small one to the outline of your lips, but he doesn’t want to mess with it. 

Logan hates how drawing makes him overthink, but he loves how it feels to create something other than violence with his hands for once – something that may even be the opposite. 

He hides the drawing in between the pages of a book, and hides the book under a pile of random clutter on his desk that not even he would normally spare a glance at. But when he lies down to go to sleep, he gets all the stuff out again and gets out the drawing. He wants to see it again. And he can’t leave it there anyway, what if the pressure from all the items on top of it smudges it? 

But he doesn’t know what else to do with it. He can’t really have a drawing of you sitting in his room. What if someone sees? Then what is he gonna do with it instead? 

He finally lets himself think the thought that’s politely been waiting to be allowed into his brain from the moment he decided he might take up drawing again. 

He could give it to you. 

Logan knows his drawing isn’t objectively a masterpiece, but if he’s proud of it he has to acknowledge that that probably means it’s at least decent. And you’re definitely the type of person to appreciate something like this. It’s weird admitting to himself that he’s even proud of what he’s drawn; he’s done so much in this world, who cares about a little drawing? 

The only thing is that Logan isn’t sure if he’s ready for anyone to see this side of him. To see the side that has him staying up until 3AM to finely trace the lines of someone’s eyelashes and cheekbones and lips, the side that makes him feel calm inside. 

He knows it’s stupid to hide but he just can’t. He decides he’ll leave the drawing in your room in an envelope, maybe a pink one to show you it’s not a creepy threat but meant as a sign of adoration, from someone who couldn’t resist but try to recreate your beauty. He won’t write his name on it, he just wants you to have it. 

Sappy motherfucker. 

He puts the small drawing back into the book and carefully pushes it between his mattress and the bedframe to protect it during the night. God, who even is he – protecting a tiny piece of paper? He groans at himself as he turns around to go to sleep. 

He dreams of making a thousand drawings of you, with you as his live model. His muse. 

You’re his girlfriend in his dream, he thinks. 

He’s sitting in a chair in your room, drawing you as you tell him about your day. You’re lying on your bed on your tummy, elbows propped up to support your head. You’re gently kicking your feet in the air behind you, wearing nothing but a t-shirt of Logan’s, some silly graphic socks, panties with little cherries on them, and a bright, bashful smile as Logan attempts to capture your glowing features in a sketch block he’s dedicated to drawings of you. 

He wakes up with morning wood. 

Logan is no stranger to jerking off with you on his mind, so he spits in his hand and slips it beneath his boxers, stroking himself as he thinks of you. He imagines you on top of him as he jerks his cock, imagines you under him, or with your legs around his head, or you between his knees on the floor. He cums quickly and hard, leaving his boxers wet and sticky.

He goes for a run after he’s dealt with it and picks up an envelope on his way. He’s doubting himself but he knows he has to just do it. He’d doubt himself even more if he pussied out – a grown man who can’t even slide an envelope under someone’s door. 

So Logan mans up and, like an idiot, kisses the fucking drawing before he puts it into the envelope. He licks the edges of it to close it and writes your name in the most anonymous handwriting he can muster and adds a little heart. 

It’s soo stupid. 

He makes sure no one is anywhere near your bedroom, walks up to your door, and slides the envelope underneath. Except he didn’t check if you were in your room. As soon as the envelope disappears beneath your door, he hears a short creak from your bed and your soft footsteps. 

He hears the small and adorable noise of curiosity you let out – a confused hm? – and then he quickly and quietly makes his way down the hallway. He hears your voice about ten seconds later, an intrigued hello? as you open the door, but you don’t investigate further, closing the door behind you. 

Logan’s heart is beating so fast. He’s never doing this shit again. 

He’s antsy all day, waiting for some type of reaction from you. Except you don’t know that the drawing is from him so he’s probably not even getting one, and he can’t conspicuously come to your room the same day you receive an anonymous drawing of yourself. 

It’s also when the insecurity settles in. Maybe he should have added a few more lines or started the entire drawing anew. Who does he think he is pretending to be an artist? 

He shakes those thoughts off as he starts training with the punching bag in the gym. It’s not something that he necessarily needs to train, but it gets rid of some of that pointless energy. This isn’t him, worried about some lines he drew on a piece of paper – a scrap of a paper, really. Who cares about something like that? Certainly not him. 

He sleeps dreamlessly and wakes up the next day disappointed that he didn’t get to dream about being your boyfriend again. God, what are you doing to him? Making him think about being boyfriend and girlfriend. He’s pathetic. You’re a friend and nothing more, and that’s fine. You probably don’t like him like that and he can deal with that.

-

He’s not even thinking of the drawing anymore, truly, when he walks into the kitchen the next morning. It only comes to mind when he sees you, alone in the kitchen, leaning over the counter to scroll on your phone, your weird green coffee (“it’s Matcha, Logan”) next to you as you stir it mindlessly with a metal straw. 

“Hi,” you look up with one of those sweet smiles of yours, but redirect your attention to your phone. 

At least you don’t immediately say something like hey, you know that drawing you slid under my door? It was so ugly I threw it away. Since when do you even draw? 

Not that he was worried you would or anything. He hasn’t been thinking about it. Obviously. Why would he? And he knows you would never expect that it’s him; that’s the only reason he did it. He never would have given you the drawing if he thought you could have even the slightest inkling that Logan would be someone who draws. But he still wants to know what you think of it. 

“You want some toast too?” You ask, putting your phone down and turning to get some bread. He sits down at the other side of the kitchen counter and as his eyes flicker to your green drink (he still doesn’t get it), he sees it. 

“Is that–” my drawing, he almost said, “What is that?” He pretends to be confused, drawing his eyebrows together, trying his best to look inquisitive, “No toast by the way, thanks.” 

You have one of those clear phone cases, filled with a bunch of tiny pictures and stickers (and is that your credit card?). But wedged in front of all of those is Logan’s drawing. 

“Did you draw it?” He asks. 

You turn around, giggling, “No, I don’t draw. And anyway, I wouldn’t be drawing pictures of myself. I got it in an envelope under my door yesterday, photocopied it because I was scared it would bend in my phone case. I don’t know who drew it.” 

“Secret admirer?” 

Smiling, you say, “I don’t know. I won’t get my hopes up. But the person must definitely be fond of me to draw me like that.” 

“Like what?” He asks, unsure if he’s about to be offended. 

“I don’t know, just, so beautiful. I’m not saying I’m not pretty or anything, but this looks… I don’t look like that. I wish I did. I can’t believe someone actually sees me like that. It’s stupid but I….” You trail off and, conveniently, the toast is done at the same time and you move on to that. 

But Logan won’t let you, “What’s stupid?” 

You turn towards him with a shy smile, “I’m embarrassed.”

Logan stays silent. He can’t seem too pushy and draw attention to himself, but his silence makes you confess.

“I cried when I first saw it yesterday. It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. And it’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, for someone to perceive me in such an artistic way.” 

Logan makes a noise of satisfaction and smiles, asking you to pass your phone so he can look at it more – pretending it’s his first time seeing it. If you think that way about it, maybe the three more lines he was going to add aren’t that important after all. 

The problem is that it makes him want to draw more, his stupid heart melting at your reaction to something he made– no, created. 

-

After a week, he figures he has to give in. Drawing another picture of you is on his mind twenty-four seven. 

It doesn’t help that he still catches you staring at the copy of it in your phone case lovingly more than once a day and you’ve put the original drawing in a special little frame on your nightstand. He thinks he’s sappy for drawing it but he doesn’t think the same of you for enjoying the drawing. 

This is for you. It’s not about him. He’s not an artist or anything like that, he’s just doing something kind for someone he cares about (which is honestly sappy enough but he tries to ignore that). He’s usually more of a silent carer but maybe that’s why he likes this. He’s not making it a grand gesture, not making it a thing that he’s the one drawing for you. It’s just for you to enjoy. 

He’ll just make this second drawing and silently put it in your room, and he’s the last person you’ll suspect. 

But of course now that he knows it means something to you, he can’t get anything right. He draws your hair too curly, then not curly enough. He draws your nose too big, then too small. Your eyes end up crooked. He can’t erase too much because it’ll look sloppy, so even the drawing he gets almost perfect, he ruins with a few final additions at the end. 

It takes him an entire month for the next drawing, and it feels more like him that it’s been making him so angry that he couldn’t get it right at first. Maybe he had the wrong picture of artists. They’re always talking about pain, aren’t they, and that’s what he experiences too (over a drawing. Who is he?). 

He takes another few days to keep track of your routine, to monitor when you’ll be in your room. He can’t have it be as close as last time. 

He ends up doing it in the evening. There’s a time after dinner when most of the team stays together to watch tv, just talk, or play some games. It’s normal for some of you to wander off, come back or stick around a bit longer. It won’t be suspicious if he leaves for a few minutes and comes back.

Logan wants nothing more than to follow you when you say that you’re going to your room for the night; he wants to see your reaction. But he can’t. All he can do is go up to his own bedroom fifteen minutes later, lingering in the hallway longer than he needs to.

Just as he’s about to give up and go to sleep, you walk down the hallway, coming back from the bathroom.

“Logan!” you call all excitedly when you see him, and his heart skips a beat. Do you know the drawing is from him? 

“Look,” you take his arm and pull him to your room, “I got another drawing!”

He breathes out in relief; you don’t know it’s from him. He smiles when you hold up the drawing, already framed.

“Were you expecting to get another drawing?” he teases.

“Noo, but the frames came in a pack of two. Isn’t it gorgeous?”

Logan looks at how your eyes sparkle, how proudly you’re showing him this drawing. All the work he put into it was definitely worth it. It’s another picture of your face, this time from a new angle, and with your hair styled differently, curls coiled another way from last time.

Logan clears his throat, remembering to keep up his act. “It looks good.”

“Good?” you take the frame from his hands defensively, “It’s beautiful.”

He chuckles, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this type of thing. It is beautiful though.” He’s looking at you instead of his drawing.

“It is. And you don’t have to know much about art or drawing to see how pretty this is. I still can’t believe someone would take the time to make these for me.”

Logan remains silent instead of saying what he wants to tell you. Of course he would take that time for you – and you don’t even know how much time it really took him. If there’s someone who’s worth it, it’s you.

Seeing your pleased smile at something he made for you, he decides he’s never going to stop drawing you.

-

He’s on a roll for some time. He’s better at drawing again now that he’s getting in practice, and he makes five drawings of you within the next weeks. Logan watches the collection of them on your nightstand grow fuller, along with your smile that somehow gets bigger every time you tell him about a new drawing.

It’s a wonder you haven’t caught on yet, but you don’t seem particularly interested in snooping around to find out who it is. You respect the person’s privacy, but you’ve confessed to him that you’d still love to know. 

“I won’t try to find out who it is. I won’t push it if they don’t want me to know… but, I mean, anyone would want to know, wouldn’t they?”

You’ve adopted the nickname of ‘secret admirer’ for this mysterious ‘they’, after Logan used the term about ten times. You were reluctant at first, because the person isn’t calling themself a secret admirer – you’d just be putting words in their mouth. But after seeing how much more beautiful the drawings get each time, you’ve accepted and admitted that, okay, yes, the person must be an admirer.

Your secret admirer Logan is particularly proud of his latest drawing, excited to bring it up to your room tonight. 

But this time he’s sloppy. He’s stayed for a few post-dinner card games with the team, and it’s risky, because you’ve been saying that it’s your last game for the last two rounds. But he also knows that you always say that, and never mean it.

Logan gets up to leave, and he hears Scott convincing you to play just one more round.

It’s stupid, really, risking it like that. Even if he’s gone from your room in time before you come upstairs, you could easily guess that it’s Logan. He’s the first one leaving the round tonight, so your first assumption could be that it was him.

Maybe subconsciously he wants to get caught. He’s seen how you light up at every drawing, and no matter how much you respect your admirer’s anonymity, of course you want to know who’s dedicating so much time and work to drawings of you. Of course it’s crossed your mind that the person isn’t just doing this because they’re a good friend. They’re drawing your face because they think it’s beyond beautiful.

Logan doesn’t really know why he hasn’t told you yet that he likes you. He’s good at flirting, and he’s attractive – he’s not blind. But with you it’s different, there’s a bigger risk, for the both of you. The older he gets, the harder it is to open up to yet another person. You’re friends, and you talk about personal things, but confessing that he’s in love with you is different.

Not to mention this stupid recurring dream he keeps having, in which you find out it’s Logan who’s been drawing you, and suddenly your opinion of the drawings changes. You don’t like him back like that, and suddenly the drawings feel creepy if you think about him staying up late drawing your face.

He rolls his eyes at himself and gets the thought out of his head, taking the small envelope out of the back pocket of his jeans, smoothing his hand over it. He looks around, making sure no one sees him.

Logan bends down to slide the envelope under your door as usual, but one of the corners of the paper catches against the wall, and he quickly opens it to check the drawing isn’t damaged. His heart is beating so fast, he feels stupid. 

He can hear footsteps, still far away, but he can hear them. Logan messily licks the edges of the envelope to close it back up, but it’s not sticking. He can’t decide between shoving it under the door like this or leaving now and bringing it back the next day. He can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage now.

Then he hears it. He miscalculated how far the footsteps were.

“Logan?”

He turns around slowly, and it feels like the world has frozen.

You come closer, looking at him and then at the letter that he must’ve dropped. It hasn’t made it under your door yet.

He says something before you can, “I’m delivering for someone else.”

“Who?” you ask, bending down to pick up the envelope. If he wasn’t petrified, he’d enjoy the view of you bent over in front of him.

He breathes. He can’t have anyone taking credit for his work, for his art (you called it that recently, he would never). But his heart is beating so fast he doesn’t know what the fuck to do or say. 

This is exactly why he never wanted to do any of this. He’s making a fool out of himself and that doesn’t usually happen, especially not over a piece of paper. Logan is confident, cocky even, he can admit that, and has no idea how to deal with things like being nervous; he never has to. This really isn’t him.

You don’t wait for an answer and look at the envelope. You open it so carefully, gently taking the drawing out with your fingertips. You’re treating it with so much care he immediately feels better. Again, this isn’t for him, it’s for you. (Well, it’s for him too but it’ll take him a while to admit that). 

He’s drawn your smile this time. You were happy in most of the drawings before, but he focussed more on the eyes, and your lips only ever tugged up in a slight smile. 

This one is a full-toothed grin, mid-laugh. 

You two were drinking last weekend. He barely felt it but your tipsy, giggly mood was contagious. He couldn’t imagine himself feeling any other way but blissful when you’re happy around him. 

It started when Logan made a casual comment about something silly Scott was wearing that night, and he had you giggling. He wanted to immediately hear that angelic sound again, of course, and so he gave you every joke about your shared friends he could think of – all light-hearted, but he was still glad you two were alone. 

It was the stupidest joke of all that made you really laugh, some dumb comparison between Xavier and Caillou. You probably wouldn’t even giggle at it anymore now, but in the moment it was so funny you almost spat out your drink from the deep belly laugh he drew from you, holding onto his bicep so you wouldn’t fall over as tears formed in your eyes from how hard you were laughing. He wanted to engrave the image on his soul. At least he got your smile on paper.

You look up at him now, eyes filled with tears. 

“You drew this?” you ask.

He nods softly. He can’t say it but he hopes the drawings convey how in love with you he is. 

Suddenly, Logan feels like his heart has stopped beating.

You’re kissing him. 

You’ve leaped up, wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, and now your lips are on his. 

He feels your mouth falter, probably because he’s being a fucking idiot and not kissing you back. Logan places his hands on your waist to pull you further towards him. Then his brain finally catches up and he can do what he’s wanted to for so long. 

He takes your chin with two fingers and angles you so you can kiss him easier. He closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of your soft, warm lips against him. You’re soft and warm all over. Your top has slipped up over his fingertips at your sides, and he slides his hands further around your back to support you against him even better. 

Logan’s tongue pushes at your lower lip, and you let out the sexiest, tiny moan of surprise as you part your lips for him, granting him access. 

His tongue touches the tip of yours and from then on your cravings intensify. You feel your way over his muscular shoulders, his big biceps and over the hard planes of his chest. When you’ve had a good feel there, your hands grip his shirt in desperation and Logan gets even hungrier for you. He gently bites at your lower lip, but then you shriek into his mouth and squirm out of his grasp. He opens his eyes wide. 

You grip Logan’s forearm for support when you bend down in a panic, picking up the drawing you just dropped. You let out a big breath of relief when you see it hasn’t been damaged. 

“You made me drop it!” You slap a hand to his chest; it doesn’t actually hurt and it’s not meant to, but it leaves a pleasant tingle behind instead. 

“I didn’t do anything”, Logan laughs, and you shake your head at him with a smile.

You take him into your room where you make him sit on the bed while you stare at the new drawing in awe. “I didn’t know you draw”, you say without taking your eyes off it.

“No one else knows.”

You pretend to zip your lips, smiling, “It’s our secret.” Logan can tell that you like that. He likes it too. It feels much better to share a secret with you than to be keeping one from you.

“I’ll only draw for you anyway, so there’s no point in telling anyone else.”

“You’re really good. I love the drawings.”

Logan gives a satisfied hum at your words, “You inspired me. Can’t have you walking around all pretty and not expect me to try and recreate it.”

You straddle Logan and hover over his lap to hug him, “They’re the best thing anyone's ever given to me. Do I really look like that?” You say the last question more quietly, and Logan wraps his arms around your sides, careful not to bump your hand that’s still holding the drawing.

“You’re more gorgeous than anything I could ever capture, but I think it comes close. I didn’t change anything about you to make you more beautiful. I couldn’t if I tried. I just tried to draw you as accurately as possible, that’s why it’s so beautiful.”

“I really love it,” you say again, happily staring at the details of the drawing. Hearing you say the word love so much tempts Logan, but he doesn’t want to move too fast. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you. He does, however, want to kiss you again.

Logan carefully takes the framed drawing and puts it on your nightstand. You push your mouth against his before he can initiate the kiss, and he grins against your lips.

You don’t know how to put your feelings into words, so you’re kissing him instead. He pulls you down so that you’re not hovering over but sitting on his lap, and the mood immediately shifts to something different. Logan doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you’re ready then he’ll take anything he can get.

Your chest is pressed against Logan’s, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes. You may or may not be pressing your boobs against his body on purpose.

“God, baby, I’ve waited so long for this,” he says, already breathless, as his hands trail down your back, leaving goosebumps behind.

“You’ve waited long?” you raise your eyebrows, grinning, “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I met you.”

You see the look in Logan’s eyes changing as he bites his lip, “Who says I didn’t want the same?”

You giggle, “Why did it take us so long?”

Logan chuckles, readjusting you so that you’re even closer to him, “I was too busy to actually talk to you, just been starin’ at you so I could draw you.” His cheeks have the faintest red tint, and you kiss them, hugging him.

You whisper into his ear, “Then it was worth the wait. And anyway, it’s not talking that I’m interested in right now.”

He pulls you back to look into your eyes, then at your lips. “Where do you want me?” he asks. You giggle slightly helplessly; you weren’t entirely prepared to have a man like Logan at your mercy like this tonight.

“You can do whatever you want,” you say softly, kissing him.

Logan’s lips are hungry against yours, strings of spit falling between you two, but he pauses the kiss to lie you on your back. “Wanna eat you out,” he husks, “Been dying to know what you taste like forever, bub. Can I?” He reaches for the hem of your top, and you nod so that he can pull it off you, admiring what’s underneath. 

“Sometimes I make myself cum imagining that I’m going down on you,” you confess somewhat shyly, but you figure he’s been so vulnerable for you that you can share a secret too.

Logan smirks, and pulls off his shirt, “Maybe we can make your dream come true then.”

You move to sit up, but he insists on eating you out first. You both take off all your clothes, staring at each other with huge smiles on your faces for a few moments. You’ve never seen Logan this happy.

“Look at you, baby. So pretty,” he leans down to kiss your lips, then down your neck, all the way to your legs. He spreads them, lying down between them as he all but drools at the sight of your wet pussy.

You get nervous all of a sudden. “It’s been a while,” you tell him. He looks up, taking your hand, enveloping it completely in his much bigger one.

“You sure about this? We can wait,” he gently kisses your knuckles, and a warmth spreads in your chest, slowing your heartbeat down a little.

“I’m sure,” you nod, and Logan comes up again to kiss you. The head of his hard cock catches against the space above your clit, and you both look down between your bodies. When Logan looks back up at you, his eyes are desperately begging you. You place your hand on his head, threading your fingers through his hair as he moves down your body.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he mumbles into your thigh, kissing you there. You giggle, getting comfortable, your hand never leaving his hair.

Logan starts eating you out, his tongue gentle but determined against your clit.

“Taste so good, baby. Even better than I imagined.” You hum at Logan’s words, already feeling yourself come undone with his mouth on your wet pussy.

You sink further into the mattress when he starts sucking on your clit, licking into your pussy like a man starved every few moments, and your thighs squeeze around Logan’s head, and it’s even better than in his fantasies.

“Feels really good,” you tell him, pulling on his hair to stop yourself from moving too much, and Logan moans against your skin. Hearing your words motivates him even more, and he pushes two fingers into your wet pussy. He curls his fingers, rubbing up against that spot that makes you see stars.

Your back arches as you cum, Logan’s lips wrapped around your clit as your legs push harder against his head, and all he does is moan, revelling in the feeling.

Logan doesn’t stop licking your pussy until you’re tugging his head away by his hair, and he comes up for air with a grin on his face. You smile back, pulling him up to kiss him. You give yourself only a few seconds of recovery time before you make him sit down. You know you’d never have enough strength to actually make him get into a different position, but he lets you.

You push him onto his back, getting between his legs. You’re blinking up at him all prettily when you ask, “Can I suck your dick? Please?”

Logan huffs to himself because he can’t believe how hot you are, can’t believe that this is really finally happening. He tells you yes – he has no more words to describe how badly he wants this – and he watches you wrap your pretty lips around his cock.

It’s hard to grasp that it’s really you doing this right now – the woman he’s been into for so long. His cock is in your mouth and you look so gorgeous with spit running down from your lips, and all he can think of is all the dirty drawings he can now make of you, if you’ll let him.

He closes his eyes when you take him deeper, enveloping him with your warm, wet mouth. “Good girl,” he whispers absent-mindedly, too gone to say much more.

You’re not using your hands as you suck his cock, your spit trailing down on him, and you’re so eager. But it’s also late, and he sees you getting tired, eyes blinking slower as you pause to catch your breath every few moments. He also sees the determination in your eyes, and the absolute want, but he doesn’t want you to exhaust yourself. 

You look so sexy all fucked out, strings of spit connecting your mouth to his cock as you pull away another time, giggling up at him shyly when you realise that he’s noticing you getting tired.

“Just need a second,” you wipe your mouth, out of breath, and it’s not that you’re not incredibly hot like this, but he still wants to fuck you tonight and he’s not sure that will happen if you keep going.

“C’mere, baby,” he says, reaching out his hand.

“Huh?” you ask, taking his hand nevertheless.

“Get back here, baby. I’m gonna fuck you now, alright? Don’t want you tiring yourself out.”

You let him lift you and put you on your back, but you pout, “Wanna taste you.”

Logan grins, “I’ll cum in your mouth, princess. Promise.”

You smile at his answer, satisfied, so you lie back down, pulling your legs up to your chest. His cock looks huge as he jerks himself off between your legs, rubbing the tip against your clit, making you squirm.

“Don’t know if I can take you,” you bite your lip. You’re not entirely sure if you mean it or not. You definitely want to try.

“We’ll make it fit, baby, we’ll make it fit,” Logan assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth, a mix of your wetness and his precum between your mouths. You feel his cock at your pussy, “You ready?”

“I’m ready,” you nod desperately, letting him push his cock into your pussy. He pauses after a few inches, but you wrap your legs around his waist more tightly, and he goes deeper.

“Y’okay, baby? You can take it, right?”

You nod, unable to form words with your pussy stretched like this, a combination of pleasure and pain between your legs – but it’s infinitely more pleasure.

“That’s right. You’re my good girl, hm?” He kisses along your neck as he bottoms out, and you both moan when he’s got his cock fully stuffed inside you for the first time. He pulls out slightly when you whine at the stretch, but you scratch down his back to get his attention.

“I can take it,” you tell him, and you watch the look in his eyes darken.

He begins to fuck you, the pain subsiding more with every thrust into your wet pussy. You can barely take him, but it feels good. With your slight tiredness, you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine. 

You can’t believe that Logan – your super hot friend Logan who you’ve been fantasising about for so long – is fucking you. He not only feels the same way about you, but he’s been your secret admirer this entire time, taking hours and hours out of his day to make you smile. You’re the only one he wants.

And now he’s fucking you, fucking you well, and you feel so warm inside, not just from the sex but you feel warm in your heart, because of Logan’s care.

“You okay?” he asks, stroking a hand down your face when he notices you’re not entirely present. You nod happily, smiling up at him, and you can’t talk because you feel so good.

“Good, that’s good, bub, but let me know if it gets too much,” he says as he starts rubbing your clit, watches you nod while he’s fucking you so well, and he’s so big and so deep inside of you, “Squeezing me so tight, baby, feel so fucking good.”

You cum suddenly, letting the warm pleasure flow through your body as Logan keeps fucking you through it, rubbing your clit in just the right rhythm.

“That’s my girl, taking it so well,” he moans, breaths stuttering. You slump against the pillow after a few moments, with a soft smile on your face, and Logan pulls out.

“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he jerks his cock, and you sit up on your elbows immediately, looking him in the eyes with a smile as you stick out your tongue for him. He promised.

Logan moans when he cums, painting your face in his release, jerking himself off. He holds your head in place with his other hand, aiming for your mouth but you’re making no effort to catch his cum there.

“Such a pretty fucking face, princess, ’m cumming all over it,” he rasps, shooting more ropes of his cum all over your cheeks, jacking off onto your face.

You open your eyes when he’s done and breathing heavily, and you smile up at him. You open your mouth, taking the head of his cock between your lips to suck off the last drops of cum.

“Look at you, baby. Look so fucking pretty with my cum all over your gorgeous face.”

You hum, pulling your mouth off him and licking your lips, tasting his salty release. You brush a finger over your cheek, sucking it into your mouth to taste him more. Logan kisses you then, the flavour of himself mixing between your mouths.

He cleans you up gently, carefully wiping your face with a baby wipe and kissing every inch of your cheeks afterwards. You take his face to kiss him properly, and if you didn’t seem so tired Logan would be ready for round two immediately.

“Next time you could try to actually cum in my mouth,” you tease, making Logan grin.

“Sorry, baby. Got too excited. Couldn’t focus on asking you again if it was okay.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, “I liked it.”

Logan grins, “Oh I could tell you liked it, baby.” You lightly slap his chest as you giggle, pulling him in for another kiss.

You cuddle for a while, not saying much because you don’t have to. You’ve both waited for this for so long that you’re just enjoying the moment, enjoying that it finally happened.

You slip out of his arms to sit on top of him. You’re in nothing but panties, the blanket bunching around your hips. You lean your hands against his chest as you tell him more about how much the drawings delighted you. And Logan cares, of course he cares to hear that, but he’s also just a man seeing the woman he’s into naked for the first time still. 

You become quiet when you realise that he’s not listening, and you giggle, “Distracted?”

Logan grins, “Just a little fucking bit, baby.” His eyes don’t leave your body, and you laugh as you bend down to kiss him. He grabs your ass, kneading the flesh. When you slightly sit up again, your tits are near his face, and he can’t help himself. He cups your breasts, playing with your nipples, making you hum.

“I should draw these,” he looks up at you, “Should draw every perfect fucking inch of you.”

“You wanna?” You adjust how you’re seated in his lap, and you feel that he’s already half hard under you again.

“Maybe after I’ve fucked you again.”

You smile, feeling yourself growing wetter on top of him.

“Tomorrow,” he continues, and your smile drops.

“But you’ve got to get more familiar with the inspiration, right? If you’re going to draw me.”

“That’s true, baby. But I think you’re too tired.”

You smile bashfully, ignoring how your eyelids were drooping shut just a few seconds ago, “Okay, but then I’ll have more energy for tomorrow.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiles, pulling you off him to cuddle you again. He tucks you in and kisses your head. 

You turn to your side, taking one of the framed drawings and looking at it for a while. 

Logan watches you looking at it, and the sparkle in your eyes never fails to make him feel all warm inside. “Now that you actually know about it, I don’t have to draw you from memory anymore. I can study my muse in peace.”

“Aww, I’m your muse?” you beam.

“Of course you are, princess. You’re the only reason I’m drawing again.”

“I love your drawings so much.”

Logan clears his throat, and looks at you. “Well, I love you. So, I think that went into them.”

You look at him, pouting and then kissing him. “I love you too,” you say into his mouth. He grins against your lips, pulling you closer to kiss you some more. He can barely grasp that you just said that, but he’ll have enough time soon to comprehend how lucky he is. 

For now, he takes your hand, and asks, “The question might be redundant now, but do you wanna be mine? Be my girlfriend?”

“I’m already yours.”

Logan grins, takes you in his arms, and you’re still cuddling when you’re both drifting off to a peaceful sleep.

P.S. reblog with a comment and let me know your favourite moment/what you liked to get a drawing from Logan under your door tonight and a facial <33

gorgeous divider by @pommecita

watching Deadpool and Wolverine isn't enough I need to fuck both of them at the same time

jesus christ i’m foaming at the mouth

『Obsessed』

Sub!Logan Howlett x Dom!fem reader

A/N: haiiiiiii I take forever to write im so sorry but I'm real proud of this one and I hope ya'll like it because there is a criminal lack of sub!Logan content

Warnings: NSFW//18+, swearing, sub!logan x dom!fem reader, friends to lovers, mutual pining, Logan’s a lil perverted in this one (steals your underwear), unprotected sex (pls dont do that), oral (F receiving), Handjob, uuuh cum eating sorry not sorry this ones a lil’ nasty, and if I missed any please let me know! ps I only proof read this once so pls forgive me for any mistakes

Summary: You and Logan are left alone for the weekend to supervise the kids while everyones out, but he can't help himself from going a step too far with his infatuation with you

Word Count: 12K

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Logan didn’t like the word ‘obsessed’. He thought it made him sound like a creep - which, maybe he was, at this point.

He preferred terms like ‘infatuated’ or ‘bewitched’. Those sounded like much better words to describe what he felt for you. It was so overpowering that it may have even been considered something more than an obsession. Everything about you was intoxicating; you put him under your influence and kept him wrapped around your finger. You had him from the moment he saw you for the first time, you just had no idea. He remembered seeing you enter the room and lock eyes with him. He never believed in love at first sight, it was total bullshit. Total bullshit, until he felt it with you.

He did everything he could to conceal it, though, knowing he was not immune to rejection.

You considered Logan one of your closest and best friends. He was always playfully teasing you, sometimes to the point where your face became warm. It actually only took a couple weeks for him to be positive that he was head over heels for you. He started calling you things like ‘princess’ and  ‘pretty girl’, as if they were your first name. He liked to see your gorgeous smile when he joked with you and hear your laugh that sounded like music to his ears. You were the first thing he thought about when he woke up in the morning and his last thought before bed. He couldn’t escape his feelings for you if he tried. Months of admiring you under the guise of strictly friendship was starting to eat away at his self-discipline, though. It became harder to leave you alone. 

His attempts to be close to you in any way possible were becoming bolder. Playfully swinging an arm around your shoulder so he could be close to you and smell your shampoo. Offering his hoodie when he could see you were cold so that he could fall asleep with his face in it after you gave it back. Even Logan himself understood he bordered on being a total creep, balancing on the thin line between that and what he understood to be infatuation. He’d still let you push him over into either side, regardless. 

Things got so much worse - or better? - for Logan when you both found out you’d be in the mansion, alone, for the weekend. Someone had to stay back and help with the kids while the others completed a mission and you were always quick to volunteer your free time to help - another thing he loved about you. He volunteered the second you did, of course, earning an amused eye roll from Scott. It didn’t take a genius to see he liked you - you were just blinded by the idea that he couldn’t possibly see you as more than a friend and colleague.

“So, what are we thinkin’ for this weekend? Mario kart tournament? Guitar Hero battle? We’ve got to think of something to keep the little creatures entertained,” you chatted with Logan as you walked side by side down the corridor. He always found it amusing when you called them that.

“Maybe we can give ‘em each a gameboy and just lock ‘em in their rooms for the weekend.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice? Oh, maybe we can trick them into cleaning something.”

“You want to try to trick a group of kids with mutant abilities? You know some of them are telepathic, right?”

“Well,” you realized he was right and tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, “there goes that idea.”

“We’ll figure something out.”

He wanted to give helpful input or ideas, he really did, but he couldn’t get the idea of being alone with you out of his mind. You’d been alone together, yeah - on missions, errands, doing whatever - but never at home. Never in a place where you both had bedrooms - where there was even a possibility of anything. 

In order for there to even begin to be a possibility that something would come out of being alone with you, though, he reminded himself he actually had to be able to confess his feelings to you first. 

He was lost in thought, so much so that he didn’t notice you had asked him something until you had to snap your fingers in front of his face to get his attention.

“Earth to Howlett,” you giggled, “anybody there?”

“Hm? Yeah, yeah. Just tired.”

“Didn’t hear what I said?”

He pursed his lips and you understood that to be an answer before he even opened his mouth.

“I asked you to go gather some of the kids and figure out if they have any ideas for something to do.”

“Got it.”

A little while later, you met with him in the living room. You each had a gaggle of children behind you.

“Okay, everybody sit,” Logan instructed, but they were all chatting far too loud with each other to even hear him.

“Sit!” you yelled.

Instantly, every child in the room found a seat and went completely silent with their attention to you.

“Thank you,” you sighed, “alright, who wants to go with me?”

About half the room raised their hands.

“Okay, who wants to go with Logan?”

The other half of the room raised their hands.

“I guess that works out,” Logan shrugged. 

He let the kids drag him off to do whatever it was they would decide on while you stayed with yours.

After maybe fifteen minutes of back and forth amongst the children, the majority decided on baking treats.

“Really?” you were a little surprised when they told you because of how simple you assumed the task would be, “Awesome! Everybody in the kitchen.”

You thought you’d give the kids the box mixes of muffins and cupcakes as well as a couple of logs of frozen cookie dough and they’d take it from there. Unfortunately, that was not what happened.

Ten minutes into the activity, you were already having to clean cake batter off the walls and flour off the floor.

“Oh, nope - no, no raw egg, I already told you that! Spit it out, spit, go,” you scolded one of the kids and directed him to the sink when you saw him crack an egg directly into his mouth.

“Dear god,” you muttered under your breath.

Another little girl yelled your name and you turned around. One of the bowls of raw batter was in the air.

You sighed and rubbed your temples.

“Teddy. Put it down, now” you knew exactly which one of them was the troublemaker.

The child in question was smiling wide.

“If you say so, miss.”

The bowl instantly dropped with a loud echo and its contents splattered everywhere.

You wiped a glob of batter off of your cheek.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath, “Teddy, you’re going to clean all of that up or you’re spending the weekend in your room. Everyone else, if you pull anything like that, you’re doing the same. Got it?”

The children nodded and agreed in synchronization.

“Good.”

From then on, things seemingly went pretty smoothly.

You were chatting with a group of girls and helping them ice some of the cupcakes when one of them insisted she had to ask you a question.

“What do you do when you like somebody? Like…really like someone.”

She was one of the older girls, Alice, who was probably around seventeen. She looked away nervously and you smiled.

“Why? Do you really like somebody?” you lightly teased. You didn’t want to embarrass her, of course, but you thought it was cute that she came to you to ask.

“Yes!” one of the younger girls answered for her, leaning in to whisper to the group, “she likes Teddy.”

“Shut up!” Alice hissed, throwing one of the plastic whisks in her direction without actually lifting a finger, “I do not!”

“You write ‘A+T’ on everything!” the younger girl retorted, snickering.

“Okay, okay - leave her be,” you instructed, turning your attention back to the girl beside you, “I think when you really like somebody, you should tell them. It’s easier said than done, but you’ll feel so much better after you’ve done something about it instead of bottling up your feelings.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. Trust me, anything worth doing is scary. The worst thing that can happen is that they don’t feel the same way, and if that’s the case - there's plenty of people you’ll love in your lifetime.”

Alice nodded and exchanged amused expressions with her friend that sat on the other side of her.

“What?” you asked, laughing a little and looking between the two of them.

“So, is that what you did with Professor Logan?”

The both of them raised their eyebrows and giggled.

“W- um,” you cleared your throat, “what?”

“Oh, come on!” Alice rolled her eyes, “we may be kids, but we’re not blind.”

You narrowed your eyes at them and bit the inside of your cheek with your hand on your hip. After a moment of thought, you leaned down and spoke in a whisper.

“Not a word to him, understand? I swear, I’ll fail you both.”

“He likes you, you know,” Alice said, wiggling her eyebrows, “we can definitely tell.”

“Sure, he does,” you replied in a sarcastic tone and scoffed.

You’d had feelings for Logan for so long that you thought you’d learned to hide it well. Apparently not.

You considered him to be one of your closest friends. He playfully teased you on a regular basis, stayed up late to talk with you for hours, even held you when you cried - things good friends do. But his touch lingered when you brushed hands, you often caught him staring and he always stood so close to you - all little signs that made you feel as though there could possibly be something more. You figured that you were so close that if he really felt anything for you, though, he would’ve been direct and honest with you.

If only these two girls knew how you felt, you weren’t too nervous about it getting back to him. Kids started rumors all the time, you knew he’d take it with a grain of salt if one of them was bold enough to tell him.

You hadn’t considered how quick kids could be, though.

Logan was outside with his gaggle of kids, passing around a basketball with some of them while the others occupied themselves in the grass. The hot sun beating down on them was enough to make them sweat on its own but combined with the physical activity, it wasn’t long before everyone needed a break.

Logan sat on the grass to catch his breath, leaning back on his hands. Almost as soon as he sat down, one of the boys who had been playing sat across from him with two of his other friends.

“Hey,” he greeted them, squinting in the sun.

“I’ve got a question,” one of them said directly. He was probably about nine or ten.

“Alright,” he nodded, “shoot.”

“What do you do if you really like a girl?”

He quirked an eyebrow.

“You like a girl?”

“I never said that.”

“He does,” one of the boy’s friends interjected, “he’s always teasing her.”

“Shut up!” he replied and punched the other boy in the arm.

“Okay, listen,” Logan started, leaning forward, “first, you can’t tease a girl just ‘cause you like her. That’s not cool. If anything, it’ll make her dislike you.”

The boy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and tilted his head. He brought up your name in a curious tone.

“How come you do it to her, then? You like her and you do it.”

Logan feigned a confused expression.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, kid.”

“Dude,” one of the other boys raised his eyebrows.

“Dude,” Logan mocked him, “zip it.”

“Is that a yes?”

“ ‘Yes’ to what?”

“You like her.”

“No.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Nu-uh.”

“Yes.”

“Kid, I’m losin’ patience,” He huffed, taking a sip from his water bottle.

The young boy shrugged, “she likes you back, you know.”

He choked on his water and coughed, taking a moment to catch his breath. One of the other boys reached over and patted him on the back.

“Just went down the wrong way,” Logan wheezed, but none of them bought the excuse. His chest felt tight when he thought about the possibility of you liking him in any capacity that was more than friends.

“Anyway,” he continued with a deep breath, “If you like a girl, you should be nice to her. Bring her flowers, tell her she’s pretty - the classic stuff.”

“Gross,” the boy cringed.

He laughed and shook his head.

“So, did you give her flowers?”

“Who?”

The boy said your name again and Logan sighed.

“Bub, we work together - it’s not like that, alright?”

“Then why do you stare at her all the time?”

He pursed his lips and one of the boys stifled a laugh.

“I think she’s pretty,” he admitted, “I can look at her, that doesn’t mean I like her like that.”

They all giggled and began singing the k-i-s-s-i-n-g rhyme with your name and Logan’s.

“Okay,” he stood, crossing his arms, “if you three don't shut your mouths, I’m gonna hang each of you from a flag pole by your underwear.”

They all shuddered and didn’t say another word.

Later in the evening, all of the kids gathered in the living room to have a movie night. They were crowded on and around the couch with some on the floor or on bean bags. The coffee table was littered with popcorn, muffins and half eaten cookies. You were tucked into the corner of the couch with Logan, a fuzzy blanket draped over both your knees. Your eyes were focused on the movie but he noticed you shiver and draped his arm around your shoulder to pull you into him.

“You cold?”

“A little bit,” you answered honestly and pulled the blanket up further but he immediately unzipped his sweatshirt and held it out for you to put on.

“Logan -”

“Sh,” he held the sweatshirt open for you to put your arms through the sleeves, “take it.”

You sighed and obeyed, turning so you could do as he asked and shrug it on. When he saw you looking so cozy in his sweatshirt, he couldn’t help but tug you back into his side with his arm around you. He could hear your heart beat faster than it had before and he smiled to himself. Sometimes he thought you could feel the same way he did, but never wanted to get his hopes up. Neither you nor Logan could take your own advice that you’d given to the kids.

Somewhere in the middle of the movie, you positioned yourself to lay on your back with your legs over his lap and a pillow tucked under your head. By the time the film ended, you were fast asleep. Logan instructed the kids to take themselves to bed and they dispersed to do as they were told. A couple of them snickered as they passed by, seeing your legs on his lap while you snored softly.

When they had all disappeared from the room, he couldn’t help himself from taking a moment to just admire you. You looked so peaceful with your lips slightly parted and your eyes closed. You had the blanket tucked up to your chin with the sleeves of his sweatshirt covering your hands. He hesitantly reached over to swipe a strand of hair from your forehead and let his hand softly graze your cheek. He leaned down and tenderly planted a gentle kiss on your cheek, becoming enamored with the smell of your perfume that overwhelmed his senses.

“I really do wish I could tell you how much I love you,” he whispered as quietly as possible when he pulled away from you. He sighed and hooked one arm under your knees and the other around your back so he could stand with you against his chest. He began to walk with you to the stairs, pressing his lips into the top of your head every now and then. You sleepily mumbled nonsense into his shirt, pressing your face into his chest and softly giggling from the pleasant feeling of the warm cotton.

“You’re real tired, huh, darlin’?” he whispered as he climbed up the stairs with you in his arms, but you were silent again. When he finally got to your room, he opened the door and laid you gently into your bed. You immediately made yourself comfortable with your knees curled up to your chest. He tucked your comforter over you and you began to snore again, indicating you were probably out for good. It wasn’t a surprise that handling rowdy kids all day had made you exhausted.

Again, he stood for a second to watch you. He wanted so badly to just crawl into bed with you, wrap his arms around you and hold you to his chest while you both fell asleep. Your room smelled so much like you that he imagined your bed probably smelled even more heavenly. He wanted to bury his face in your pillows and be nearly sedated from the fragrance of your hair. He wanted to be surrounded and swallowed by you.

Well aware that his behavior of watching you sleep was weird at best, he turned to leave your room. As he did, though, his eyes caught something that made his palms start to sweat. Directly on top of your dirty laundry basket, like a cherry on top of a sundae, was a red, lacy pair of panties. 

He knew it was wrong. He knew it was perverted. Would you notice if they were gone? Would you suspect him at all? Still, he couldn’t help himself.

He picked up the soft fabric and looked back to be sure you were still asleep. Knowing you were, he held the garment up and suppressed a moan. They were nearly see-through. He pressed the gusset of the panties up to his nose and thought his knees might give out. He knew it was bad, so bad, and yet, he folded them and shoved them into his back pocket. He went back to give you another gentle kiss on the forehead and left your room, shutting the door behind him.

When he got out into the hallway, he could already feel himself stiffening in his jeans. He got to his room as quickly as he could, locked the door and instantly kicked his shoes off and undid his belt. He took your panties out of his pocket, tossed them onto his sheets and shucked off his jeans. He crawled into bed and picked the garment back up, pressing his nose to the fabric so he could smell you again. He could already feel himself leaking in his boxers from just smelling you. He imagined what you’d taste like if you let him have you, if you let him trace every inch of you with his tongue until you were begging him for more. The image of your head thrown back in ecstasy while you squished his face between your thighs filled his mind and his eyes fluttered closed. He reached down with his other hand to stroke himself over the fabric of his boxers for a second of relief. He got so hard when he thought of you that it almost became painful at times. 

When he thought he’d teased himself enough, he finally dragged his boxers down his thighs so that his hard cock could slap onto his stomach. He swore under his breath at the relief of being free from the confines of his underwear. With your panties in his other hand, he had an ingenious idea.

He wrapped the soft red fabric around the base of his cock while his hand guided it up and down. He was enraptured by the idea that by fucking a pair of your worn panties and brushing his cock along the same fabric that had been soaked with your slick, it was like being able to be with you in some way. He told himself that when he arranged the gusset of the panties to sit right on the head of his cock, his hips twitching up to press himself into the fabric with a groan. It was maybe the closest he’d ever get to the real thing. He imagined the soft fabric he was pressing himself into was your cunt, that you were dragging your wet folds along the length of him. He imagined what it might feel like to run his hands over your soft skin and be able to touch you how he wanted. He began to pump himself again with the panties in his fist, messily fucking into his hand and leaking on to the same fabric he knew you had been in. He panted while he continued his movements, squeezing his eyes shut so he could picture you with your hands on his chest as you rode him. He could see your messy hair framing your gorgeous face and your tits bouncing above him while he jerked his hips up into you eagerly. The repeated movement was intoxicating. He was nearly drooling from how rapidly his mind was racing with thoughts of you - spread out in his bed or sitting in his lap or up against a wall - anything about you spurred him on. It took less than five minutes for him to be spilling all over his hand and stomach with a growl, the fabric of your panties damp with his release.

He groaned in frustration at the mess he made, taking off his shirt to clean himself off and tucking the panties under his pillow. He really did feel guilty - maybe he could get them in the wash without you noticing so he could plant them somewhere back in your room. For now, though, he was definitely keeping them. He ended up falling asleep that night with the fabric balled up in his fist.

The next day - to avoid a repeat of the overwhelming mess you had to clean yesterday -  you assigned some of the older kids to help keep an eye on the younger ones. You meant to wake up early to do so but you’d clearly slept in, standing barefoot in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in your hand. You were still in your pajama pants and Logan’s sweatshirt. 

He couldn’t help but smile when he came down and saw you wearing it, the gray sleeves hanging off your shoulders.

“I’m never gonna get that back, huh?”

His voice caught your attention and you turned around, smiling wide when you saw him step into the kitchen. He was already dressed in his tank and blue jeans.

“Oh, did you want it back?” you raised your eyebrows, “ ‘cause you're definitely not gettin’ it.”

You shot him a mischievous smile and his heart felt like it would beat out of his chest. He felt a pang of guilt seeing your beautiful face while knowing he did such filthy things to the thought of you. 

When you turned back around to look at the group of kids, half of them were whispering behind their hands and giggling while looking between the two of you.

“What?” you laughed a little and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Nothing!” a few of them shouted in unison and you narrowed your eyes.

One of the younger boys, the one who talked to Logan the day before, raised his hand. He had a smug expression on his face when he made eye contact with him. Logan figured he knew what he was up to almost instantly.

“I know what it is!” the boy waved.

“Oh?” you looked at him expectantly.

Some of the other kids around him snickered.

“Professor Logan said he thinks you're pretty.”

You immediately turned to Logan, who was adorably red in the face - you couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or anger, though. You were biting down a smile, your face warm from the compliment. 

“Well,” you cleared your throat and spoke under your breath to Logan, “thank you.”

You were grinning uncontrollably now and the kids started to giggle again when they took notice.

“Okay, alright, enough - any ideas of what we wanna do today?” you finally asked.

Much to your surprise, they all shouted the same thing in unison. 

“Pool!”

You and Logan exchanged amused looks.

“Alright,” you nodded, “that was weirdly easy.”

“Get ready and meet back here in twenty minutes,” Logan instructed, “not a single one of you leaves without us, understood?”

They nodded and mumbled in agreement before excitedly running in different directions.

“So,” you were the first one to address the elephant left in the room, “you think I’m pretty, huh?”

“I, uh-“ he stuttered, trying to think if it was better to be honest or blame it on a rumor, “yeah, ‘course.”

He replied as if the answer was obvious. His face was sincere and you resented how much your face obviously showed you were giddy.

You laughed a little and the sound was replaced with silence. You chewed the inside of your cheek before speaking, unsure if you should even bring up what you were about to say. 

“You know, one of the girls told me something kind of funny yesterday,” you chuckled nervously and kept your gaze on the counter before you spoke again, “I don’t know why, but I guess some of the kids have it in their heads that you and I have a thing for each other or something.”

He froze where he stood. Well, telling the kids he thought you were pretty certainly wasn’t going to quell that theory.

“Uh, I - yeah, really weird, no idea where that came from,” he stuttered, scratching the back of his neck.

“Oh, me neither - me neither. I just - it was funny, is all.”

“Yeah, you know, kids love stories,” he nodded, “I’m, uh - I’m gonna go change.”

“Oh, right, yeah. Go ahead, I’ll meet you back here.”

That interaction bordered on being painful. 

You finished the rest of your coffee and went upstairs to your room to change. You picked out a two piece bathing suit and put shorts and a loose shirt over it before heading back down.

You waited patiently for the kids - and Logan - to come down and they were all ready within fifteen minutes. 

“Okay,” you fixed your sunglasses atop your head and clapped your hands together, “some ground rules before we go - no pushing, no running, no diving and if one of you drains the pool again, we’re all going back inside. Everybody got it?”

They agreed and you were laying in the sun minutes later, trying your best to keep an eye on everyone at once.

“Are you gonna go in?” you asked Logan, nodding towards the pool of kids playing Marco Polo.

He shrugged, looking down at his swim trunks.

“Maybe, but not until there’s at least less than fifteen of ‘em in there at once.”

You laughed and nodded, standing up from your chair. 

“Well, I’m sweatin’ my ass off - I’m going in,” you explained and pulled your shirt over your head. 

He sighed and watched you kick off your shorts. The swimsuit you were in was appropriate, of course - you were supervising kids - but just seeing so much of your skin made his mouth water. He thought about undoing the little ties on the side of your hips. He thought about your thighs, too - how soft they looked, how good he knew he could make you feel. He felt like he’d been blessed by luck just from looking at you, like it was a privilege to even stare.

His eyes followed your legs as you made your way to the edge of the pool. You jumped in and emerged from the surface of the water in seconds with your wet hair clinging to your face. He knew his staring was obvious but he just couldn’t help himself.  Preoccupied with staring, he never saw the inflatable beach ball coming before it hit him in the side of his face.

“Get in the pool!” one of the boys shouted at him and Logan picked up the inflatable ball, throwing it back into the water.

“Not feelin’ it right now.”

“Chicken!”

A couple of the boys started chanting the nickname and pumping their fists in the air.

“Chicken! Chicken! Chicken!”

He rolled his eyes and stood from his seat. The boys cheered as he took off his shirt.

You heard a couple of the older girls near you gasp and giggle excitedly. You followed their gaze to see Logan taking off his shirt and you laughed at their reaction - as if you didn’t feel the same way internally. One of them groaned and turned to you.

“You’re so lucky.”

“Lucky?”

A couple of the girls around you nodded.

“Yes!” she spoke again, “he stares at you, like, all the time.”

You rolled your eyes, “again with this? Guys, I don’t know what you think is happening but Logan’s my coworker - we’re friends.”

“Mhm,” one of them hummed suspiciously with a smirk, “sure, you are.”

“He was literally just staring at you,” another pointed out, nodding towards him.

He was already in the pool when you turned back to look at him, his wet hair dripping in front of his face. He was laughing with one of the younger kids sitting on his shoulders.

“I think you girls see what you want to,” you insisted and shook your head, “hey, if he ever tells me he likes me like that, I’ll let you skip your end of year test.”

The girls chattered excitedly amongst each other at your promise and eventually forgot about the subject.

You finally got out of the pool for good after about an hour or two, wrapping yourself in a towel and sitting back in your chair. Logan followed suit shortly after. You tried your best to keep your eyes off his body but god was it hard when he was dripping wet and looked so damn good. The trail of hair that started under his navel and went all the way down into the front of his shorts made you want to bang your head against a wall. Not to mention that when you looked at the front of his wet shorts, you could see the outline of his-

“Damn.”

You brought your attention back to his face when he spoke and followed his gaze to the ground. The shirt he had been wearing was completely soaked - collateral damage from a water gun battle. 

“I can run in and get you another shirt,” you shrugged and stood from your chair, slipping your shorts over your legs. 

“I can go -“

“Logan, it’s okay,” you insisted, “I have to grab a couple more towels anyway, just keep an eye on the kids while I’m gone.”

He put his hands up in defeat and slumped back into his chair, “they’re in the second drawer in my dresser.”

You simply nodded and slipped on your sandals, walking away. 

When you finally got back inside, you trudged up the stairs and down the hall to Logan’s room. You smiled to yourself when you cracked the door open. The whole room smelled just like his cologne. You found his dresser and immediately took notice of the little trinkets on top. One you recognized was a tiny plastic toy you’d taken out of your McDonalds happy meal months and months ago. You remembered giggling and handing it over to him, saying it was his early Christmas gift.

Another was a strip of photos you had taken in a booth on a field trip with the kids to the zoo. You picked it up and flipped it around, only to read your name and the date scribbled in Logan’s handwriting. Underneath was ‘It’ll always be you.’, written in black ink. You furrowed your eyebrows and flipped the photo strip back around. The first couple photos you remembered well - Logan’s arm around your shoulder in one, your tongues sticking out in another, but the last photo stuck out to you more than you remembered.

You were beaming at the camera, your shoulders tensed up while you leaned on him. Logan, though, wasn’t looking towards the camera. His eyes were on you, a small smile stuck on his face. Something about it made your chest hurt.

You sighed and put the photo strip down, remembering what you were here for. You opened the drawer he told you his shirts would be in and grabbed one before promptly pushing it shut. As you turned to leave, though, something in his bed caught your eye. You stopped in your tracks. There was a piece of red, lacy fabric sticking out from under his pillow. You really shouldn’t look through anything of his, you knew that, but you still couldn’t help yourself. The pattern of lace looked oddly familiar. You timidly lifted the pillow and your heart stopped. It was a pair of panties.

The lace looked familiar because they were your panties.

You picked them up and held them in disbelief. You remembered them being on top of your laundry when you saw them last. When you woke up this morning, though, you didn’t remember seeing them at all. Meaning, when he carried you up to your room last night, he must have pocketed them.

You felt the fabric between your fingers and recognized what had dried into it.

“No way,” you gasped, a shocked but amused smile on your face, “no fucking way. No way.”

You were giggling uncontrollably and staring at the garment in your hands.

“No way,” you repeated, whispering to yourself under your breath, “he jacked off in my fucking underwear.”

You probably should’ve been disgusted or creeped out or both, you knew that, but finding out a guy you had feelings for had been jacking off - assumably to you - with your panties felt like a win. Now that you’d put two and two together - the writing on the back of the photo and your panties hidden under his pillow - you figured you’d have to make some sort of plan to approach him about it. You stuffed them into your pocket and returned to the pool with more towels and Logan’s t-shirt. It was nearly impossible to pretend for the rest of the day that you’d never found what you did.

Once everyone had finished dinner that night and dispersed to get themselves ready for bed, you were left alone in the hallway with him.

“Today was fun,” you admitted, “even if my hair stinks like chlorine.”

“It doesn’t smell too bad,” he insisted and pressed his nose to the top of your head without a second thought, “just like summer.”

You found yourself feeling warm when he was so close to you. You cleared your throat nervously and found yourself staring up at him in silence when he pulled away.

“I’m, uh…I’m gonna go take a shower,” he mumbled with his eyes still locked on yours, “but I had a lot of fun today, too. I liked hangin’ out with you so much this weekend.”

“Me too,” you replied instantly, “we’ll have to spend more time together soon.”

There was a flirtatious tone to your voice that made him sweat, but he figured he was looking too much into it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked.

“See you tomorrow, bub,” you giggled a little, turning on your heel and walking to your room.

He sighed and watched you walk away. When he finally went off to his room, he decided his shower was definitely going to be a cold one.

You were pacing in your room as he got to his, your arms crossed as you tried to think of what the hell to do. You had to do something to make some kind of move. You were stuck until your last conversation with him replayed in your mind.

I’m gonna go take a shower.

You stopped pacing and got into your own shower as fast as you could. You threw on a pair of sweatpants and the sweatshirt you had borrowed from Logan the night before - except you wore nothing underneath.

You were knocking on his door minutes later, nervously rocking back and forth on your heels.

When he answered the door, he had only a towel around his waist.

“Uh,” your eyes immediately fell to his torso, “hi.”

“Hey,” he laughed a little when he noticed you weren’t looking him in the eye, “you need somethin’?”

You swallowed hard.

“Just wanna talk to you for a sec,” you answered.

He stepped aside to let you in and closed his bedroom door behind you.

“One minute,” he told you, stepping back into his bathroom and closing the door to get dressed. When he disappeared out of view, you reached behind you to click the lock on his doorknob.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t help smiling at the nickname, your stomach erupting in butterflies as he reemerged in sweatpants and no shirt.

“Uh, yeah, everythings great - I just had a question.”

You reminded yourself you had to be confident when you approached him. He sat on the edge of his bed and you tentatively stepped forward to stand in front of his open legs. He raised his eyebrows expectantly. You could tell that he seemed a little nervous.

“Logan,” you bit down a smile, “if I asked you something, you’d be honest with me - wouldn’t you?”

He shot you a confused look but nodded anyway.

“Yeah, of course I would.”

“Mhm,” you hummed and reached into the pocket of your sweatshirt, “so, why did I find these under your pillow?”

You dangled the piece of red lacy fabric in front of his face and he went pale and wide eyed.

“Shit.”

You were smiling like you’d won the lottery.

“I- I can explain, uh, about that -“ he was stuttering but you cut him short.

“Can you? Because what it looks like is that you took my panties out of my laundry.”

He was surprised you didn’t sound mad or disgusted. You were smiling, like this was entertaining.

“Uh…” his words caught in his throat and he coughed, “I, um, I wasn’t…I wasn’t-“

“Baby,” you said softly, leaning down and putting a hand on his knee, “it’s okay.”

You could feel his muscles tense under your touch and his eyes darted from yours to your hand and then back up again. He felt lightheaded.

“If you wanted these so bad, you could’ve said something, you know,” you muttered, still dangling the fabric in front of him.

“Yeah, right,” he said sarcastically and scoffed in an attempt to play cool, “ ‘cause you would’ve just given ‘em to me.”

“Well,” you stood straight again and held the panties in front of you so you could feign that you were inspecting them, “I would’ve let you do a lot more than jack off into my underwear.”

He looked absolutely mortified in a way you’d never seen before at the realization that you figured out exactly what he did with them.

“Aw, don’t be shy, sweetheart, it’s okay,” you cooed and got down on your knees in front of him, resting your elbows on his lap, “you just wanted me so bad that you thought fucking my panties was all you’d ever get, huh? Am I right?”

Your near mocking tone already had him growing hard underneath his sweatpants. He was almost sure he was having a wet dream.

Still, he found himself slowly nodding in agreement. 

“Wanted you so bad,” he finally admitted. His breathing was shaky.

“Do you still want me?” you asked, but he was nodding again before you even finished the question. Your chest swelled with pride and you were more than confident now in your approach. You gently held his face in your hands and you could see he was quickly turning red.

“Logan.”

“Hm?”

He was far too enraptured by you to actually say anything.

“Kiss me.”

His lips parted in surprise, thinking he must’ve misheard you. You dominantly held his chin when he didn’t move.

“I said kiss me,” you repeated in a firm voice and he groaned and gave in to temptation, hungrily mashing his lips against yours. It was loving and needy at the same time. He was eager to get his tongue in your mouth but his lips were soft and he was so gentle with you. He cradled your face in his hands just as you had done. It was a good while before either of you pulled away, too lost in the feeling of each other.

“What’d you think about when you did it?” you asked when you disconnected your lips. You cradled the back of his neck with your hands and he was practically melting from your touch.

“Hm?” Logan was so overwhelmed in the best way possible that he hadn’t even heard you speak - he was still reeling just from realizing you weren’t going to scold him for what he’d done and actually seemed to like it so much that you kissed him.

“What did you think about when you touched yourself for me?”

He couldn’t help the groan that escaped his lips from hearing you talk to him like that.

You giggled a little, amused by how little it took to have him half hard already. 

“Thought about - thought about bein’ able to fuck you,” he inhaled deeply, “thought about you on top of me and how beautiful you are.”

His complete honesty and the genuine compliment made your heart flutter.

“Oh, so you’d want me on top?” you inquired and slowly inched a hand from his knee towards the top of his thigh.

“Uh,” he closed his eyes and took another deep breath, as if he was imagining it at that very moment, “god, yeah.”

You were smiling so wide that your cheeks hurt. You had a wicked idea that had you wet just thinking it.

“Show me what you did with them.”

You dropped the panties directly onto the growing bulge under his sweatpants. He parted his lips in surprise and you sat back on your heels, waiting patiently.

“You - you wanna watch while…fuck,” he was panting and you hadn’t even touched him yet. 

You nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. He felt like he was on fire. 

“C’mon, pretty boy,” you mercifully placed a hand over the front of his sweatpants and his hips instinctively ground towards your touch, “for me?”

He nodded frantically, eagerly hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his pants and boxers as he lifted his hips so he could pull them down his thighs. When his cock sprung free from the confines of his clothing, your mouth started to water - he was huge. You had to remind yourself not to just give in - that you wanted to make him work for it.

“Here,” you dangled the pair of parties that had fallen to the floor in front of him.

He excitedly wrapped the fabric around his cock, closing his fist over it to pump himself. You watched in awe as he whined and whimpered from barely touching himself, his eyes never leaving yours. He was stroking himself at a slow pace, beads of precum forming at the tip and dribbling over his hand. As dirty as his actions were, you thought he looked like he could be the subject of a painting in a museum - head thrown back in bliss, his features painted by the golden yellow light of the lamp on his nightstand and his chest heaving as he panted.

“So good for me,” you said in a low volume and he groaned, “does it feel good, baby?”

He twitched in his fist and you could tell that your praise had him making a mess in his hand.

“Feels really fucking good,” he moaned and you had to resist the urge to nudge his hand away and replace it with yours. You wanted to taste him, even if it was just one swipe of your tongue over the head of his cock. You imagined that he tasted like his kiss.

“I thought about you too, you know,” you cocked your head and wet your lips.

“You did?” 

He seemed genuinely surprised, the motion of his hand only faltering a little.

“Of course,” you smirked, “Do you wanna know what I thought about?”

“Please,” he pleaded instantly, “I wanna know.”

“I thought about your pretty face, how good I think you’d fuck me.”

He groaned and leaned back on the elbow of his other arm.

“I think about you all the time,” you admitted with your eyes flickering between his face and his hand, “I think about riding you with your hands on my ass. I think about how much I’d love the scratchiness of your beard on my thighs if you ate me out.”

He was panting and whining every time you made a confession. You could see how desperate he was becoming and it turned you on beyond belief. With his eyes still on you, you began to unzip the front of your - his - sweatshirt at an agonizingly slow pace. The further you pulled the zipper down, the more he realized there was nothing underneath.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he loudly groaned before you even opened the front of the garment.

“I love how easy it is to rile you up,” you said truthfully.

“ ‘s not gonna be hard. I’ve been obsessed with you for a while.”

That was the first time he’d said it out loud - that he even liked you, yes, but it was the first time he’d used the word obsessed to describe what it was he felt for you.

“Obsessed with me, huh?” you asked softly as you began to shrug off the sweatshirt, “I can tell.”

You thought he was nearly going to finish just from seeing your bare chest. His hips jerked towards his hand and he squeezed his eyes shut while his jaw hung open. He moaned your name and you felt like you’d heard an angel sing.

“So - you’re so perfect,” he stuttered, opening his eyes and raking them up and down your body.

“You think so?”

You really just loved to hear him talk in between grunting and moaning your name.

“ ‘Course,” He nodded frantically, “I stare at you all the time, can’t take my eyes off you.”

That, you knew, but again - you still loved to hear him say it aloud.

“Love your voice, your hair,” he continued and nodded towards the sweatshirt that was now loosely hanging from your arms, “I gave you my sweatshirt so it’d smell like you when ya’ gave it back.”

“Really?” you slowly stood and he sat up straight, “I borrow them because they smell like you.”

It was the honest truth and you noticed his thigh start to shake the second the words slipped out of your mouth. Standing in front of him as he sat on the bed made him eye level with your chest and he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You held his face in your hands and he looked up into your eyes like he saw the world in them.

“Do you wanna touch ‘em, sweetheart?” you asked in a soft voice and he nodded, “go ahead.”

The second you said the word ‘go’, he already had his free hand on the small of your back, holding you closer while he latched his mouth onto one of your nipples. 

You let out a small whimper and he growled into your flesh, his tongue swirling and sucking.

“Logan,” you sighed his name and threaded your fingers through his hair.

“F-mm, fuck, can’t - can’t go sayin’ my name like that,” he swallowed hard and buried his face in your chest.

“You like it when I say your name, Logan?”

He groaned loudly, leaving wet open mouthed kisses. You could see the drool gathering in the counter of his mouth. He was moaning and whimpering into the soft flesh, feeling himself get closer and closer to the edge.

“ ‘m gonna come too fast if you fuckin’ do that again,” he tried to warn you but you swiped some hair out of his face. 

Maybe it wasn’t a good time to say it, but the three words that had been unspoken for so long threatened to escape your mouth when you had him like this. You tilted his head so he had to look you in the eyes.

“I love you, Logan.”

He growled animalistically, almost instantly cumming in his fist and making a mess of his lap and stomach while he rambled on.

“Love you - I love you so fuckin’ much,” he admitted, burying his face in your chest. He may have been embarrassed about coming so fast, but you were more than pleased that you made him finish so soon.

“Hey, maybe next time, you show me?” you asked and he raised his eyebrows.

“Next time? Oh, no,” his eyes were wide, like a kid in a candy store, “get on the bed.”

You almost told him to remember who was in charge, who made the demands, but you were far too excited to just be with him. You shrugged off his sweatshirt and laid on his bed. He crawled over to you after he cleaned himself up and pulled you in to kiss again. The warmth of your chest on his was intoxicating for him. His hands eagerly explored all the expanses of soft skin he had dreamed of touching, eventually stopping to rest one at the front of your sweatpants. Without hesitation, his fingers breached the elastic and he slid his hand down, only to realize you weren’t wearing anything underneath the sweatpants either.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?” he warned.

You playfully grinned, all the way up until you felt him drag two fingers right through your folds, sliding them up and down at a slow and steady pace.

“Logan,” you sighed, “fuck.”

He dragged the waistband of your sweatpants down and you kicked them off, leaving you as bare as he was. He sat back on his heels so he could take a good look at you. It was a tender moment in between passionate frenzies of hands and mouths.

“You’re everythin’ I ever dreamed of, you know,” he sighed and you could’ve cried from how sweet he was.

“Really?”

You were still enamored with each other, basking in the warmth of newly exposed skin. The air in the room was much different than it had been before, though. What felt like built up tension dissipated and was replaced by the excitement of getting to finally be with each other.

“Yes, really,” Logan replied in disbelief, as if even asking that was crazy, “you’re fucking beautiful.”

Even while he was sitting back on his heels, his thighs spread and his semi hard cock on full display, he still made you bashful with every compliment.

“You’re fucking hot, c’mere,” you eagerly reached up to press your lips to his and bring him down on top of you with your arms around his neck.

He moaned into your mouth and let you pull him down, reveling in the sensation of your hands moving to tug at his hair. 

“I wanna make you feel good,” he mumbled against your lips in between kisses while his hands kneaded the widest part of your thighs.

“You do,” you replied instantly, but he shook his head and pulled away a little.

“Uh-uh, I mean like this.”

Two of his fingers slipped between your folds again and found your clit instantly. He started lightly tracing circles around the bundle of nerves. Your back arched and you gasped, spreading your legs wider in an impossible attempt to somehow get more of him.

“Is that good?” he asked, eyes flickering from your face to your pussy and back again.

“It - ah - ‘s really good, you’re doing such a good job, baby,” you replied, whimpering when he started to trace his fingers even further down so that they could slip into you.

“You’re so fucking wet, Jesus,” he groaned, looking like he was going to faint just from the sight of his fingers becoming soaked when he thrusted them in and back out again. He moved himself a little further down the mattress to settle his face in between your thighs while he laid on his stomach. He wanted to watch you clench around his fingers up close and get a taste of what he’d been fantasizing about for so long.

“Logan,” you moaned softly when he curled his fingers, “think you - you’d feel so fucking good in me.”

He could feel himself already growing hard again against the mattress just from the words spilling from your lips. He was leaving hungry, open mouthed kisses from the inside of your thighs right up until his breath was fanning your aching cunt.

“Such a good boy,” you managed to pant while his fingers still worked at a relentless pace. His eyes were glued to where you were taking him, mesmerized by how wet you were and the noises you were making. 

You arched your back and whimpered when he pulled his fingers from you so he could spread your slick all the way up to your clit and circle around it.

“I know you wanna taste it, baby,” you noticed his intense stare, “go ahead.”

He retracted his fingers so he could spread you open with his thumbs, lay his tongue flat and lick you.

“Fucking Christ,” you swore when you felt the warm, wet heat of his tongue.

He moaned into you, grinding his hips down on the mattress for any sort of relief.

“Taste even better than I imagined,” he took a deep breath, “I think about this all the time.”

You couldn’t help the smug grin on your face, broken every now and then when a moan escaped your mouth.

“You get off thinking about eating my pussy?”

He hummed with his tongue still swiping up your cunt.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” you sighed, “what else do you think about, babe?”

Even just hearing the nickname from you was still enough to make his cock twitch.

“Like lookin’ at your legs,” he spoke in between licking and sucking, “thinkin’ about how soft your thighs would be around my head.”

You were turned on beyond belief when he confessed those things to you. Something about his devotion, how he’d do seemingly anything for you, ignited some kind of fire in the pit of your stomach. He even noticed how you immediately started to get even wetter.

“You like when I tell you stuff like that?” 

Your eyes were closed and your hips rolled forward to push yourself even further onto his fingers, even if he was already knuckle deep. You nodded in response, too distracted by the pleasure of having Logan’s tongue and fingers at the same time.

“I love watchin’ your hips when you walk” he muttered against you, “thinkin’ about getting to hold ‘em while you ride me.”

There was no way you could be turned on any more than you were. You were moaning and whimpering into a pillow when you started to get so loud that you feared someone would hear you. Logan looked up and smiled to himself, satisfied that he could touch you so right that you had to muffle the sound of your moans.

“I look at your tits a lot when you talk to me,” he started again, knowing how much you seemed to like it, “can’t help it, always thinkin’ about gettin’ to touch ‘em and put ‘em in my mouth.”

“I - fuck - I wear low cut stuff on purpose so you’ll stare,” you gasped, “wanted you to think about me.”

“God, I do, all the time,” he groaned before making obscene wet noises while he buried his face in your pussy. 

“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you confessed, “need to feel you inside me.”

He growled into you and muttered his response.

“I wanna make you cum on my face, first. I’ve been dreaming about it forever. After, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Mhm.”

Your head was swimming with all the ideas of what you could do to him. It pushed you even further towards your orgasm.

Logan was curling his fingers to repeatedly hit the same spot inside you and your legs started to shake. He could feel you tighten around his fingers, pulsing around him.

“Fuck, are you close? Please, c’mon, cum for me,” he pleaded in a desperate voice, still mumbling against your throbbing pussy. 

Hearing his voice beg for your release was enough for it to come, crashing over you in waves while you tugged on his hair to angle his mouth.

“Love you, I love how you touch me,” you confessed while catching your breath, “I’ve never been with anyone who’s been able to make me cum like that.”

Unfortunately, it was the truth. You’d been eaten out before, of course, but no one you had been with had actually thought about your needs in that way and if they did, they lick everywhere but where you wanted them. Logan was a different story. He’d eat you like you were the last thing he’d ever taste in his life. He buried his face in your pussy till you squirmed, as if he was starving. He worshiped the spot between your thighs - it was a privilege to even see you, never mind taste you. Tasting you on his tongue was something he’d been craving for so long.

“I love you,” he replied when he finally detached his mouth from your cunt, his chin and cheeks covered in you, “no one’s ever done that for you before?”

“Not till I came, no,” you answered kind of sheepishly.

He crawled up so he was above you again and kissed you, swirling his tongue in your mouth so you could taste yourself. 

“Get used to it,” he smiled and held himself up on his forearms, “I wanna do that every night.”

Your pussy was already throbbing again when he presented the idea. You were immediately lost in thought, imagining him between your thighs all over again, maybe while you’re sitting on your desk or riding his pretty face. You were brought back to reality when you felt the weight of Logan’s hard, leaking cock on your thigh. You looked down and raised your eyebrows.

“How are you hard again? Not that I mind.”

He laughed a little.

“Uh, you know the regenerative thing? It applies to all of me.”

“Wow,” you whispered unintentionally, “holy shit, am I lucky.”

“Nah,” he replied immediately, tenderly holding your face in one hand, “I’m the lucky one. I got the girl of my dreams in my bed.”

The more he sweet talked, the more you wanted to absolutely fuck him till you broke the bed frame.

“Logan?”

“Mhm.”

“Remember when you said you’d let me do whatever I want to you?”

He took a deep breath and nodded his head, almost shaking from the anticipation of being your toy.

“Lay on your back,” you commanded and he did so immediately. 

You caught the way his hard cock twitched when you swung your legs over his and straddled his hips, your cunt right behind where he needed you. You rolled your hips the slightest bit, moving yourself forward to graze his balls first. His hips jerked when you did and his hands instantly came to your hips and waist, kneading the flesh and gripping you so hard he might leave fingerprint bruises, ones you’d love to have because they were his. His hands slithered all around your body - your thighs, hips, waist, tits, neck, face, arms - in an attempt to memorize every bit of you. His favorite part of your body, if he was really forced to choose, would probably be your hips, tummy, and thighs. He loved how soft you were to the touch, how he could use your thighs or hips as something to grab onto. Still, this felt unreal to both of you. You never would’ve thought Logan would ever see you as more than a friend, so finding your panties in his room was like a fantasy come to life.

You inched yourself up a little further to finally settle yourself at the base of Logan’s cock, granting him the littlest bit of relief. 

“You’re gonna feel so good inside of me,” you told him. He was so big that you were sure he probably wouldn’t have to put in much effort to have you cumming around him again. You almost drooled thinking of how it would feel to sink down on him for the first time, how amazing it would feel for him to stretch you out and fill you completely.

He looked like he was in a daze, his eyes glued to you.

“I wanna make you cum again,” he confessed, “I don’t even care if I don’t, I fuckin’ love getting you off.”

That sentence alone could have had you leaking onto him before he even got himself in you.

“You’ll cum,” you promised, “I’ll be sure of it.”

He inhaled sharply and watched you grind your hips up to finally slide yourself up the length of his cock. He whined, a sound that was music to your ears, and used his grip on your hips to eagerly push and pull you back and forth.

“Careful, Kitty,” you cooed, “you’re gonna finish before we even start if you keep doing that.

He groaned, loud, so loud it almost startled you.

“Oh,” you held a smug grin, “you like when I call you that, don’t you?”

He ground his hips up into you and you gasped when he slid you over the tip of his cock and back again.

“Yeah, yeah,” he panted, “please, fuck me, please.”

You leaned down with your hands holding you up on either side of his head.

“Do you think you’ve been good enough to deserve it?”

He nodded frantically. You almost thought you saw tears forming in the corner of his eyes.

“I’ll - I’ll do fucking anything, need you so bad,” he begged and you couldn’t resist him when he looked so gorgeous underneath you - a tall, brooding, muscular guy like him absolutely pussy drunk the second he saw you naked.

You reached down to line him up with your entrance, keeping your eyes locked on his. His hands slid up and down your thighs and hips as you started to sink down onto him. Barely even in you, you could see Logan was practically trembling.

He slid his hands to the back of your neck so he could pull you down for a kiss, slow and passionate in a way that made your heart feel like it would burst. With his lips still on yours, you lowered your hips. He gasped into your mouth and his head rolled back before you’d even taken half of him.

“You’re so perfect,” you told him truthfully, whimpering when he bucked his hips up to push himself further into you.

“Look who’s talkin’,” he flashed a slight grin, his eyes trailing down your body.

You followed his gaze and realized he was staring at where he was almost completely filling you. You forcefully sunk yourself down to take the last few inches of him and his breathing became heavy.

“Feels good?” you asked and used a hand to hold his chin so he was forced to look at you. 

“More than that,” he panted, squeezing his eyes shut, “fucking amazing.”

“Open, look at me.”

He obeyed, hazel eyes glued to your features.

“Be a good boy for me, hm? Don’t cum until I say you can,” you instructed and started to slowly work your hips up and down.

He groaned loudly, whimpering and squeezing his eyes shut again.

“What’d I say?,” you grabbed his face again, “I said look at me, didn’t I?”

“F- mhm, you-you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he heaved, opening his eyes and gnawing in his bottom lip to try and keep them open. He wanted to stare, study and memorize every movement you made on top of him, but he knew watching you would only make it harder for him to keep himself from cumming. 

You started working up a steady pace while he kept his grip on your thighs. Logan was pushing his hips up every time yours came down, grunting and moaning.

“You feel so fucking good,” you told him truthfully, rolling your hips when he was fully inside you so that his patch of curly, short dark hair created friction against your swollen clit, “fill me up so well, baby.”

He could only let out a guttural moan, an intoxicating sound that matched the rhythm of his headboard hitting the wall. His mouth was hung open as he watched himself disappear inside of you over and over again.

“Aw, pretty kitty,” you delicately moved his hands above his head so you could interlace your fingers and hold his hands down, “you already look fucked out of your mind.”

His face and chest were flushed, sweat starting to dampen his hair. He watched your every move with a loving gaze. You both knew he could resist your attempt to hold him down easily - he just didn’t want to. It was the perfect angle, one where he could see your gorgeous face with your jaw hung open and your eyes on him.

“ ‘m yours, you know. Always - always have been,” he muttered between gasps as you sped up your pace.

“I’m yours too, Logan - you know that, right?” your smile was sweet, even while you were on top of him like that.

He couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore - the combination of your filthy words and beautiful body was going to send him over the edge if he didn’t try to concentrate on keeping himself from spilling into you.

“Ah, m-mhm,” he whined as a response.

You suddenly lifted your hips and let him slip out of you. 

“Words, baby,” you reminded him, “you have to a good boy for me if you want me to keep fucking you.”

His eyebrows were knitted together and his mouth opened as if he was almost in pain from not being inside you anymore.

“ ‘m good, i’m good, please - need to,” he was breathing hard and kneading your thighs.

“Need to what, baby?”

You knew exactly what you were doing and so did he. You wanted to hear him say it, hear him beg.

“Need to be in you,” he sighed, trying to catch his breath.

“I think I should make you work for it,” you told him, instantly having an idea of how he’d do it.

“Anything, I’ll do anything.”

“I know, sweetheart,” you were as smug as you could be “switch with me.”

You climbed off him and laid on your back, but not before you had a look at what a mess you’d made. The trimmed hair around his cock was clearly soaked, so much so that you could see the shine of what you left behind on his lower stomach - on that nice trail of hair that runs down into the front of his pants all the time.

“Fuck,” Logan swore under his breath when he saw what you had.

“Don’t get too worked up, kitty,” you held a mischievous smile and he tentatively crawled on top of you, his waist between your legs as he held himself up on his forearms. 

He grunted, “you’re still gonna call me that when I’m slammin’ into you?”

That sentence alone evoked a tingling feeling in the bottom of your stomach.

“Maybe once or twice,” you caught your bottom lip between his teeth, “but if you’re fucking me and I can still speak, you’ve gotta go harder.”

“Ugh,” he couldn’t help groaning - not out of disgust or annoyance, more so an expression of frustration for how badly he wanted to do that to you. He wanted to fuck you till you were speechless, maybe do so well for you that you’d leave a nice white ring around the base of his cock.

You reached down between your bodies to align him again and he slipped in immediately. Even with how wet you were, it was still a stretch. You locked your ankles at the small of his back, maybe out of instinct or to push him further into you - you weren’t sure. He tried to delicately fill you again, fearful that too much too soon could hurt you, but you pushed some of his sweat soaked hair off of his forehead and lovingly held his face in your hands.

“Go ahead, Logan, it’s okay,” you told him, knowing how much he loved to hear you say his name, “you’re not gonna hurt me.”

When he was fully inside of you, his hips flush with the inside of your thighs, he practically had you pinned to the mattress with his lower body. He buried his head in your neck while he slowly started to rock his hips. He was leaving wet kisses below your ear, biting and sucking your soft skin. You couldn’t help gasping and squirming, something that had encouraged Logan to pick up his pace.

“I-I don’t heal like you do,” you warned, “ those are gonna leave a mark.”

“Good,” he muttered against your neck.

You had your hands tangled in his disheveled hair and used your grip to tug his head up, hard enough to make him moan but not enough to really hurt him.

You were practically nose to nose while your hot breaths fanned each other’s faces.

“You wanna mark me up ‘cause I’m yours, huh?”

He hated how well you could read him. It may have been a blessing in disguise, though.

He growled and his nostrils flared, something you discovered you found incredibly hot. His eyebrows were furrowed and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked pissed. Except the noises he made for you proved just about the opposite.

“Mhm,” he heaved, “mine, all mine.”

That definitely built up the pressure in your stomach. You liked being the dominant one, but it was undeniably sexy when he took control.

“ ‘m yours,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck so you could kiss him. First, you actually kissed his cheek - you were so sweet sometimes that he felt like he would melt into you - then you pressed your lips to his. It was another hungry kiss, the kind that had your lips covered in each other's spit and left a string of saliva connecting your mouths when he pulled himself up. It was as if you were starving to eat each other.

“I love you,” he sighed, his hand grazing your cheek affectionately, “wanna be like this forever.”

“I - I love you too,” you choked out between whines and gasps for air as he knocked it out of you, “you feel even better that I thought you would.”

“Really?” he asked, kissing along your jaw, “you thought about that before?”

“So many times,” you admitted, “I figured you were big but Jesus.”

He groaned into your skin and held himself up again so he could look at your pretty face. You stared back, eyes traveling down his face and to the silver dog tags that hung around his neck. They swung back and forth with every snap of his hips. You wondered if he’d let you wear them some time so you could have his name around your neck and maybe have it dangle in his face the next time you were on top.

Logan kept his steady pace but it quickened when he could feel you using your legs around him to try and push him further into you. You knew the inside of your thighs would certainly be bruised from his hips slamming against you and it pushed you even closer to coming undone. He wrapped an arm under you as you were gasping his name and clawing at his back. He growled and cursed under his breath from hearing your pretty voice say his name over and over again. He had to make you cum first and soon because he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. 

He sat back on his knees and took you with him, using a firm grip to drag you down the mattress a bit and keep your legs on either side of him, all without slipping out of you. He kept the bottom half of your body laid on his lap, fucking you from a new angle that had your legs shaking. He hit that perfect spot inside of you over and over again when he thrusted his hips, feeling proud when he saw just how much you were enjoying it.You were gripping the sheets so hard that your fingernails were digging into your palms. 

“Fuck, you like that? ‘s good?” He slurred, his sweat making his irresistible body shine like he was a Greek fucking god.

You were speechless from how hard he was fucking you, pulling back and ramming his cock into you so hard that the headboard was slamming against the wall. 

“I-mhm,” you really did try to say something, anything, but all that came out was a high pitched moan.

“Guess ‘m doing it right then, if ya’ can’t talk” he muttered with a short laugh, referring to what you’d told him earlier. 

“M-mhm,” you hummed, eyes squeezed shut.

He started to trace slow circles around your clit, staring in awe at your swollen pussy. He leaned back a little and spat on it so he could spread his saliva all over your cunt.

“Oh, my god, L-Logan,” you gasped, feeling the pressure in your stomach build higher and higher.

“Need ya’ to cum on me,” he panted, his mouth hanging open as he watched your tits bounce with every thrust, “gotta feel it.”

“ ‘m gonna -“

“C’mon, baby, c’mon, please,” he begged, desperate to see you pulse around him.

His pleading words pushed you over the edge and you grabbed his arms, digging crescent shapes into his skin that disappeared in seconds. Your back arched and your eyes started to water as he worked you through your orgasm, his fingers staying exactly where they were.

“ ‘s too much, too - ah,” you whined and gasped while you weakly tried to push his hand away, but he only shook his head.

“Uh-uh, baby,” he told you, “jus’ one more - just wanna get one more outta you.”

You could feel a warm tear fall down the side of your face from the overstimulation. You were cumming again after a few swipes of his fingers. 

His thrusts became sloppier with every whimper of yours that echoed in the room and he came with a loud groan when he felt you spasm around him, leaning down to bury his face in your neck as he spilled into you.

“Love you so much,” he sighed into your skin, breathing heavily.

“I love you too,” you exhaled, pressing an innocent kiss to his cheek.

He sat up and slowly pulled himself out, watching a mix of his cum and yours drip out of you and onto the sheets.

“C’mere,” he panted, laying on his stomach and dragging your thighs to lock around his head.

“Logan, what are you d-”

Before you could ask what exactly he was doing, he shoved his tongue as far as he could inside of you, dragging it up and around your pussy, even the inside of your thighs.

“Fuck - ah,” you gasped and grabbed his hair, tugging every time he grazed your clit.

When he finally pulled himself off you, he wiped his cheeks and chin with the palm of his hand so he could lick it clean.

“Jesus christ,” you let out a short laugh.

“Just wanted to clean you up,” he explained, crawling back onto the bed to wrap his arms around you. 

You were both starting to nod off, much too exhausted to get dressed or clean the mess you’d made of his sheets. He kissed your shoulder, the back of your neck and the side of your face, pulling you as close as possible. Before you let exhaustion overtake you completely, you felt Logan mumble into your hair.

“I Iove you, sweetheart.”

You smiled wide, laying your arm over his.

“I love you, too.”

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

A/N: Thank you sm for reading!! pls like and reblog if u enjoyed :3 also, as always, I am still working on inbox requests <3

JENNIFER'S BODY (2009) dir. Karyn Kusama

reading this altered my DNA i am now a changed woman

Sharing is caring

✧ Logan Howlett x reader x Peter Parker

✧ summary: Your new teammate Peter Parker has a huge crush on you, and your boyfriend Logan has always wanted to watch someone else fuck you. It’s Peter’s birthday and Logan decides to share.

✧ warnings: smut 18+, mmf threesome, oral, unprotected piv, so much cum lol, Peter is very pathetic lmao (and not very experienced) and more of a sub, Logan is dominant and reader is dom-ish for Peter but sub-ish for Logan, little bit of say gex 😋 (oral, Logan receiving), pet names (my girl, good girl/boy, baby, bub), implied age gap (Peter is the youngest – didn’t mention a specific age but early 20s-ish, reader is a few years older, Logan is obv the oldest), Peter being a nerd, lots of teaching Peter (mostly how to go down on each other), also the fic starts with smut right away lol

✧ note: idek if anyone else is interested in this character constellation and needs it as much as i do but they’re my two biggest marvel crushes (in completely different ways) so i had to!!!!! like hellooo😵‍💫 and i really love this omg

✧ word count: 7.5k oops

-

You’re on top of Logan, riding him like your life depends on it. 

Logan’s so good in bed that you usually just let him pamper you; you both like it that way. It’s also what makes the times when you’re on top even more special. Your boyfriend is struggling not to cum in you yet, fingers indenting your hips where he’s grabbing you hard. 

“You feel so fucking good, baby, such a good girl,” he groans underneath you. 

You grin as you lean down to give him a sloppy kiss, pulling away before he’s done with you so you can resume bouncing up and down in his lap.

Logan slides his hand between your legs, beginning to rub your clit as he feels you clenching around him tighter. 

You’re so close.

You’re so fucked out that you barely register the door to your bedroom opening. 

“Hey, do you know if– oh god, sorry!” you hear Peter’s voice, and before you can catch a glimpse of him the door shuts with a bang.

It takes a few moments for your heartbeat to calm down and for you to realise what just happened. Peter walked in on you fucking your boyfriend. Innocent, nervous, adorable Peter Parker – new recruit at the mansion. You’ve only just barely befriended your new teammate and you’re not sure your friendship can handle him catching you like this.

You look down at Logan for the first time, only to see him smiling. 

“He did that on purpose,” he chuckles, hands still resting on your hips as if he’s ready for you to start right back up. You stay on top of him with his cock nestled deep inside you, pulsing, but you can’t get yourself to focus on the pleasure of it.

“He’d never do something like that on purpose. He’s way too innocent for that. He wasn’t meant to see us like that – I bet he’s traumatised!”

Logan laughs again, “Traumatised because he’s not the one fucking you maybe, sure.”

Your mouth hangs open at Logan’s accusation – Peter sees you as a friend, nothing more! You doubt he even thinks about sex, let alone about having sex with you. 

Rising to your knees, you let Logan slip out of you, his cock slapping against his abs with a dull, wet smack, a mix of his precum and your wetness smearing over his skin.

“What? We’re stopping cause of him?” Logan grabs your hand, “He’d get what he wants.”

“Logan,” you warn, somewhat seriously. He’s making Peter out to be someone he really isn’t.

He smiles, adjusting your hips so you’re hovering over him again, jerking his cock and positioning the tip at your entrance. You smile down at him – it’s hard to resist when he looks so good and your pussy is still wet and not yet satisfied.

“Peter did that on purpose, bub,” he repeats, breath becoming laboured as you sink down on him, “You’re not telling me you’ve been oblivious to his crush on you all this time, right?” 

You involuntarily clench your pussy around him, closing your eyes so you don’t have to face looking at him after that. But Logan’s smirking – you don’t have to open your eyes to know that; you can practically hear it. He jerks his hips under you, starting to fuck into you from below.

“Y’like that, baby? Spider-Man’s got a crush on my girl. You don’t know that?”

It almost feels like you’re cumming with how much wetter you get at his words, and you manage to open your eyes to climb off him properly this time, lying down next to him, burying your face into the pillow to hide.

“Noo,” you squeal, though it comes out muffled.

Logan slaps your ass, keeping his hand there to grab your flesh, “Uh-uh, baby. You can’t squeeze around my cock like that and then run away.”

You giggle, leaning up to look at him, “That was just because I was sitting on your big dick. It had nothing to do with Peter.”

“Suure, bub, sure. Can I keep fucking you then?”

You nod, scooting closer to him, both of you on your side. Logan hikes your leg over his hip and slowly thrusts into you as your limbs tangle together. He spits on his hand to rub your clit messily, the way he knows is enough when you were already this close to an orgasm just moments earlier.

“You’re the only one I want, Logan,” you tell him in a quiet voice, distracted by how good he feels inside you as he fucks you, playing with your puffy clit.

“I know that, baby, I know that. I know you’re my girl. My perfect, pretty girl. Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy that someone else has a crush on you. Can’t expect Peter to be blind.”

You cum around his cock then, moaning into his skin as he fucks you through your orgasm, filling you with his own load seconds later.

Logan drops the topic of Peter while you cuddle afterwards, and it’s hard to keep thinking about it when you’ve got your gorgeous, beefy boyfriend next to you, your hand buried in his hair as you massage his scalp the way you know he likes.

It’s when Logan says he’s going downstairs to get you some water that you remember Peter.

“Tell him I’m sorry if you see him.”

“Sure, bub,” Logan says dismissively, kissing your knee with a teasing grin as he gets off the bed. You suppose he’s right – you have nothing to be sorry for. It’s Peter’s fault for walking in without knocking.

But you can’t help but feel bad. He’s an adult, only a few years your minor, but he seems so innocent. He likes you – you can agree with that. He admires you; that much is obvious too, but you don’t know if calling it a crush is an exaggeration. If Logan is right and Peter has a crush on you, you’re sure it’s nothing sexual.

-

Logan can sense Peter from a mile away. Peter is pacing up and down in the kitchen. Logan smiles at the floor as he enters the room.

Spider-Man’s face is flushed – whether it’s from embarrassment or arousal, Logan can’t tell. But the bulge in Peter’s sweatpants assures Logan that he was right in his assumption in the first place. He turns to the sink to pour a glass of water to take upstairs, giving Peter the time to adjust himself.

“My girl says she’s sorry,” Logan says in amusement, turning around, “Didn’t mean for you to see us like that.”

“What? I– no, I’m sorry. I should have knocked,” Peter stammers.

“That’s what I told her.”

Peter doesn’t reply, having a stare contest with the floor so that he doesn’t have to meet Logan’s eyes.

Logan chuckles, “So why’re you in the kitchen and not in your bedroom?”

Peter doesn’t miss the sexual implication. “I feel bad.”

“What, you think people don’t jerk off thinking about their crush just because that person is in a relationship? It’s just in your head, bub, you can do what you want.”

Peter looks up. It’s not that he feels bad towards Logan; he feels bad towards you. But if Logan thinks that way and you’re his girlfriend, maybe that means you share his opinion. Peter is too lost in thought to reply to Logan.

“Suit yourself,” Logan says as he leaves the kitchen. 

-

“Did you see him?” you ask Logan when he comes back.

“Yeah, said he’s sorry, he should have knocked.”

“And he didn’t seem disturbed?”

Logan laughs out loud at your question, “No, baby, don’t worry. He’s not disturbed. His only problem seemed to be how hard he was.”

Your mouth falls open, “Really?”

“Maybe he’s not as innocent as you thought after all, bub,” Logan smirks, pulling you closer.

That revelation turns you on more than you care to admit, to yourself or to Logan.

-

It’s Peter’s birthday a few weeks later and he’s happy as long as he gets to spend it with you. 

He’s not expecting you to get him anything, but you get him a Lego set that he’s been wanting for months. It’s something he’s mentioned to you only in passing and he can’t believe that you remembered.

You make it so hard for him to see you only as a friend when you’re this attentive. To be fair, he’d probably fall in love with anyone who gives him Lego, but he already liked you before. If only your boyfriend wasn’t the most attractive, masculine man in the entire world who, even though Peter’s confident in his skills, could probably maim Peter without any effort at all.

He’s not sure if it’s true, but you’ve told Peter that Logan is busy today, so he can’t join you for Peter’s birthday lunch. He introduces you to his friends and his aunt that have come to his small celebration, and he fantasises that surely some of them must think you and him have a thing going on. May definitely gives him a look when she sees how gorgeous you are, but she already knows all about Peter’s hopeless crush on you.

You kiss Peter’s cheek when everyone leaves, letting him blush in peace as you go up to your bedroom. 

You told him you’d watch a film with him tonight but you seem to have forgot. It’s evening already and he wouldn’t want you to stay up too long for him if you watched the film later. Even if you did forget, he’s grateful he got to spend the day with you.

He’s about to bring his best gift – the one you gave him – upstairs and to his room.

“You like it?” Logan’s voice sounds behind Peter.

“I love it. I’ve wanted this for ages,” he grins.

“I’m glad you appreciate it. She made me threaten a twelve-year-old over it. It was the last set they had at the store.”

Peter grows even fonder of you. He knows he must be blushing, but he also knows there’s no point in hiding it – not since the night he walked in on you and Logan having sex. He’s been hoping Logan didn’t tell you about their run-in afterwards, although he knows he can be a little obvious regardless. It’s hard to hide a crush as big as the one he has on you.

Logan clears his throat, folding his arms, all those muscles bulging, “I’m not the best with material gifts but I’ve got something else for you.”

“Yeah?” Peter’s wary. Logan and him aren’t exactly friends. He wasn’t even expecting you to give him a gift.

“I know you wanna fuck my girl.”

Peter gulps at Logan’s directness, starting to stammer out a few words that make no sense.

“Y’don’t have to deny it. Can’t blame you, can I? You wanna live out your fantasy?”

Peter finds it hard to imagine that this isn’t a trap or some sick joke. “No–no, of course not. She’s your girlfriend and I’d never, I mean, she’d never cheat on you and I’d never try anything. I respect you so much–”.

Logan cuts him off, “Calm down, bub. This isn’t a trick. I’m asking if you wanna fuck my girl for your birthday. We both had the idea,” Logan smiles, and he doesn’t have to wait for a verbal answer to know that Peter wants it – the gleam in his eyes tells him enough, “C’mon. She’s waiting in your room.”

Peter abandons the Lego box on the floor. He couldn’t care less if some student found it and took it for themself. Peter’s on his way to better things.

-

Peter doesn’t let himself believe it until Logan opens the door to his bedroom, and there you are. You’re sitting on his bed – something Peter has imagined many times but never even dreamt of seeing in reality – in the most gorgeous set of lingerie he’s ever seen (not that he’s seen many in real life… or any).

“Hi,” he waves awkwardly, unsure whether to try and hide his growing erection. You’re half-naked only a few feet away from him, and this is better than all of his wet dreams about you combined.

You’re grinning, first at Peter and then at Logan, who closes the door behind Peter.

Logan takes a step forward to bend down and kiss you. It’s a short but sloppy kiss, Logan’s hand resting on your cheek. He looks back, chuckling at how desperate Peter must already look, and sits down in the chair near the bed.

“Hope you don’t mind, I’ve made myself comfortable,” you bite your lip. Even your voice alone could make Peter cum.

“No no no, not at all. You look so gorgeous. I never thought I’d get to see someone look so sexy in real life.”

You giggle and it feels heavenly to be making you laugh like that. You lift your hand for him to take. He gasps when his hand touches yours, and you pull him to the bed with you. He feels like hyperventilating just from being so close to you in nothing but underwear. Peter wills himself to be strong; he can’t embarrass himself and cum right away.

“You know, Logan’s been trying to tell me for a while that you might have a tiny crush on me, and I didn’t believe it at first but…”

Peter laughs nervously before you can finish your sentence, but you don’t have to. Everyone in this room knows how much Peter likes you. All of Xavier’s school probably knows – teachers and students.

“Yeah,” Peter says weakly, cheeks hot.

 “Logan and I thought this could be a nice present for your birthday, if you want. Cause I think you’re cute too, and Logan doesn’t mind sharing me for one night.”

It hurts a little that you only find Peter cute, but he’ll take whatever he can get. Clearly he’s cute enough to fuck, and that’s all that really matters right now.

“Of course I want to, so what are we doing?” Peter doesn’t mean for it to come out so stupidly. He knows you’re going to have sex, he just doesn’t know the details.

“I’m gonna get you nice and hard first,” you say it with a smile, looking down at his lap, knowing exactly that he’s more than hard enough already, “and then Logan’s gonna join us and you can both fuck me at the same time. Does that sound alright?”

Peter grins. “More than alright. I don’t know if I’m gonna last long but I only need a few seconds before I can get hard again,” he tells you proudly, before he remembers that your boyfriend has healing abilities too, far more complex than Peter’s. You’re probably used to going endless rounds. Now he just feels a bit silly for admitting that he can’t last long. 

Peter turns to the side to face Logan. He’s manspreading, arms folded cockily in front of his chest, and it’s unnerving how a single person can ooze that much confidence. Although, if he looked like Logan and had a girlfriend like you, Peter’s sure he would be less insecure too.

“Have you had sex before?” you ask Peter all kindly, and he blushes thinking about the image of him you apparently have in your head. He’s not that experienced, but he’s not that innocent either.

“Yeah,” is all he manages to say at first.

“What have you done?” you ask him, gently resting your hand on his jaw, thumb trailing over Peter’s bottom lip. He stops himself from licking it.

“I’ve, uh, been inside of a woman before and I’ve, like, fingered her. My ex-girlfriend.”

You smile at the unnecessary piece of information, “That’s it? You’ve never had your dick sucked?”

Peter shakes his head, feeling like he’ll cum just from your words, “No, and I’ve never gone down on a woman.”

“You wanna?”

He nods his head so eagerly that it makes you giggle again.

“Maybe later,” you tell Peter, your hand dropping back to your lap.

“You can eat her pussy after I’ve cum in it,” Logan says with a smirk. You give him a look, turning to assure Peter.

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to do that.”

Peter looks between you two, “I don’t mind! I’m up for anything.”

You smile, moving to straddle him as you hum, “Good boy.”

He tenses underneath you, eyes screwed shut, and he can’t even enjoy the way he cums as soon as you settle on top of him, your hands on his shoulders. Hot embarrassment floods Peter’s body, and he feels like he might cry.

“Aw, it’s okay,” your voice is nothing but sweet with not even a hint of amusement, and Peter dares to open his eyes. Your face is inches away from his, and your closeness makes him feel less embarrassed.

“You like me that much, hm?” you continue, and Peter hears a quiet laugh from Logan, but he doesn’t care about his opinion, only yours, “I’m flattered you do. Glad you like your gift.”

“I really thought the lego set was my favourite present,” he says. This time he cracks a smile too as Logan and you giggle at his words.

“Let’s get you out of your clothes, okay?”

You get off Peter after he nods, pulling off his shirt. Peter stands up as you kneel in front of the bed to pull off his jeans, biting your lip when you feel how sticky his cum-stained boxers are.

“Look at what a mess you’ve made, baby. So cute.”

Peter swears you’ll stop associating that word with him by the end of the night, although he’s starting to like you calling him that. He takes one glance at you on your knees for him, and he has to look away in fear of cumming again immediately. 

“I know,” Logan tells him, and Peter sees then how hard he already is too. Peter can’t believe Logan gets you like this every night, but for now he smiles at him as they silently bond over how attracted to you they both are. It’s impossible not to be.

Logan’s eyes drift down to Peter’s hard cock, and you’re grinning back up at your boyfriend, “Look how big he is, baby. Almost the same size as you.” The joy in your voice makes Peter stand a little bit taller. He’s proud that you like his dick. It’s probably the proudest moment of his life thus far.

You pull Peter back on the bed, sitting down as you lean back against your hands, “You wanna unwrap your present?”

Peter nods, smiling at the goosebumps that erupt on your flesh as he pulls at the ribbon that you’ve wrapped around your waist. He leans over to place it on his nightstand – he’s keeping that forever.

When he sits down in front of you, the sweet smell of you hits him. He looks between your legs, and there’s a wet spot on your panties. All because of him? He keeps feeling prouder and prouder.

“Thought about this so many times. Jerked off at least three times every single day since I walked in on you two.”

You and Logan smile at each other. He asks Peter, “You did that on purpose?”

Peter doesn’t turn to face Logan, the blush that has only just subsided flaring back up. “N-no. Of course not.” He knows neither of you believe his lie. He couldn’t help himself.

“Don’t worry. She liked it too,” Logan informs him, and Peter’s eyes go wide.

“You’re a handsome boy, Pete,” you shrug, brushing your hand through his hair and he hums at the nickname.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks finally, cock already so hard he can barely think, and you haven’t even done anything yet.

“Go ahead,” Logan says, but Peter pays him no mind.

“I wasn’t asking you,” he says bravely, and your eyes go to those of your boyfriend as you raise your eyebrows.

“Told you he’s got it in him,” you say, pulling Peter close to press your plush lips to his. It’s like an explosion of endorphins, and Peter knows that from this moment on he can die happy. You pull him closer, kisses getting wetter as the sound of them takes over the room, and it’s the hottest thing Peter has ever experienced.

“Here,” you briefly pause, taking his hand and guiding it to the clasp of your bra at your back. He fiddles with it for a few seconds, and you want to give him a chance, but then the bed dips with the weight of Logan, and he opens your bra with ease.

Peter doesn’t know when he took his clothes off, but Logan is naked except for his boxers. He looks nowhere nearly as good as you, of course, but his muscles aren’t exactly an unwelcome sight.

“Isn’t my girl so pretty, Pete?” Logan asks, pulling the straps of your bra down your arms, taking off your bra.

“She’s gorgeous,” Peter rasps, “She’s perfect.” Logan hums in agreement.

Peter has imagined your tits too many times to count, and yet they’re even better than anything he’s fantasised about. He’s too nervous to touch you, but you take his shaky hands, putting them on your breasts.

“Oh my god,” Peter whispers, breathlessly cupping and squeezing at your tits as his cock leaks with precum. He sees you biting your lip as you look at his lap, and Logan takes Peter’s hands off your tits.

“Take off her underwear,” Logan commands as you smile at his words. You lift your hips, upper body leaning against Logan, and Peter pulls your panties down your legs. He throws them off the bed somewhere, hoping you won’t be able to find them again so that Peter can keep them forever.

He moans loudly when you spread your legs, and it’s a wonder that Peter doesn’t cum again just at the sight of your pussy. You’re perfect, and so wet, and he falls to his hands, in front of you on all fours.

“You want her mouth or her pussy first?” Logan asks, although you and him already know the answer.

“Wanna go down on you,” Peter says, unable to tear his eyes away from your pussy. You spread your legs further for him, and he looks up at you with the most adorable puppy eyes you’ve ever seen.

“You can,” you smile.

Peter inhales deeply when he squashes his face between your thighs, trying to burn the memory of how good you smell into his brain forever. 

He doesn’t have a technique, he just starts. You let out a soft moan when Peter licks up your entire pussy once; he moans too as he tastes you. He grabs your soft thighs, putting them over his shoulders as he lies down.

You give him a reassuring smile as he begins to eat you out, experimenting with different licks and kisses. You turn to your side to start kissing Logan, your hand holding his wrist as his arm drapes over your chest.

Peter licks greedily at your pussy, and you reach into Logan’s boxers to start stroking the hard length of him. Your hand is coated in his precum quickly, and he smiles into the kiss before he gently nips at your lip.

“You okay there, bub?” Logan pulls away to smirk at Peter. If you can still kiss Logan that well, then Peter isn’t doing a good job. You both look down to find Peter more focussed on grinding his cock against the bed rather than on eating you out. He blushes.

You reach out to touch his cheek, some of Logan’s precum from your hand wiping against Peter’s face, “you’re so cute.”

He doesn’t even register the word anymore.

“You want Logan to teach you?”

Peter nods, moving only minimally to make space for Logan next to him, both their wide shoulders knocking against each other’s (okay, Logan’s are slightly bigger). Logan huffs but doesn’t say anything, placing one of your legs over his shoulder and pressing your other knee up against your chest.

“Here’s how you do it,” Logan looks at Peter, bending down to press a sloppy kiss right against your clit, coating you in his spit before he begins to gently suck. You squirm immediately, and Peter can’t wait to try it out on you.

Logan pushes two fingers into your wet pussy, moving them in a way that you evidently like. Peter doesn’t know what to look at – your pretty face or your pretty pussy. Logan huffs next to him, “I know she looks good, kid, but you gotta focus if you wanna make her cum.”

Peter nods, watching Logan sucking on your clit and moving his fingers inside you.

“You can use your fingers to fuck her,” he explains.

“I know,” Peter says, his tone perhaps a little more petulant than what he was aiming for, “I just hadn’t gotten her consent to do that yet, so I didn’t.”

You smile at him, “you can do whatever you want to me, Pete.”  

And that’s all he’s ever wanted to hear in his life.

Logan nods at him, sitting back up, and Peter gets between your legs. He knows he’s got it easier now because Logan had his mouth on you for a bit, but it wouldn’t be fair otherwise. Logan is like an old man with loads of experience, and he probably gets to fuck you every night, so he has an unfair advantage.

Your boyfriend gets next to you, kissing you – and it’s all sensual and passionate and wet and Peter can’t help but stare for a few moments. Logan starts touching your tits, groping you and moving to gently play with your nipples.

You pull away from the kiss, a string of spit hanging between your and Logan’s mouth, “Pete?” you ask softly, but Peter can hear some desperation in your voice. He doesn’t need to be told twice.

First, he quickly licks your pussy just to get that heavenly taste in his mouth again, then settles on a more precise movement of his tongue. He circles your clit, hearing you sigh against Logan’s mouth, but Peter isn’t sure if he’s the one who evoked that sound.

He slides two fingers into your pussy, curling them how Logan showed him to. He’s stopped moving his mouth, too concentrated on looking at your face to see a reaction.

“That’s it, Peter, don’t stop,” you moan, pushing his head back down and he happily wraps his lips around your clit, fucking you gently with his fingers.

“Yeah, baby, he’s got you,” Logan says into your neck, “You’ve got her, right, Peter?” he asks all smugly.

“Mhhmmm,” Peter squeaks without taking his mouth off you, and the vibration of his voice seems to make you squirm a bit more. He decides to let himself moan the way he’s been wanting to the entire time, subtly grinding his hips into the bed beneath him as he eats you out and fucks you with his fingers.

You cum with a cry that makes Peter even prouder than he’s been all night, and he thinks he’ll savour the feeling of your thighs squeezing around his head for the rest of his life. He pushes his tongue into your pussy to taste as much of your arousal as he can, stopping when he feels your and Logan’s eyes on him.

“Did such a good job,” you tell him, and he grins proudly. He gets on his knees to lean up and kiss you. Your tongue slides into his mouth, and his heart skips a beat at the way you smile into the kiss. He’s in heaven.

“You wanna fuck me now?” you ask, and Peter’s eyes go wide as he sits up and gets back between your thighs.

“And I want you too,” you smile up at your boyfriend, pulling at the waistband of his boxers. Peter has no idea how Logan has this much self-restraint, watching as he gets off the bed and takes off his boxers with a grin. Peter sees how you drool at the sight of Logan’s big dick, and Peter feels his own mouth watering. 

“Here you go, baby. Gonna be a good girl for me, right? Gonna take my cock? You been waiting for this, hm?” Logan kneels next to you. He holds his cock over your face, lightly slapping the tip against your lips. Peter’s cock pulses against his abs. 

You nod wordlessly, wrapping your lips around your boyfriend’s huge cock. You pull off him only to spit on it, jerking off the lower half of him that’s harder to fit in your mouth. 

The wet sounds coming from you sucking Logan’s cock make Peter’s dick twitch as he spills a new load of precum. It lands on your thigh, getting your attention. 

Peter doesn’t know how you can spare a single moment away from Logan’s cock, but you pull your mouth off him, “You can start if you’re ready,” you smile at Peter. Both of you watch him as he pushes his cock inside you. 

Your warm, velvety walls suck his cock in unlike anything he’s ever felt before. Peter’s eyes flutter shut and he just stays like that for a few moments, the sound your mouth makes around Logan’s cock doesn’t make it easier for Peter. Even if you don’t seem to mind him cumming fast, he’s trying to prevent it, feeling so close again already.

He hears Logan huff out a laugh, and Peter opens his eyes. You’ve stopped going down on your boyfriend, looking at Peter all sweetly.

“It’s okay if you cum quickly, I did too at the start,” Logan confesses. It’s hard to imagine him – the epitome of virility – not being able to last long, even with someone as perfect as you, but it makes Peter feel better about himself, by a lot.

“I really don’t mind it, Pete,” you smile, and Peter nods. He looks down towards where you’re joined, your pussy stuffed with his cock. Even though you’re used to something even bigger, there’s an obvious strain, and you’re squeezing around him hard even when he’s not moving.

You and Logan watch as Peter starts to fuck you, your hand on your boyfriend’s cock, lazily jerking him off. Logan doesn’t seem to mind watching Peter pushing into you slowly. The two pairs of eyes make him feel more self-conscious, yet it’s also invigorating.

Peter clumsily rubs at your clit, at least attempting to focus on something other than how good he feels.

“You’re so tight, feel so good,” he mumbles, and you seem like you’re enjoying it too, back arched and hand faltering around Logan’s cock. You’re too distracted by Peter.

“Don’t stop,” you say quietly, evidently not there yet but Peter’s sure you feel good.

You share an intimate smile with Logan, and he tells Peter, “Doin’ a really good job with my girl. This is the only thing, bub..”

Logan tries to hide his smile as he grabs Peter’s hand to guide his fingers back to your clit from where they’d drifted off to your thigh, where he’d just been holding you. Peter’s cheeks turn red – or maybe they’ve been red the entire time – as he goes back to playing with your clit.

He doesn’t notice it, but a few seconds later he stops touching your clit again, too distracted by how good your pussy feels. Logan shoves his hand between your legs instead, making you moan as soon as he starts rubbing your clit in circles.

Your pussy spasms around Peter’s cock as you orgasm, and he can practically feel the pleasure flowing through you.

“Can I cum inside you?” The question comes too late to wait for an answer so Peter pulls out, cumming all over your belly in sticky ribbons as he jerks off desperately.

You bite your lip when he’s done, humming as you take some of Peter’s cum off your belly, pushing your finger between your lips. “Tastes so good,” you tell Peter, “Taste it.” 

You swipe some more on your finger, bringing your hand up to Peter’s face as you put your finger in his mouth. He wraps his lips around it hesitantly, smiling shyly when he tastes his own saltiness. Logan’s watching him too, cock still hard.

You gently nudge Peter’s head down towards your belly, and he smiles at you sweetly as his lips glide over your skin and he begins to lick up his own cum.

“Don’t swallow it all,” you say, your hand in his hair, lightly scratching his scalp. He nods obediently, keeping his mouth closed when he’s licked your skin clean.

“Here,” you open your mouth for him, pulling him up to your face. His eyes go wide when he realises what you want him to do, and he holds your chin as he spits his cum into your mouth. 

He was starting to worry a little because, even though he knows he has no problem getting hard after a first orgasm, it’s been a while since he’s gone three times in a row. But now his dick is so hard again that it almost hurts.

You stick out your tongue, showing Peter and Logan the cum mixed with your spit in your mouth. “Come taste him,” you look up at Logan with the sexiest smile anyone has ever smiled, and Peter feels his cock flex as he somehow gets even harder.

Logan rolls his eyes playfully, bending down to kiss you nevertheless. Some of Peter’s cum runs down your chin, and Logan pulls away from the kiss to lick it up. Peter thinks he really should start training his stamina with how close he is again just from this.

You still don’t swallow when Logan stops kissing you. “Come here,” you tell Peter, and he kneels next to you so you have him and Logan at either side, their dicks hard. You sit up a little, spitting the rest of Peter’s cum into your hand as you reach for Logan’s cock, starting to jerk him off. 

He gives you a fake annoyed look at you using Peter’s cum as lube, but it’s obvious he likes it, and it makes Peter reach out to his own cock to give it a few strokes – he can’t help himself.

“Haven’t made you cum yet,” you peer up at Logan, who puts a reassuring hand on your cheek.

“You know I don’t mind watching you two, bub,” he says, and your wide smile hints that Logan has told you something slightly different in private. He doesn’t just mind it, he loves it. Peter gets why Logan might find that hard to admit in front of someone else, something about conventions and possessiveness, but he’s glad that Logan decided to share. He’s glad that you want him.

You wrap your lips around Logan’s cock again. While you suck his cock, you stop Peter’s hand on his cock, jerking him off instead. You pull your lips off Logan, turning to suck Peter’s dick.

You switch between them a few times, the taste of their precum mixing in your mouth and dripping down to their balls when you suck their dicks. Peter particularly enjoys this, awaiting his turn eagerly every time. The head of his cock is swollen with lust against the inside of your cheek, and you turn to him to focus on him fully, letting him get lost in the feeling of fucking your warm, wet mouth.

You put your hand on Logan’s hip, guiding him down the bed. He smirks as he gets between your thighs, watching you suck another man’s cock as he starts to fuck you. He goes slowly first, letting you adjust to his size as you moan around Peter’s dick.

Logan watches Peter’s eyes flutter shut at the vibration of your voice. Logan knows you’re not just moaning because of him inside you though.

“You like that, baby, hm? Like sucking Peter’s cock?” you don’t take your mouth off him, but your sparkling eyes meet Logan’s. It’s a look of understanding. 

Logan is ready to cum, but he tries to draw it out. He can go endless rounds but the first orgasm is always the best. He wants to savour it, save it for a bit longer. He focusses instead on making you cum, fucking against your g-spot, almost making you see stars.

You moan around Peter’s cock when you cum again, and Logan almost submits, but he’s able to fuck you through your orgasm without cumming. Peter spills into your mouth as your cheeks hollow around him, sucking him deeper down your throat.

“Such a good girl,” Logan praises you until your pussy stops pulsing with an orgasm, and you give him a fucked out smile as Peter pulls his cock out of your mouth.

“My girl,” Logan adds, kissing you, and you sigh against his lips in pleasure.

You sit up to grab the water bottle from the side of Peter’s bed and take a sip. You pass it to Peter and Logan afterwards, and you don’t move back between them once you’ve put the bottle away, so they’re facing each other.

You sit on your knees, looking between them as they’re impatiently waiting for you to come back, both their cocks standing hard and proud against their abs.

You bite your lip, “Are you into men, Pete?”

Peter’s heart misses a beat and then happily continues drumming against his chest as he nods eagerly, although he’s not sure why it matters right now.

You share a brief silent exchange with Logan before your next words. “So is Logan,” you nod towards your boyfriend. You wait for them to catch on to what you’re saying, but Peter is too shy to and Logan is still contemplating. This wasn’t a part of the plan, but he can’t say he’s against it. He just didn’t know you wanted to see him with another man the way he wants to see you with one.

“Um, what now?” Peter asks with a nervous smile, ready to please.

You fight the urge to simply answer now you kiss, “You think you two are the only ones that get a show?”

Peter’s eyes widen slightly at your suggestion before they brighten. A shy yet excited smile takes over his features.

“You sure, baby?” Logan asks you. You bite your lip, nodding slowly. Logan smirks, because he knows that exact look and you haven’t been quite this horny all night yet.

“Only if you want to as well,” you tell him, and he doesn’t need to answer.

“This okay for you, bub?” Logan lowers his voice as he speaks to Peter. 

He replies through an eager nod, “yeah.” The word comes out as a whisper.

Logan smirks as he leans in, gently placing his big hand around Peter’s throat. He’s not squeezing, just holding him in place. You didn’t mind Peter being all squirmy when you kissed him, but Logan wants to keep him still.

You watch their cocks rub against each other’s abs as they get closer, strings of spit connecting their lips as they make out, tongues tangling in desperation.

It’s sloppy, the way they kiss, and you could watch them forever.

Logan pulls his lips from Peter’s with a wet sound, firmly patting his cheek, “Now get on your knees, bub.”

The command makes even your knees buckle, and you watch Peter happily drop to the carpet, kneeling between Logan’s spread legs as he moves to the edge of the bed. He beckons you over to his side, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a messy kiss to your mouth.

You know he’s close now, having denied himself an orgasm this long.

Peter wraps a greedy hand around the base of Logan’s cock, leaning in to press a few kisses to his dick. You and Logan watch him, you pulled closely against his side.

“You want me to show you what to do?” you ask Peter after a while of him not doing anything but kissing and licking. Peter nods quickly, “yes please,” and you kiss him after you sit down next to him, tasting your boyfriend’s precum and some of your own arousal on him.

“Think he’s almost there,” you tell Peter as you look up at Logan through your lashes, and he smirks.

“That’s not a problem,” Peter says quickly.

“Here, you can use your tongue,” you tell him, wrapping your hand around Logan’s cock as you take him into your mouth, tongue wet against the underside of him, “try it.”

You keep holding Logan’s cock as you pull off him, angling it towards Peter’s face. His face is flushed as he takes Logan’s dick in his mouth for the first time, sucking on the tip.

“That’s it, doing so good,” you brush your thumb over Peter’s cheek where it bulges when he takes Logan deeper. Your and Logan’s eyes on him make him nervous, and he pulls off to kiss you instead.

You make out with him for a few moments, letting him kiss you greedily and wetly, before you guide your mouths back to Logan’s cock. You and Peter part only minimally as you kiss either side of Logan’s dick, spit running down from your mouths to his balls as you share him.

“Feels so good,” Logan mumbles, all blissed out, watching his perfect, pretty girlfriend share his cock with another guy.

You see how close he is, slowly pulling your mouth off him and leaning your cheek against his knee as you watch Peter take your boyfriend’s cock into his mouth all by himself.

“Attaboy,” Logan says, placing a hand on the back of Peter’s head when he goes deeper, spit falling from his lips.

“Juuust like that,” you add, your praise spurring Peter on. Logan’s other hand goes to your cheek, absent-mindedly brushing over it with his finger as he holds your face.

Peter gets more confident when Logan’s breath stutters. He moans on Logan’s cock as he takes him as deep as he can, the wet sound from his mouth obscene. 

Logan’s hips jerk as his cock twitches in Peter’s mouth, and he cums down his throat in warm, sticky ropes of his load.

“Good boy,” Logan softly ruffles Peter’s hair when he’s done, and you lean in to kiss Peter, some of your boyfriend’s cum still fresh on his lip.

“Doesn’t my boyfriend taste good?” you ask against his lips, hardly breaking the kiss. You can hear the slick of spit and cum on Logan’s cock already as he jerks off again, to the sight of you two making out with his cum between you.

“He does,” Peter mumbles against the skin of your jaw, kissing down your neck.

“He tastes better than me?” you tease.

“No– no, you taste better than anything in the world.” And Peter means it.

-

You’re not done until hours later; you fuck until it’s the middle of the night. Earlier, Peter was ready to forgo his birthday movie night just so you can go to sleep on time, but he got something much better, even if it means you stayed up late for him. He can’t say he feels too bad.

Peter is tucked in, you and Logan at either side as you send each other loving glances over Peter’s head. You’re stroking Peter’s hair, basically cuddling him with how close you are.

“Hope you liked your present,” you tell him, pressing one last kiss against his lips as you smile at his sleepy expression.

“Best birthday ever,” Peter mumbles, before he drifts off into a peaceful sleep.

-

P.S. reblog + let me know your thoughts and Logan and Peter will appear in your bed tonight 🩷🫣

butcher is just so mean !! :( i need his tongue down my throat

GUILTY AS SIN - Logan Howlett

❥ summary: the entire time you’ve known logan howlett, you’ve tried to keep your longings locked. then, one night, all that effort goes to waste when you’re confronted about your feelings.

word count: 8.5k (IM SORRY!!!!)

pairings: logan howlett x fem! mutant reader

content warnings: 18+ CONTENT MDNI, masturbation, dirty thoughts, light choking, multiple orgasms, oral (reader and logan receiving), spitting, sixty-nining, scent kink, like one spank, underwear stays ON, slight hint of arousal from crying?, creampie, p in v (practice safe sex ty!)

❥ a/n: guys…… am i…. a whore? (yes) do i need to be locked up? (also yes). i started this when i was on my period so maybe that’s the reason this is so filthy? anyway i don’t know how it got to 8k of smut but it DID and i have nothing to say about that… also reader has a mutation it’s not super in depth but her hair changes to red in certain situations and she has red light/energy she manifest in her hands, kind of confusing but it’s okay. anyway please please enjoy and let me know your thoughts <3

— ˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚

‘I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top lip kiss

How I long for our trysts

Without ever touching his skin

How can I be guilty as sin?’

Guilty as Sin? - Taylor Swift

— ˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚

THE SHEETS are chilled, crisp to the touch, cold enough that shivers tickle their way across exposed skin. A sigh is heard, loud enough for wandering ears as a figure moves about in the unmade, blanket muddled bed. The window had been left open, and as a result, cold air had poured into the room.

Despite the fact that goosebumps adorn your body, it felt as though you were on fire. Huffs escaped parted lips, a charged hum zipping through your veins that only intensified each time you moved. You’d been trying to sleep for the past couple hours, trying to ignore the need thrumming through you, but had only managed to fail.

You turn on your side for possibly the twentieth time, but the position only worsens your state as the flesh of your thighs squeeze unintentionally, a wave of brief relief sent to your throbbing core. Tears brim your lashes, damp with frustration because fuck, your body was humming with lust and everything was so, so sensitive.

This was all Logan’s fault.

The man has been gone less than a week and yet, your body was practically vibrating with need, trembling with desire.

The feelings you harbor make you feel shameful and guilty for a handful of reasons.

Logan was not your boyfriend; he wasn’t even a friend. While he was cordial with the others in the mansion, he remained cold and indifferent toward you.

You pretended it never bothered you when he pointedly ignored your greetings in passing or refused to partner up with you. You didn’t understand what you’d done to upset him, to warrant his treatment of you as if you were the most annoying person on the planet. More often than not, you are the subject of the man’s pointed glare.

So, logically, your heart shouldn’t race at the mere thought of him. Nor should desire pool between your thighs whenever images of his sweaty form cloud your mind.

By definition, you were immensely smart; a genius with how you could understand what others could not.

Though, you were only human and Logan fucking Howlett was a man worth embarrassing yourself over, especially when he looked like he did.

He wasn’t, your mind huffed.

He was, your heart retorted.

A memory comes forward, one that has your cheeks blushing, your chest rising a little faster than before.

A couple weeks ago, you’d been up late, struggling to sleep and with the way it evaded you, wandering the halls had been your solution, in hopes of tiring yourself out.

But when you had walked down your hallway, you froze at the sight of a shirtless Logan in his room, the door left ajar.

A towel covered his head as he scrubbed away the wetness in his hair, and you desperately hoped he hadn’t noticed your presence. Water dribbled down his muscular body, and your eyes greedily watched each droplet descend down, glistening against the tan stomach you wanted to bite. What really had you drooling, however, was the thick, prominent vein that crept down into the waistband of his gray sweatpants. Said pants had your eyes wide with the prominent bulge tented in the material.

When you just barely caught yourself from moaning, you had dashed back to your room right away. You were wide awake still, but for a completely different reason. All you could think about was tracing your tongue along that vein.

If you’d fucked yourself that night to the thought of him and his glistening torso, no one had to know.

So theoretically, if you gave in to your cravings, it wouldn’t be the first time, but it certainly wouldn’t make you feel any less guilty.

Scarlett hues dust your cheekbones, lips bitten until they’re swollen and shiny with spit. Your breasts ache from inside the confines of the pink, lacy shirt, made worse with each labored breath you inhale as perky nipples brush the material. Your hole feels incredibly empty, the need to be filled overpowering. Your clit, puffy and neglected, throbs with pure, searing need.

Another wave of aching pleasure from your wetness breaks your resolve— a shaky hand slipping from its place on your stomach down, down, down until cold fingers meet the mess between your thighs.

A gasp sounds, melodic as it swirls with heavy breathes, fluttering around the room as you brush over your clit. Even through the material of your underwear, the slight pressure of your fingers made you mewl.

Flashes of Logan dance behind closed lids, your imagination running wild while you messily swirl over your bundle of nerves.

You wanted him so, so bad, in every way possible, it actually hurt, both your heart and core.

Your mind submerges your consciousness with thoughts of him; his pretty hazel eyes, the slope of his nose, the tufts of his brown hair. The muscles that were constantly on display, his thick thighs that you wanted to ride until you came all over him, and the huge bulge that was ever present in those flattering jeans of his (and if it was a reoccurring fantasy of yours to ride that delicious bulge over his jeans until you both came from just dry humping, again— no one had to know).

Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t stop thinking about Logan.

Him hovering over you, dog tags swinging in your face as he fucked you hard. Him picking you up and taking you against the nearest surface, lips trapped in an erotic kiss. Him prying your thighs open as he licked up your pussy, tongue dipping into your hole to lap up all the desire pooling, his lips wrapping around the swollen bud and sucking violently. Him holding your face lovingly as his hips thrusted his cock deeper into your throat, groans spilling at the gag you’d let out.

You were split between wanting to sink down onto his cock and rut your swollen nub against the curls that nestled the base of him and stuffing his dick down your throat, gagging around him until he came and coated your throat with his spend.

You didn’t even bother to remove the damp underwear, instead circling the engorged bud over the material— and oh, fuck. The roughness of the lace mixed with the delicious rubbing of your fingers send little moans tumbling from parted lips.

Your unoccupied hand slips under the shirt covering your chest and only settle once your nipple is pinched between determined fingers, rolling the pert bud in tandem with the amorous touch of your hand on your sex.

Pleasure nips at your pelvis, and if you were a little more aware, you’d be embarrassed at how fast you to reaching your peak. But, as it is, your brain is completely hazy with wanton thinking and the only thing on your mind was lessening the ache that pulsates deep within you.

And fuck, you’re so fucking needy for logan that you try to pretend it’s his fingers abusing your clit, his fingers tugging at the sensitive buds of your chest. You want his tongue between your thighs, licking up your desire and sucking your puffy bud into his pretty mouth.

Chest rising rapidly, you feel overwhelmed at the fantasies swirling before your eyes. Its far too much— the mix of your filthy desires and your fingers rubbing your nub have your legs quivering as wetness coats your hand.

“Logan, Logan, Logan—“ The chant of his name mindlessly falls from you, the feeling of your orgasm washing over you, threatening to pull you under those soaring, unforgiving waves of pleasure.

Eyes snap shut, ears ring with white noise, and your hips hump your hand pitifully— you were an absolute, writhing mess against the sheets.

The hair messily strewn around your pillow shifts then from its natural state to a dark red. Even with your eyes shut, you could feel the vermillion light whirling at your fingertips, begging to be released.

Your mutation was not one of subtlety.

Searing bliss coils in your lower tummy, your button tingling with the after effects of the orgasm that crashed into you. You sigh, because even though you just came, you felt far from satisfied. Your body buzzes with sweltering hunger, all the way from the top of your head down to the tips of your toes. Even if you fuck yourself dizzy with another orgasm, you knew it won’t satiate your body. Not completely, anyway.

Before you could slip your fingers inside your weeping hole, a loud knock echos through your room.

You still; desperate and hoping that if you ignored the noise, whoever was knocking would simply go away. But when another rhythmic thump comes a few seconds later, you huff.

It’s well past midnight at this point, so who in their right mind would be going about and slamming their fists on your door?

Apparently, you arent moving fast enough when the person has the nerve to knock for a third time, hand a little heavier than before. A growl, tinged with annoyance, slips out as you fling yourself up and off the bed.

You stomp to the door, ready to tell the person on the other side to fuck off.

But when you actually swing open the mahogany door, all the anger simmering beneath your heated skin disappears, along with your breath, as your eyes take in the sight before you.

Logan Howlett stands before you, seemingly angry as a frown etches deep on his face. He glares at you, hazel eyes swarming with exasperation and something unknown.

And little did you know, all of your craziest, fatal fantasies were about to come true.

❥

The moment Logan steps into the mansion, finally back from the complete shit show of a mission Charles had sent him on, he tenses instantly.

His fingers clench into fists, tight enough that the skin turns white. The adamantium claws threaten to poke through his knuckles as he inhales deeply.

Big mistake.

That sweet, sweet scent swarms his heightened senses, the intoxicating smell nearly making him dizzy. His heart speeds up, his stomach flutters, and his cock twitches in the confines of his jeans.

Logan could fucking smell you.

It’s a heady aroma thats so completely you, that his body feels deranged, just about ready to march up those steps and break down your door.

He shakes himself loose from the metaphorical shackles of you and begins the journey to his room, trying to block out how delicious and syrupy you smell.

He decides then, as his body finally moves up the steps, that ignoring you is the best option.

But as he gets closer to the hallway he shares with you (just his luck, by the way!), he realizes that plan is a joke.

He feels his control slipping, especially as the heady scent grows stronger, tinged with something else— something erotic and salacious.

Logan curses, his entire being rigid.

You’re aroused, the smell seeping under the crack of the door giving you away instantly.

The idea of you whining as your pussy drips slick between your thighs has him grinding his teeth, fingers flexing and unflexing in an attempt to harness the control back to his body.

Though, it goes out the window entirely as his body is apruptly outside your door, unconsciously drawn to the very essence of you.

There’s a reason Logan has kept carefully crafted distance between the two of you.

The minute he was introduced to you, a new member of the x-men and teacher for the school, he knew he was fucked.

From the first look shared between you, he knew.

A pretty smile had graced your lips, eyes filled with joy as you greeted him, a hand outstretched in his direction as your hair swayed with your movements. In your cute, little outfit (a pretty, white lace dress that kissed the tops of your thighs, matched with baby pink pumps that accentuated your legs), he thought you looked like a princess.

He had stayed frozen, however, because he was assaulted with the fucking smell of you. It was nothing like he’d encountered before, and he’d been around for over a century.

Your scent was so fucking sweet, vanilla and honey permeated his nostrils and right in that moment, he wondered if you tasted as sweet as you smelt.

He knew that he had to keep his distance, otherwise he’d become addicted to you in every sense. If he let himself, he’d worship the very ground you walked on. He couldn’t risk having the walls he’d spent so long building to crumble.

And in an instant, he was angry that his body had reacted this way to someone he’d never even met. He was angry he wanted to press sweet kisses on your face while simultaneously wanting to fuck you on his cock until you screamed his name.

So, with that, he’d made up his mind.

He had simply glared at you, refused to acknowledge your existence and stormed out of Charles’ office. And since that day, he’s tried his hardest to pretend you didn’t exist— if only to ease the way you constantly haunted his every thought.

He pretended it didn’t kill him to see how your face would crumble at his rude behavior, at how he avoided you at all costs. He couldn’t help it, though, because if he treated you how he wanted, like the princess you were, he’d never let you go.

A sudden noise shakes him from the depths of his mind, that carnal, sensual essence growing stronger by the second.

“Logan, Logan, Logan,” your honeyed voice whines, all airy and light.

And it’s almost comical how the telltale snikt! sounds immediately after because what?

What the fuck? He thinks, mind utterly destroyed at the revelation that not only were you seemingly fucking yourself, but you were moaning his name.

Logan growls, low and dangerous as his claws reveal themselves, cutting through the skin of his knuckles. His body feels unnaturally hot, practically set on fire. His cock now uncomfortably hard in his jeans, lustful essence bubbling at his tip and no doubt staining his boxers.

With the wafts of your pretty aroma and sounds of your lewd whimpers, he knows he can’t resist you any longer.

His hand lifts, claws retracting as his heavy fist slams on your door.

And the sight of you, face shiny with a sheen of sweat has him choking on his own saliva.

Tonight was the night his control finally snaps, despite months of work put into avoiding you.

Logan knows his animalistic side is about to be released; he’s going to fucking ruin you.

❥

You gulp, a hand resting on the door frame as you stand frozen because honestly, what the fuck?

You deduce that the universe hates you because why? Why would the man you’d been thinking of while masturbating be right in front of you?

It only dawns on you when Logan’s gaze swipes over your figure that you’re basically naked. Clad only in your blushed, frilly top and the matching underwear, the latter soaked with both your arousal and release.

You shrink beneath his eyes, warmth simmering hot on the apples of your cheeks, and your mouth opens and closes, yet no words follow.

“Uh— Logan, hey!” Your voice is shaky, and whether it’s from the power of your release or the nerves that bumble beneath your skin at the man before you, you couldn’t tell. All you know is that you want the ground to swallow you up whole.

Logan doesn’t respond, just continues to stare at you in a way that you don’t understand. You assume he’s just gotten home from the very long mission, and confusion settles over you as to why he was at your door, especially considering how he badly despises you.

You’re about to voice that exact thought when Logan beats you to speaking.

“I heard you.” His gruff tone is coated in something darker than you’d ever heard before.

For a moment, you’re perplexed, brows furrowing and raising before your eyes go comically wide.

And— oh, oh.

“Can smell you, too.”

Heat licks at your whole body, embarrassment threatening to envelope you entirely. Tears of horror tickle your lash line, because this was probably the most painful moment of your life. Not only does the man hate you, but now he’s heard you moan his name as you came all over your fingers? How pathetic are you?

You open your mouth, an apology heavy on your tongue. You need to say something to quell the panic flooding your body— you’re never going to get over this

Though, before you can even speak, Logan slams his mouth onto yours.

He holds your head softly, a deep contrast to the way his lips melt over yours. A moan slips from your open mouth, the feel of his lips sucking at your bottom lip feels immensely intense and so, so good.

Your arms wrap around his neck, fingertips tangling themselves in the hair at his nape like you’ve wanted to do since the very day you met him.

“Logan—“ you whimper against his mouth, trying and failing to understand what the fuck was happening as he slips his tongue inside your wet, warm mouth. “Logan.”

He ignores you, grunting against your spit, slick lips as his hands travel down your curves, until they find purchase on your ass, gripping hard. A choked gasp spills from you as he suddenly paws at you, picking you up effortlessly in his strong arms.

The idea of him holding you up with no hesitation has your hips shuddering forward without your permission. Vaguely, you feel him move past the threshold of your door, slamming it shut before pressing your body up against the wood.

Logan switches between licking your tongue and sucking meanly at your lips, until they feel full and swollen with his attention. You’re pliant— almost willing to let him do anything he’d like to you.

Almost.

As good as his tongue feels dancing with yours, confusion still settles over your mind. Perhaps this was a dream and if that’s the case, you never want to wake up.

“Wait—wait.” You pull back, the questions swirling inside probing you until it’s impossible to ignore.

“Huh, baby?” Logan groans, teeth pulling at your bottom lip before sucking at the swollen skin.

Babybabybabybabybaby— the pet name clouds your senses for a second, a rush of arousal pooling at your hole. You want to cry at how that simple, simple word makes you feel.

“Stop that.” You mumble, pulling your head back and lips out of his reach.

Logan stares at you, silent but waiting as he waits for you say whatever is on your mind. Frankly, he wants his tongue to be buried deep in your cunt right about now, but, details.

“What is going on?” Breathless, the question settles between you, causing Logan’s brow to raise.

“Well, my tongue was just in your mouth—“ you slap his chest, face turning warm at his bluntness.

“Not that. I’m— why are you here? Why are you kissing me when you can’t stand me?” Your voice is quiet, insecurity present in your tone. Nimble fingers grasp the dog tags that rest on his chest, and you’ve never been grateful for it.

At that, Logan’s face scrunches up, confusion floating around his irises, lips curving downward.

“What are you talking about?” If it wasn’t for the genuineness in his voice, you would’ve smacked his chest again at how clueless he was.

“What do you mean? You’ve made it very clear how you feel about me; you’ve despised my entire existence the moment we met— wait, I can’t even say that because you didn’t even have the decency to greet me!”

Frustration hovers over you heavily, enough to snap you out of the lustful spell Logan often inflicts upon you. You slide down his body, ignoring the quiver of your cunt when you make contact with his jean clad bulge. You push at his chest, needing distance to ensure you actually get your words out and don’t end up back with his tongue down your throat.

“I don’t hate you.” Logan grunts out, staring at you as you pace the wooden floors of the room. Vaguely, he’s paying attention, but he can’t be blamed for the way his eyes focus on the way your ass shifts with each step, the plush skin so inviting as the lace cup each cheek. “What’re you on about?”

Frankly, Logan’s pissing you off. The vague answers are getting on your nerves, enough that you feel yourself snap.

Your hair swiftly turns bright red, a scarlet blossoming over the strands until they coat them completely. Your emotions could never quite be concealed, not with the way your hair would turn different variations of red when you were angry, furious, sad, happy, aroused.

“You’ve been a dick to me, treating me like shit for no reason and now you think you can just waltz in here and kiss me like that? You think you can pretend to want me when we both know that’s not true?”

Balls of fiery, red energy bloom at your fingertips, and though you stand in your pretty pink assortment, you look the part of threatening.

It’s too bad the abrupt display of your mutation, mixed with fiery words, has Logan’s cock jerking with want.

“Sometimes, I question whether or not you’re actually a genius.”

And just like that, you feel the words like a punch to the gut. You’re so mad, so blind by the intense emotions you feel for Logan, that you feel those pesky flames of energy moving up your wrist and forearm, a telltale sign of your anger.

“Fuck you, Logan.” You hiss, your fingers hot with the heat coursing through them.

What pisses you off more, to which your hair and eyes darken to a dangerous maroon, is the fact that Logan wears a faint smirk, watching you with humor as if you aren’t showcasing how pissed you are.

“Are you done yet?” Logan takes a step closer, uncaring of the way your mutation flares furiously at his presence.

“Logan, leave me alone. I don’t need you to sit here and pretend to want me. I don’t need you to make fun of me, either.” Huffing, you glare up at the man before you, who stares back just as pointedly.

You turn around, back facing him as you go to enter the attached bathroom when all at once, you’re spun back around by a hand on your nape, your neck in a delicious tight grip as Logan pulls you into his body, smashing his mouth on yours for the second time tonight.

Your body betrays you, a desperate whimper ebbs out at how fucking good Logan’s lips feel on yours.

His teeth bite down on your top lip, before suckling sweetly to combat the pain flourishing there. You moan, mouth falling open as he messily kisses you. The intoxicating taste of him swarms your tastebuds, his tongue swirling with yours in a way that leaves you dizzy with need.

A string of spit connects between your mouths as Logan pulls away, chuckling meanly when you promptly follow the warm wetness of his lips. A rough hand grips your throat again, tight enough to leave you feeling breathless but delicious enough to make your cunt squeeze around nothing.

“So that’s what you think, princess? That I don’t want you?” Logan’s fingers flex around your throat, gripping at your jaw to capture all of your attention. As if you were anything but than enamored with him. “You think that’s what I’ve been doing, huh?”

You can only stare up at him as your heartbeat rings loudly through your eardrums. A hand goes to tug at his shirt, an attempt to steady yourself, but Logan’s faster as he grabs your wrist.

“Answer me.” He whispers hotly as the hand holding yours captive moves to intertwine your fingers.

The touch of him, the hold on your throat and roughness of his fingers in yours, renders you speechless. You’re so overcome with your emotions that you can only manage to nod. The weight of you goes limp in his hold, silently begging him to do something to satiate the hunger burning every inch of you.

“Words, baby. Got nothing to say now, huh?” He taunts, his grip leaving your neck in favor of thumbing at your lips.

“Yes— I, it’s what it’s seemed like, what you’ve made me feel. Thought you hated me.”

Logan’s nose twitches, no doubt smelling your arousal as it leaks into the material covering you, ruining the lace.

“Couldn’t be more wrong,” He groans, pushing his thumb past the soft of your lips. His knees nearly buckle at the feel of your mouth closing and sucking his thumb, tongue rolling up against the skin as though it was his cock instead. “Shit, baby.”

You whine around his finger, eyes fluttering up at him in a way that has his dick aching for you.

“Fuck, been dreaming about you since the day we met. Been dreaming of you in every way possible.” He admits, a smile tugging at his lips at the way you freeze, lips leaving his thumb with a ‘pop’.

“What?” It’s a whisper, barely audible but he heard it all the same. The butterflies in your stomach are now having a complete rager, bolts of anxiousness kissing your skin.

“Of course.” Logan leanes down, pressing a kiss to your wet lips. “Knew the second I saw you you’d ruin me, so I just… stayed away. I never meant to make you think the worst. M’sorry, honey.”

This was not the way you’d expected tonight to go.

It’s as though all the confusion, anger, and sadness drain from you and, in its place,its full of the tremulous feeling of the admission.

And despite the fact that you’d fucked yourself thinking about him, and he’d heard, you feel incredibly shy. You drop your head to his hard chest, your hands squeezing his own where he holds them.

“I don’t know what to say.” You utter, brain all muddled and no other thoughts come forth as Logan haunts every inch of your mind. You feel like an idiot, even though Logan had acted like a dick for the better part you’d known him.

Logan simply lifts your head, invading your senses as his nose bumps yours.

“You were a dick.” It’s spoken factually, making him huff against your face.

“I know.”

“You could’ve kissed me months ago.”

“Can I kiss you now?”

His quick reply leaves you flushing, but when you nod, his lips are back on yours instantly, in their rightful place.

The kiss is messy; hot, wet, and dirty. Logan groans when you jump up, strong arms catching your thighs in a tight grip. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lose yourself in the thrilling taste of his mouth. You unconsciously start humping him, dragging your drenched panties across his hard dick.

You suck on his tongue before capturing his lip between your teeth, nails dragging down his shoulder blades. A loud, feral growl escapes Logan, and without another thought, he throws your pliant body on the bed.

And at the sight of you, Logan feels like he’s about to come right then and there. In your skimpy outfit, so much plush, soft skin is on display. The hair tumbling from your shoulders has turned a dark cherry color during your kiss, and your hands are tickled with red energy that’s twirling up your arms, not unlike the way vines thread onto an old home.

This time, though, he knows you’re not upset, but instead, aroused.

He can smell the way your slick seeps from your fluttering hole, how it sticks to the skin of your thighs.

And fuck, he wants to sink his face right in front of your pussy and inhale until he’s woozy with the complete perfume of you.

So, that’s exactly what he does.

Your eyes widen as Logan drops onto the floor in front of the bed, yanking your body to the edge. Your lower half is completely in his grip, and he stares at you for a moment, eyes hazy with lust. Then, he’s pulling your pussy all the way up to his nose. The feel of him so close to your puffy lips has you clenching, even more so when he lowers his head and fucking sniffs you.

“Fuck, baby. Been dreaming of this since the minute I saw you. Smells so fuckin’ sweet.” Logan inhales deeply again, smattering messy, open mouthed kisses to the skin of your upper thigh. “You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to throw you over my shoulder, get you alone and eat this pussy.”

“Logan!” You whimper out. The sound is completely feeble but you couldn’t care less, not with the way he’s sucking bruises into your skin. “Please, please.”

Spurred on by your whines, he sinks his canines into the skin, where your thigh meets the lips of your core.

Pain simmers into pleasure as the sting is followed by his tongue. Rosy splotches decorate your upper thighs, a preview of the bruises that will glaze the skin tomorrow. Logan does this until he’s satisfied with how his teeth imprint the skin. It’s as if it’s his way of solidifying that you’re his, like he’s staking his claim with his bruises smattering your thighs.

At some point your hand finds purchase in his hair, pawing at the tufts and tugging his face closer to where you need him most. He groans, the pain at his scalp sending jolts of desire throughout his body.

He sneaks a look up at you, and shit, you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Your head is thrown back, sending those rebellious, red strands fluttering around you. Your hips are canting up to his mouth, and the smell of you, mixed with the previous orgasm you’d worked out before he interrupted, sends his senses in overdrive.

He knows he’d tortured you both enough when you can’t stop shivering with need, when his own hips brush against the edge of the bed. Without hesitation, Logan licks a long, wet stripe up your clothed pussy, suctioning around your enlarged clit.

The taste of you, heady, sweet, and so distinctly you, floods his tongue. He knew you’d taste good, but this? Oh, he wanted to drink you up all hours of the day.

With a growl, Logan tuggs the lace aside and loses it. He sucks, licks, and mouthed at your cunt like a man starved. His tongue dips into your hole before licking up and down your slit.

Moans of his name sound around the walls of your room, along with the filthy noise of his lips sucking your swollen button.

You’ve never felt like this before; the way he’s eating you out has your entire body on fire, and if you could see yourself, you’d see how ruby colored lines swirl all around your hands, how your hair practically glows with the intensity of your feelings.

He’d been attracted to you the minute he saw you— but the way you look when your mutation is at work? The way your hair grows shades of intoxicating reds and the way the fiery energy glows from the tips of your fingers to your elbows? Oh, how it fucking wrecks him. He just wants to keep you captive in this bedroom for all of eternity, if only to see you like this all the time.

“Feels so fucking good, fuck.” You’re a blubbering mess, hands tugging Logan’s hair hard, resulting in a moan that vibrates your pussy.

“Mine.” He grunts, and you gasp at the sensation of saliva as he spits directly onto your clit. “My fuckin’ pussy.”

Then, he latches his soft lips around your puffy bud and sucks hard. His dirty words and lucious mouth have your thighs shivering, hips bucking with insatiable need.

Like you’d done when you were alone and thinking about him, whimpers of ‘Logan’ slip past bitten lips as you rut against his face.

“That’s it, baby, say my name. Taste so fuckin’ good.” He humms against the slick, swell of your pussy.

A stream of ‘fuckfuckfuck’ is audible from open lips, forming an ‘o’ as the rush of delicious, hot pleasure pours over you completely.

As you come down, the pleasure fizzles out and overwhelming bursts of overstimulation bubble over you. Logan continues to lap at your wetness, groaning at your taste.

“S’too much, Logan.” Shaky hands grip his brown locks and you try and fail to bring the man away from your throbbing hole. His tongue laps at the taste of you, dipping in as deep as he could to savor every last drop. “Oh, fuck.”

“Taste too fuckin’ sweet, baby. Can’t help it.”

Logan grips tightly at your thighs, cruelly pinching at the flesh as he devours your pretty clit.

He can’t get enough, and seemingly, neither can you, with the way you buck into his warm, slick mouth despite the crushing pleasure. The material of your underwear snaps against you as Logan’s grip loosens, but he still eats you out as though there was no barrier.

His soft lips and dangerous tongue make it difficult to do anything but take the mind-numbing pleasure.

He’s content to stay here; between your gorgeous thighs and ravage your cunt all night, pull orgasms from you until you forget everything except the syllables that make up his name.

Except, the words that come from you have him still against you, his cock jerking and responding immediately to the addictive tilt of your voice.

“Logan— Logan, wanna suck your cock. Please.”

It was as though you were made for him— every inch of you riles him up like no one else has before and he has to take a deep, deep breath to refrain from coming in his jeans like a damn virgin.

With one last lick up your lace covered cunt, his face is suddenly above yours, the sight is lethal. The entirety of his lower face wears your wetness with pride, glistening and gleaming in the lowlight of the room. His eyes look animalistic, the hazel taken over by the black of dilated pupils.

Logan looks at you like he wants to fucking destroy you. You know without a doubt you’d let him.

A sweet kiss is pressed against your lips, a warm caress of his tongue on yours, the musky taste of your pussy causing you to part your thighs further. You whine once more, because you crave the heady taste of his cock; your mouth salivates at the thought of his tip heavy on your tongue.

“Easy, honey. Can smell how bad you want it.”

If you were less intoxicated by lust, you’d be mortified at the knowledge Logan can smell your arousal right now.

“Logan.” Pathetic whimpers and moans against his mouth have him pulling back, gritting his teeth to force himself to get a grip. It doesn’t work, not with the way you’re spread out below him, face pretty with a tiny that vaguely mimics the hue of your top and panties.”Please.”

How is he meant to last when you sound like that? All fucked out from just his tongue alone?

“C’mere’.” Logan mutters, tugging your body all the way up his chest, maneuvering you until your pussy is hovering above his mouth, facing his cock.

Completely fucked out, saliva pools in your mouth at the sight of his bulge, massive even in the confines of jeans.

You’re confused as to why Logan has put you on his chest, but it makes sense when he pulls your thighs down, mouth finding your wet, sopping sex once more.

You cry out, hips jolting at the way his tongue push the fabric away from your puffiness, immediately wrapping around your clit. At the way you were shaking on his face, unmoving besides the subtle thrusts of hips, he stops.

“Lo—“

“Go on then, baby. Suck my cock, just like you wanted.”

And oh, you both feel the slick that follows after those rasped words fill the air.

Only once you undo that damn belt buckle and pull both his jeans and boxers down, just enough to see the way his cock bounced out, wet at the red, swollen tip, does Logan resume licking up your pussy.

Fueled by the return of those talented lips, you lean forward without another thought.

Licking from base to tip, a moan vibrates against his cock as you hum, a taste so distinctly Logan making you feel light and warm. You lick up and down him sloppy, spitting on the tip of him as you slick his dick up, before finally wrapping your lips around him.

“Fuck.” His growl is borderning on feral; his teeth finding purchase on your asscheek and biting, an attempt to ground himself. It only serves to have his hips jump at the feel of you whining on him, sucking him down so fucking good. “Fuck, knew you’d be good with that pretty fuckin’ mouth.”

He’s so focused on the way you’ve started bobbing up and down the length of him, overcome with euphoria at the warmth and wetness as you suck and swirl your tongue, that he’s stopped his attention to your pussy, something he’s only reminded of as you wiggle impatiently over him.

“Sorry, princess, you’re driving me fuckin’ crazy.” He grits out, fingers gripping the flesh of your thighs at the little ‘hmph!’ you let out, pulling off his cock.

Though he can’t see you, he knows there’s a string of spit that spans from your swollen lips to his pulsating cock. He shutters, overwhelmed by you entirely, before burying his face into your weepy cunt.

”Oh! Logan, feels so good!” With a pathetic little whimper, his cock fills your mouth again as you sink down, satisfied with the way his tongue is licking at you.

A blend of moans sound as he wraps his lips around your puffed clit, as you ease his cock into your throat.

Logan’s eating you out in a frenzy, crazed by the tang of you soaking his mouth, chin, and nose. Despite the warmth bubbling in his stomach, he’s determined to make you come on his tongue again.

When thick fingers nudge into your hole unexpectedly, you mewl at the blissful feeling.

Logan’s fingers work steadily inside you in tandem with the way his mouth suckles divinely at your button. You’re an absolute mess— grinding down on his face, riding his digits, gagging as Logan’s hips match the pace of his fingers, grunts vibrating against you as he fucks your throat.

Logan curls his fingers in a way that has you seeing every fucking color of the rainbow. You come, moaning around the base of his cock and rocking back and forth on his fingers and mouth, muffled sobs spilling from your stuffed mouth.

When he feels you shivering on his tongue, overstimulated and sensitive, he pulls away from your center, the soaked fabric of your panties falling back into place once more.

Your mouth is still full of him, lips lazily sucking him down as your body tries to get ahold of the white hot pleasure still coursing through you.

“C’mere, baby.”

It’s a soft whisper against your thigh, but it settles over you, his soothing voice swirling around your shaky body like a warm blanket. Letting his cock fall from your lips, you scramble as fast as your body allows before you find yourself straddling Logan, staring down at the man with cloudy, wet eyes.

And maybe Logan is sick— because the sight of tears spilling over your cheeks has his cock unbelievably hard, a growl threatening to tumble out at the way your pretty, crimson hair spills over your shoulders.

Still, he wants to make sure you’re okay.

“What’s wrong, honey?” Logan watches at the way a small smile graces your features, even as tears continue to glisten your lash line. “You okay?”

“Nothing's wrong, just feel so good.” Your voice is a little hoarse, no doubt from the way his dick was fucking your whiny mouth. Your voice is still the sweetest thing he’s ever heard, those few words going straight to his dick.

Logan feels his own lips tug upwards as you speak. Even though he’s fucked you silly and stolen two orgasms, he tenses with desire as he notes the want dancing in your irises.

“Good.”

“Mhmm.”

There’s a beat of silence, a moment where hungry eyes lock in on one another, sensual energy threatening to burst.

Then, in a flash, lips are locked and tongues whirl together familiarly. It’s a hot, lewd kiss filled to the brim with desire— the passion almost too much with how it lights up every inch of your bodies, a fire threatening to spread.

Neither of you are sure who moved first— but it doesn’t matter because the way Logan’s hand wraps around your hair, creating a makeshift ponytail in a tight grip, steals your attention.

If someone were to see the two of you, they would see how desperate and needy you both were.

You’re kissing Logan’s top lip, biting before soothing the sting with a sweet, soft suck. Your thighs are spread over his own entirely and your position has your cunt settling over his cock nicely. Logan’s free hand grips the skin of your ass tight, guiding as you grind against him, the soaked panties catching on the tip of him with each thrust. The fingers tangled in your hair are unforgiving, tugging harshly as Logan grunts into your open mouth.

You’re both a mess of passion and lust— and your body thrums with the idea of his cock inside you.

“Such a good girl, that’s it. Fuck—“ Logan nearly whines, the feel of your wetness on his bulge has him trapping your lips in another all consuming kiss.

Your hands, lit up with energy, find purchase in his pretty hair, yanking as he kisses you vulgar, because everything is somehow too much and not enough.

“Logan— need you. Need you so bad, baby.”

Logan wants to eat you up entirely— somehow you’re still not satiated, rubbing your slick all over his lap and begging him for more. If he was a better man, he would’ve fucked you already. As it is, he likes it a little too much hearing you beg for him.

“Shhh, you got me, honey. I’m right here.”

“Fuck me, please. Need you inside, Logan.”

There’s tears in your eyes again, ready to spill over if the ache between your thighs isn’t soothed in the next five minutes. You’re clinging to him, hips stuttering because it’s just not enough and you both know it.

“My poor baby.” He sighs, the words somehow a mix of condescending and genuine and it makes you cry out. “So needy, huh?”

“Just for you.” The way you say it, it’s a message you both understand— you need him in every way possible, not just sexually.

He wonders if you know just how badly he needs you, especially now that he’s got a taste of you.

“I’m yours—“ you start, but it’s cut off by the squeak you emit when you’re suddenly flipped over, Logan’s muscular form hovering over you, his dog tags swinging between you.

“You’re mine.” It’s not a question, but a statement and it sends a thrill over you.

“Yours.” You’re nodding, eyes wide and so fucking pretty that it makes Logan squeeze his hands, the metal of his claws threatening to break through the skin.

He pulls his shirt off then, pride filling his chest at the way your eyes glaze over, a lip taken between your teeth as you stare at the vein that leads to his cock, which is pulsing with the promise of release.

He doesn’t comment on your lustful eyes, instead tracing his fingers down your body, until he reaches the hem of your baby pink lace. It doesn’t leave much to the imagination but Logan might break something if he doesn’t see your tits in all their glory.

You get the message, leaning up and slowly pulling the fabric from your chest, your breasts and midsection on full display. If he hadn’t already eaten you out twice, you would’ve moved to cover your taut nipples. Instead, you grip the chain of his necklace and pull him back down with you, sighing when you’re chest to chest.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this?” He says, pecking your lips once, licking a stripe down your throat. Wetness coats both nipples as his tongue swirls over them. “Do you know how badly I’ve wanted to have you under me?”

You moan, nails digging into his shoulder blades at the fluttery feeling his lips bring, deep enough to elicit blood from his skin. Logan groans, head tipping back as his hips thrust down suddenly, the tip of his cock ramming into your clit.

“Fuck, Logan.” Your hands span the expanse of his back, scratching each time he bumps your button just right. His jeans are still on, resting just below his thighs and something about the way he couldn’t even get up to properly take them off makes you shudder.

He’s rutting against you now, dick rubbing filthy over your panties and it dawns on you then that he hasn’t come yet, too preoccupied with taking care of you.

Determined, you slide one hand onto his asscheek, pushing him further into you, while your other grips his chin, pulling his mouth to yours in a slick, open-mouth kiss.

“C’mon Logan, fuck me, please.”

Logan turns into something animalistic then— flipping you over without warning, caging you between his arms. Your gasp is audible as he yanks your wet lace to the side, before thrusting forward, and fucks his cock into you with one thrust.

“Oh my god, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me—“ the feel of Logan finally inside you had you absolutely fucking drunk on the feel of him.

“Tryin’ to, baby.” He grits, arms flexing beside your head, fingers intertwining with yours as he sinks into you, inch by inch, until you were filled to the brim.

Logan’s body covers yours, lips pressing all over your shoulder blades to soothe the little whines you let out at how fucking full you felt. It’s everything you want and more— you want to memorize the feel of him, every ridge and vein as he bottoms out.

“Baby,” he grunts, fingers flexing with yours as he stays still, for your sake. “So fuckin’ tight, so fuckin’ wet.”

And it was true— despite the fact that he’s huge, he slipped in easily because of the mess you created, a slick mix of your come and desire that seeps from you.

“Logan, fuck me, please.” You ask so sweetly, as if you weren’t impaled by his cock right now.

With that, he slips out of you slowly, before fucking into you hard, deep. Then, he fucking ravishes you— creating a steady, fast paced rhythm and fucking you dumb with his cock.

You’re a whiny mess. Your hair grows darker, hands glittering between his grip each time he slams into you, each time your cunt squeezes around him.

Completely cock drunk, your back arches, ass up and hips slamming back against his with your cheek pressing into the mattress as you sob.

You’re so fucking needy that his own thighs are wet with your desire— he growls at the sight, fucking you even faster.

“You’re mine. Have been since you came here.” Logan growled, releasing your fingers in favor of gripping your hair and pulling you up until you were pressed into his chest. “My fuckin’ girl.”

“Yours!” You cry, tears rolling down your face. Your entire body jolts with pleasure, and you feel like you couldn’t breathe, not with how euphoria threatens to smother you. “M’so close!”

“I know, honey, I know. Can feel you fuckin’ squeezin’ around me.“ Logan moans out, pushing you back down into the mattress and finding purchase on your hips, pulling you back hard. “Gonna come all over me?”

You don’t answer, instead crying out as you feel a sharp flash of pain on your asscheek, Logan’s hand swift and quick. The pain mixes into pleasure when he rubs at the red skin, pressing sweet kisses on your back.

He wishes you could see yourself right now; maybe then you would understand why he was so intoxicated by you.

Your pretty body is bent over, ass up and face in the sheets as whimpers seep out. The lace that drove him crazy is yanked to the side, grazing his cock each time he drove deeper inside you. You’re so beautiful like this, he wants to keep you forever.

Sweet, little ‘uh,uh’s’ fill Logan’s ears as he speeds up, pulling you back up once more against his chest. He wants to be as close as fucking possible, the feel of your skin on his almost searing.

You turn your head back, lips seeking out his own. He kisses you, sucking at your lips as he continues to fuck you vigorously.

The fluttery feeling of your cunt squeezing around him suddenly sends him over the edge— low groans falling in your open mouth as hot, searing spurts of come coat your walls.

Knowing that Logan had lost it, finally giving into the temptation like you’d been doing all night, has you whining as your own orgasm surrounds your entire being.

“Baby—“ Logan thrusts shallowly, riding your orgasms out as long as he could; if he could, he’d never leave this feeling behind. Seemingly, you agreed as your nails dig into his forearms that hold you up, eyes squeezing shut at the overpowering bliss tingling everywhere. “I got you, it’s okay.”

“Logan, fuck!” It comes out as a huff, head against his sweaty neck, body completely limp in his hold.

You’d never been so incredibly sex-dazed in your life. From this moment onward, Logan has ruined you for anyone else.

Though, you hope there isn’t anyone else.

Logan kisses your head before untangling from you; a smirk dancing across his usually gruff features at the little whine let out as he pulls out. He gently rolls you onto your back, laying your head tenderly on the pillows. It was such a stark difference to the rough way he’d fucked you minutes prior, but butterflies flutter around your stomach all the same.

You watch his eyes trail lower, landing on the mess between your thighs.

Logan is mesmerized by the sight; your pussy is destroyed , so wet with his come seeping out of your hole. Mindlessly, he lowers himself until heieye level with your sex. Sans any warning, his fingers are thrusted back inside.

He ignores your hiss in favor of trying to push his come back inside, to keep you full of him. His eyes meet yours, watching as your chest rises as you observe him. There’s a glint in your eye that has his heart stuttering.

“I want to kiss you.” You whisper, soft and a little bashful, as if he didn’t have his fingers inside you. You look too fucking perfect, hair returning to its original color, eyes cloudy with unspoken words, a smile gracing your face.

How could he deny you when you looked like that?

Logan kisses your clit once, enjoying the way you jump before removing his fingers.

With those same digits, he sticks them in his mouth, sucking the flavor of you both and humming. He could hear the way your heart picked up at his actions. He releases them with a loud ‘pop’, before finally coming back to you.

He hovers over you, and like you’d done earlier, soft hands pull at the chain until his lips melt with yours in a soft kiss. Logan pulls back, resting his head on yours, eyes connecting with yours.

“Hi.” You giggle then, nose bumping his in the proximity.

“Hi, baby.” Logan kisses your lips once more, before rolling beside you. You would’ve whined at him if it weren’t for the way he immediately pulls you onto his chest.

With your limbs tangled, a kiss pressed to your forehead, you think this could be heaven and if so, you never wanted to leave.

It was quiet for a moment— the two of you content to listen to one another’s heartbeat, the breaths that fall from lips. Then, you break the silence, because of course you do.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“Just so you know, I’m expecting you to take me out before you get me like this again.” You mutter against his slick chest, where your head rests as you wrap yourself around the man like a koala.

A deep laugh fills the room, chest rumbling because what the fuck?

He’s fucked you, with his mouth and cock, and now you’re laying on him as his come seeps out of you and you’re demanding him to take you out?

He was going to in the first place, but he thinks it’s cute you decided for him.

Logan may be a man that’s been alive for almost two centuries, practically immortal, but it’s completely possible you’ll be the death of him.

˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚ fin

tags: @strangererotica @cevansbaby-dove @morganyourone @asiancupid

#It's been months and I'm still grateful for this scene

guns and roses

pairing: wolverine x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: your boyfriend’s back from a mission, and it becomes pretty obvious you missed each other. 

warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut with fluff sprinkles, slight choking, begging, slapping (once), unprotected sex (wrap it up guys pleasee!!), p in v, teasing, oral sex, breastplay, fingering, cumming inside

a/n: guys i swear i can write more things other than smut i’m just ovulating. also the title is from the ldr song, i don’t know if the band fits but if it does i’ll take the win.

masterlist. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁inbox

“You’re back”

It was morning. The pale sun had risen behind a thin veil of clouds and you had been up far too early, waiting and expecting, and in your own giddiness entirely missed the sound of his motorcycle pulling up. You were several steps away from the door when its handle rattled and the wood creaked open. Seeing the familiar figure of your boyfriend, you didn’t waste a moment in coming close, standing up from your bed.

“Didn’t mean to wake ya darlin’,”he held you closer to his chest by placing his hands on your hips. Logan had been gone on a mission for 2 weeks and you had very much missed him.

“Wasn’t sleeping,” you slid a palm slowly up his arm, until your hand nestled warmly on the back of his neck. “How did it go?” you asked.

“As I expected it.”

“And the contact?”

“Useless.”

“Oh.” You gave a fake pout, twirling a lock of his hair between your fingers. “And here I was waiting for you to come home as the newest global hero.”

He gave a curt laugh. “Waiting for me, huh?” he said, his eyes looking down at you in a way that made your skin heat up. You were in your bathrobe. Perhaps not the prettiest clothing item, but it was the nicest thing you owned and you knew exactly how its low cut showed you off.

You leaned in closer, letting the robe slip slightly off your shoulder. “Not at all,” you whispered.

Logan looked at you, a small smile tugging on his lips. “Right,” he said. And then, “C’mere.”

You moved in to kiss him readily, his hand on your cheek guiding you closer, mouths slipping together in a well versed familiarity. You weren’t one to doubt his abilities, but a fierce feeling of gladness came over you whenever you shared that first kiss after a time apart. You didn’t like it when he was gone and always had that special vulnerability course through you like a nervous strike of lightning upon seeing him again.

He was kissing you slowly, in that gentle way he showed at times, one hand in your hair and the other rubbing at your hip. There was something rather domestic about the notion, you thought to yourself, meeting him at the door with a robe on. You decided you liked that feeling.

His tongue ran across your bottom lip and you let him in, gladly, sighing into his mouth, before sputtering and pushing him away.

“You taste like shit,” you laughed suddenly, wiping at your mouth. When the excitement of his return faded, you actually looked at him properly for the first time. “And you look like shit too.”

“Oh thank you doll, always so sweet,” he chuckled.

“You taste like motor oil,” you said, unable to contain a smile as you looked him over and realised he was covered in grease marks, his military boots grimy to the hilt. “What the hell happened to you? Did you go into a sewer? Actually, no, don’t tell me. We decided on the don’t ask, don’t tell rule and I will stick to that. Go wash, then we can continue.”

“I think we can continue now,” he said in a low voice, reaching out for you again.

“No,” you said quickly, slipping out of his reach. “Logan you’re filthy.” 

He gave you an unimpressed look but began nudging a boot off with a foot. “Alright,” he muttered, haphazardly kicking his boots to the side and turning to the bathroom. You watched as he lazily tugged his shirt up and over his head. To your great amusement, you saw a faint line around his shoulders where clean skin met dirty.

Hearing the sound of water being turned on, you walked over to the window and peered at the sky outside. Faint clouds diluted the sun’s light, but they were grey in colour and the air was fresh that morning after a humid night. 

You cupped your cheek into a palm. You had missed Logan. Being apart made all sorts of thoughts rush through you, of confessions unsaid and feelings that maybe what he was doing with the xmen wasn’t the safest thing for him. You knew it wasn’t just about the sex, and that was enough sometimes, but since getting closer, hearing him speak, knowing that on the odd time he smiled wide his left cheek showed in it a dimple, there was something more behind your devotion. Something you knew you would need to voice someday, or perhaps leave it perfectly silent as it was already, whispered only in the hard kisses when he left and in the way you caressed his back when he had night terrors.

A hand lightly brushed the hair off the back of your neck, interrupting your thoughts.

“Care to inspect me now, officer?”

With a smile you turned, noting that his skin seemed a shade lighter, and wrapped your hands behind his head.

“Looking good,” you said, idly noticing he had a towel tied around his middle. “I can definitely see some improvement.”

“Even my hair is still damp.”

“Yeah, and I bet a whole handful of gunk came out of it.”

He rolled his eyes, tucking his arms around your waist. “Y’ sure know how to kill a mood, don’t you, sweetheart,” he muttered.

“Oh, I’ve been in the mood for days, baby.”

He kissed you like he was desperate, and you liked to believe he was. Your hands clawed into his hair, drawing him impossibly close, slipping your tongue into his mouth to meet his. One of his hands slid up to wrap itself warmly around your neck, the other at your hip held you tightly against his body.

To your surprise, you realised that he didn’t taste like cigarettes, even though you knew he smoked more while he was away. Instead, you could just faintly taste the cheap toothpaste you shared.

“What are you smiling about?” he breathed out, breaking away from you for an agonising moment.

What could you say, because you loved him? “I’ve been waiting for this,” you tell his mouth instead.

You let yourself be moved and pressed against the wall, barely registering anything beyond the way Logan was kissing you somewhere around your clavicle, and that one of his hands was sliding slowly down your body, pushing away folds of the robe. He palmed one of your breasts, the flat of his thumb drawing across your stiff nipple before pinching it, doing the same to the other. A jagged moan passed your lips as he slouched to bring his mouth to your chest, all teeth and tongue, biting hard on the flesh in a way you knew would leave a mark. His mouth covered your nipple, and you dug your nails into his shoulder as he suckled on it. Little sounds were coming out of your mouth without restraint and you couldn’t help but growl when his mouth came away with a wet sound.

“Pent up, baby?” he said with a smirk, his eyes dark as he leaned in to capture your lips. You felt his hand cup your breasts again, smearing his saliva across the hot skin, before moving over your ribs and the curve of your stomach and tugging the bathrobe loose.

You weren’t wearing anything beneath and he noticed and chuckled into your mouth.

“You really were waiting for me, huh?” He kissed you and leaned back, looking appreciatively over your bare body, running his hands over your hips and up again. “I wonder if you’re wet for me already, too.”

You didn’t get a moment to think of a coherent reply, though you knew the answer plainly, as his hand finally went to where you needed him most and your hips rocked into him as he slid his fingers easily through your wet folds. He breathed something you couldn’t decipher and leaned in close to bite your ear, a thumb brushing maddeningly light over your aching clit.

You rocked into him again, desperate for more, and he sucked on your neck, hard, enough to make you cry out, and slipped a finger easily inside you.

“So wet for me,” he murmured into the skin of your neck. “Did you fuck yourself thinking about this while I was gone?”

A second finger joined, and the heat pooling inside you seemed to almost make you dizzy and you leaned your head back against the wall, panting, nodding.

“Yes, yes,” you gasped, sucking in a breath as the fingers pulled out of you almost completely, and moaning as they were thrust back inside you. You wanted to say something more, but the words got lost in your mouth as his hand picked up speed and his thumb began to make agonising circles over your clit, and your brain couldn’t focus on anything except how good it felt. Logan was panting in your ear and you closed your eyes, one of your hands on his neck and the other gripping onto his arm, meeting every thrust of his fingers with your own hips.

His fingers curled inside you and you were grateful that your hands were on him, or else your knees may have buckled. An obscene sound came out of your mouth that he swallowed in a bruising kiss, teeth clacking painfully together as you both came close too forcefully, but the pain was immediately replaced with pleasure and you bit down on his bottom lip.

Suddenly, the fingers left you, and you almost swayed on your feet at the loss, making an unhappy noise. Forcing your heavy lidded eyes open, you felt your heartbeat in your throat as you watched Logan bring the slick covered fingers up and into his mouth. He gave you a look that promised you wouldn’t be walking later.

“Bed,” he rasped. “Now.”

You shrugged quickly out of the robe, letting it fall forgotten at your feet, and moved. You loved it when he got to the point of making orders.

“On your back, up against the pillows.”

You complied, breathing out of your mouth as you settled at the far end of the bed and watched Logan tug off his towel, kicking it to the side. Your eyes went immediately to a scar in his lower belly, and you traced its shape before looking at his cock, which was already hard and arching into his hand. Watching you, he slowly stroked himself.

“That was clean,” you said, in a voice you hoped sounded disapproving, nodding your head towards the towel.

“Right,” replied Logan, getting into bed. “Mention it again and I’ll gag you with it.”

It was a tempting offer, but you were in no mood to be quiet and, realising where he was positioning himself, instead eagerly parted your legs for him. He gave you a smug smile for that and, bringing his hands to your thighs, manoeuvred your knees over his shoulders. He pressed a few kisses and bites to your inner thighs but you could see he was stretched thin for more foreplay and you didn’t mind that at all.

Reaching out, you curled your fingers into his hair. You let your nails gently scratch against his scalp.

“Please,” you whispered. 

If his kisses were desperate, there was something more to the way he ate you out. The first broad lick from his tongue made your hand fist up in his hair, but if it hurt him he didn’t say. He took you greedily, fingers wrapped so tight around your thighs it always left you with bruises, tongue lapping you up in quick, hard strokes.

You were moaning openly, interrupted by gasps whenever his lips would focus on your clit or the tongue pushed deep. A heavy heat was building through you, and you could feel the muscles in your abdomen tighten. One hand holding on to the headboard behind you, you looked with hazy eyes at Logan, noting the red marks over your thighs, the way his dark hair spilled across your skin. He wasn’t looking at you and you noticed his shoulders jerk out of rhythm to his mouth and, somehow, your temperature only got hotter.

“Are you fucking yourself, Logan?” you said in a shuddering voice, feeling sweat slide down the side of your face, breathing heavily. “Are you fucking yourself to my pussy?”

He shifted and you pulled away your hand as he lifted his head. Your mind spun seeing your own slick glisten on his lips and mouth.

You thought he was about to answer, but instead he pushed his sweat darkened hair out of his eye and gave you a dog like grin.

As his mouth lowered again, he had a finger in you, and then a second. By the time he slipped the third one in, you could feel your orgasm building. He was sucking on your swollen clit, fingers pushing hard and fast into you, the wet noise only covered by your own wanton sounds.

Your fingers, once again in his hair, trembled and tugged.

“I’m close,” you forced out, biting hard on your bottom lip, nails scraping against the wood of the headboard. “Fuck, Logan. I’m close.”

“Oh, yeah?” You could just feel him smile as he said the words against you. It made you tug harder on his hair, in a way you knew would burn, and that brought in him a new vigour and his fingers inside you curled against your front wall.

You were pretty sure you screamed. He did it again and the orgasm hit you like a red hot flame, your hips only barely being held down by his free hand, bucking into his fingers and mouth. He fucked you through it, until you shuddered with your entire body, throat too tired to make another sound, chest heaving as you blinked and stared at the ceiling.

“Wow,” you said.

You heard a chuckle and watched Logan lick his fingers and wipe the back of his hand over his mouth before coming close and kissing you. You loved kissing him like that. There was something about tasting your own self in somebody else’s mouth that drove you insane.

“I don’t think I can feel my legs,” you told him, running your fingers down his chest, not ignoring the way his breath stuttered as you did.

“I’ll make you feel ‘em again,” he said.

You hummed into his mouth, lips curling into a smile as you finally took him into your hand, stroking him with an easy flick of the wrist, eating up every little sound he made.

“Looks like it’s time for us to switch sides,” you breathed, smearing his pre-cum under your hand, the touch familiar and making you ache for more. “How do you want me?”

He didn’t ask. In a quick movement you found yourself on top of him, the wind knocked out of you, both of his hands on your hips. You grinned.

“Alright, baby,” you said. You leaned forward, running your hands over his body, rocking just enough against his cock that it made him hiss. You moved in to kiss him, letting your breasts press against his chest. “I’ll make you feel good.”

You rolled your hips, a shudder of pleasure going through the both of you as his cock brushed over your sensitive clit. If your head wasn’t in post-orgasmic bliss you might have thought it mildly embarrassing how wet you were or how you readily awaited to come again. But you didn’t care about that, you cared about feeling good and making sure Logan felt that extra. With an evil little smile you arched your back, holding on to his shoulder as you kept rocking your wet cunt over him, and wrapped your free hand over his neck.

It was a gentle hold, enough to explain what you wanted to do and enough for him to decline. This wasn’t yet a common thing the two of you did, but you wouldn’t have minded if it was. You looked at him but he didn’t decline, only stared back at you, hand gripping your thigh, breathing through an open mouth. You tightened your hold, only by a fraction, rewarded by a groan, and then you tightened it again and he leaned his head back, opening more of his neck to your hand.

Your mouth was going dry. You felt like you could come undone by his expression alone, head thrown back and eyes closed, hair sticking to the back of your hand. You leaned in close, listening as his breath caught in his throat, and gave his neck a squeeze.

The noise that came out of him was unholy. He bucked beneath you in a way that made you suck in your own breath before pressing your lips warmly against his ear.

You went to kiss him again but suddenly he wasn’t there and with a yelp you found yourself being rolled roughly onto your back and Logan’s teeth instead by your ear.

“Think you can just tease me the whole time?” he growled, his weight on your body driving you crazy, hand roughly palming your breast. “Think I haven’t been waiting for this too?”

Oh, God.

“Beg for it.”

“Fuck me,” you whispered, hands grabbing at his face and arms and side. “God, please, Logan, fuck me. Please.”

He raked his teeth down your neck and you cried out, nails scratching his back as he positioned himself above you, lifting one of your legs under his arm, licking the red mark he had left.

“Fuck, Logan, please. Please.”

You had dreamed of this. You were so wet that he slid inside you easily, and you released a sound that was half a moan and half a sigh of relief. He filled you up perfectly, stretching you in the way that you knew and craved. Your sensitive cunt seemed to feel it all twice-fold and you felt your eyes close in pleasure.

He pulled out of you, slowly, almost until the tip, before pushing back in a quick, hard thrust that sent your head flying back, the feeling amplified by your position. He didn’t take you slowly, he fucked you hard and fast, until your individual moans became a single, desperate sound. Your hands scrambled to find purchase on the bed, getting a fistful of sheets when his thumb pressed roughly over your clit, sending hot sparks through you.

The sound of flesh against flesh intermixed with your breaths was intoxicated. You reached for the hand that was at your cunt and brought it up to your mouth, licking his fingers and running your tongue over the joints. You could feel his grip tighten over your slowly numbing leg and opened your mouth a tad, so he could see your tongue swirl around the digits, smirking.

His next thrust wiped the smile off your face. He was hitting you in the sweet spot that sent you seeing stars, and the wet fingers went over to your hip instead, holding you firmly down as he wanted you. And you had no qualms about that. You could already feel a second orgasm growing.

Then you felt the sharp snap of teeth over your ear and Logan snarl, “Turn over. Now.”

You practically whined as he pulled out of you, quickly grappling a pillow and rolling over to your front. His hands parted your legs from behind and you heard him spit and shuddered as fingers ran through your swollen, wet folds.

“You’re driving me fucking crazy, sweetheart,” he muttered above you.

You rocked your hips into his hand, looking over your shoulder and watching, hungrily, as he stroked himself while touching you.

“Why don’t you fuck me like you mean that then?” you said.

You memorised his buttons like a sailor memorised the stars. With a noise you were pushed forward, nose in the pillow you quickly managed to salvage, and then he was fucking you, one hand gripping your hip while the other slapped you sharply across the ass. You tried to match his speed but he didn’t let you, pressing you firmly down against the bed with his own weight until the only thing you could do was bite the pillow, crying out with every thrust.

A second orgasm was heating up inside you. One of his hands had tangled itself in your hair, every sharp tug only making your muscles tighten. You were overwhelmed with it all, euphoria like bright lights behind your eyes. You wanted to give yourself to him, every part of you until there was nothing left, opening up like a flower in bloom.

His weight shifted and you could feel him on top of you, feel the way his hot breaths landed on your skin.

“You close, baby?” he rasped.

You groaned and blabbered something that you hoped sounded like an affirmative. You were so sensitive and full, you knew you needed only a small push to tip over the edge again.

You felt his stubble scratch against you and then the telltale drag of his hand beneath, over your chest, down your stomach.

“Oh, god.”

His deft fingers were at your clit and you everything but mewled as he began to rub at it, every thrust hitting you perfectly. He was somewhere behind your neck, panting, pressing kisses and bites on your skin.

“Come for me,” he coaxed in a low voice. “You know I like it when you do. Come on, doll. Just for me.”

His fingers and his cock were all too much. You came undone with a loud cry, clenching around him as his fingers worked over your clit. The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave and your thighs shook, gripping at the headboard as his breath hitched and he came too, fucking you through it, leaning heavily over your back. You felt your vision turn hazy and gave a moan as you felt him spill inside you, moving your hips what little bit you could into his jagged thrusts, eating up every breathless sound he made by your ear. He pushed into you a couple more times before halting, breathing like a bull behind your head.

Whimpering as he pulled out, you watched with sated eyes as he lay down beside you with a heavy groan.

“Shit,” he whispered, out of breath, and in your stupor you couldn’t help but smile.

The clouds ended up defeating the sun and with the blinds half drawn the room turned dark and grey. You were lying on your back and Logan sat on the edge of the bed to your left. You idly rubbed a hand over his back, the both of you comfortably nude, drawing shapes over the red marks you had made. In his left hand he held a lit cigar and was slowly turning his leather jacket around in his right.

“Is that a fucking bite mark?” he said with a snort, holding up the jacket.

You didn’t stop your hand. “I missed you,” you said, grinning at the ceiling.

Logan chuckled at that, giving the jacket one more look before throwing it over to a chair beside the wall. He took a quick drag and blew out strands of smoke. There was something aggressive about the way he smoked. 

You ran your palm up to his shoulder, thumb making gentle circles in the skin.

“Did you miss me too, Logan?” you asked quietly.

There was that vulnerability again. You had never asked that question properly before, not without a defence of being coy or teasing. You began thinking of ways you could laugh it off when he sighed and brought his cigarette again to his mouth.

“I did,” he said.

You looked at him, at the familiar curve of his back, at the lines of muscle that you had long memorised and knew by touch. He didn’t turn around and he didn’t look at you yet somehow those were the most genuine words you had ever shared.

The bed gave a miserable creak as you sat up, reaching to put both your hands on his shoulders, pressing your chest against his back and tucking your chin into the curve of his neck. He sighed again, and leaned into your touch.

“I’ll have to go again soon,” he said.

“I know.”

“It’ll be a few days at the least.”

You ran your fingers through his hair, prodding gently at the scalp, tucking away the small, relaxed sound he made deep into your heart.

“I know, baby.”

He took a drag and turned his face away from you to blow away the smoke.

my little voyeur

neighbour!loganxvoyeur!reader

a/n: so sorry about the hiatus, started university and midterms are already here, crazy. anyway, enjoy this little idea i had, inspired by a real life situation. xox

wc:3.1k

MDNI !!! 18+, AGE GAP, SEXUAL CONTENT, ALCOHOL USE

summary: Y/N is growing needier with every one-night stand her hot neighbour brings over, one night she decides to be his next.

"-Oh fuck, keep going!" A muffled voice cried between the rhythmic thumping noises that came from the ceiling above you.

You bit down on your lip, shifting needily on your sofa. 

"Here we go again" You mumbled to yourself, glancing at the clock on your microwave.

8:37 PM. 

"Earlier than usual... Do you have to be somewhere early tomorrow?" You pressed the mute button on your TV remote to get a better listen.

The intrigue in your neighbour's activity had been a shameful recent development. He'd have company over almost every night now; which meant constant, rough sex.

The shared two-story house was old, and the walls were poorly insulated, which surely didn't aid your newfound obsession. Your unit was the basement suite: a homely one-bedroom, one-bathroom with a large kitchenette and living room. Even though you both lived in the same quarters, you both had your own respective spaces and entrances, which meant you rarely crossed paths. 

You knew little about the man upstairs, only that he lived alone, wasn't the talkative type, and rode a Harley Davidson that was equally as loud as his one-night stands.

Though it was ill-mannered of him to be as careless as he was, you couldn't stop yourself from being attracted to him. He might've had a good twenty years on you, but that didn't matter in this case. 

The man was in phenomenal shape for his age; You had come home one day to him working on his bike, shirtless. His physique was composed of thick broad shoulders that counterbalanced his narrow waist and muscular biceps that bulged beneath his skin, flowing seamlessly into veiny forearms. Dark curls of hair stretched downwards from his brawny chest, over his chiselled abs and disappeared into the denim waistband of his wranglers. 

To pair with that irresistible body, was a charmingly rugged face. Thick, untamed eyebrows cast a shadow over his piercing hazel eyes, while dense sideburns traced the sharp angles of his jawline. His short, spiked hair flared into two distinct tufts on either side of his head, adding to his wild, primal look.

"-Logan! I'm coming!" The voice screamed. Since this all began, you found yourself feeling rather bitter. Not only was it rude and annoying but from what you managed to pick up, most nights they would be playing out the very type of fantasies you'd always had but never got the chance to experience.

You let out a heavy sigh, feeling that excitement slowly pool in your lower stomach. You knew this would end soon, Logan seemed to have quite the routine, so your impending neediness wouldn't go any farther. 

His partners were usually dead silent for the rest of the night, presumably busy sleeping off the intense sex, which made the inconvenience somewhat tolerable. The only time they would potentially disturb you again was as they made their exit down the stairs the morning after. You could catch glimpses of them as they passed in front of your kitchen window, usually around the time you'd be having your coffee. 

From the looks of it, he had a type: girls your age. They'd always be dressed in last night's skimpy outfit, with knotted hair, but somehow still looked gorgeous. As they stumble their way to the taxi at the edge of the driveway. You'd observe them closer pressing up the glass, often spiking your jealousy.  

The first few you had laid eyes on made you snicker a jaded"How original."  But you were well used to it by now. 

Logan was your typical walking mid-life crisis; Bringing home adventurous young women, fucking their brains out, sending them away in a yellow chariot and never talking to them again. From the frequency of these one-night stands it looked as if he was trying to satisfy a hunger he couldn't seem to fulfill. Almost like preparing for hibernation.

 He was living the bachelor life that men his age could only dream of having, but there was something about the whole routine that felt...off. It was as if every conquest left him more empty, more distant and detached from everything and everyone around him. It wasn't just women that Logan indulged in, he was also a heavy drinker. You could tell by the recycling bin, always overflowing with liquor bottles, and the fact that the few times you'd been to The Black Lodge—the only bar in small-town Burns, Alaska—you had seen him there

You watched from your bar stool, careful to remain unnoticed. The brief exchanges between him and the bartender made it clear he was a regular—no need for small talk, just an easy, practiced silence. Logan's eyes, however, never lingered on the glass of neat whiskey in front of him. Instead, his gaze swept over the crowd, scanning for his next target, his posture relaxed but predatory. Despite his intimidating exterior, there was something magnetic about the way he worked the room, luring them in with lustful glances. He wasn’t just playing the game—he was built to win.

His trophy shelf was overflowing, yet there was no trace of happiness in Logan’s eyes.

You couldn’t help but wonder if this was the Logan everyone else saw—rough around the edges, careless, chewing through women and booze as if they were nothing more than fleeting distractions. Or was there something deeper, a hidden tenderness that only emerged behind closed doors? He never had family or friends over, just a revolving door of women. His life seemed lonely, private, and it made you wonder what demons gnawed at him when the nights grew quiet and the distractions faded away.

Was it trauma? 

Regret?

Or just the inevitable realization that his time was running out?

A part of you cared and wanted to be there for him, but it wasn't as simple as ringing his doorbell, he was unapproachable. During the few interactions you shared, he made it unmistakably clear that he had no interest in forming any kind of relationship with you. His responses were dry and curt, laced with a dismissive tone that cut down any hope of connection. Each word felt like a brick wall being built between you. He practically didn't look at you the entire time, keeping his eyes focused everywhere else but on yours. You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment with every exchange, it was as if he was purposefully keeping you at arm's length.

Through your confusion, you understood why. You weren't what he was interested in, you couldn't contribute to his unfaltering hunger. You were more than happy to not be categorized with what he'd bring home from the bar, but a slight part of you wished that for one night, you would be. 

The selections were slim in Burns and you were newer to the area, which made it impossible to call for a late-night booty call, unlike him. It had been a long time since you'd last been with someone and the constant exposure to Logan's fruitful sex life made you grow needier by the day, which is where your obsession initially formed.

It began with something small, almost too innocent to notice. You found yourself paying closer attention to his everyday routine, drawn by curiosity. You’d glance out the window to check if his motorcycle was parked in the yard, and when you heard the faint sound of his footsteps starting the day, you’d instinctively check the clock taking mental notes of his wake-up times.

Before you knew it, your interest had evolved into something deeper, something far more personal. You began noticing his trash in your shared waste bin; discarded remnants of his life blending into your obsession. At the liquor store, you found yourself buying the same brand of beer he preferred, curious to experience the taste that would linger on his lips if you kissed him. At the supermarket, you began to choose the same detergent, not for practical reasons, but to breathe in the scent that clung to his skin.

There was a day that he left his Johnny Cash shirt outside. He tossed it on the ground carelessly after working up a sweat while fixing something in the yard. When he left, you ran out and took it. As your compulsion grew, so did your need for closeness to him. The shirt became more than just a relic of him—it was a trigger. 

You began wearing it late at night, feeling its used fabric against your skin. While the sounds of him having sex filtered through the thin walls. The rhythmic creaking of his bed upstairs, the faint moans, you’d inhale it deeply, lost in his scent. You'd thrust your fingers deep inside of you, following along with his rhythm, imagining it was him inside you—picturing how Logan would take control, filling you with the intensity you longed for. In those moments, it was as if he belonged to you, even if just in fantasy.

Your cheeks flushed red as you listened along, It was become too much to handle. You unmuted your episode and got up, needing to find some distraction. 

"It’s almost over," you told yourself, trying to ignore the urge to grab his shirt and take care of things right then and there. Instead, you walked over to the unpacked boxes in the corner of your living room, hoping to find a distraction.

As you opened the cardboard, you started sifting through the mismatched stuff crammed inside. Your fingers brushed against something soft and bristly, sparking your curiosity. You tightened your grip and pulled it out for a better look. To your surprise, it was an old wig from a Halloween costume—vivid and wild, a memory you had almost forgotten.

The faint sounds you were trying so hard to ignore managed to slip through anyway, sparking a devilish idea as you twirled the wig in your hands. You were going to get his attention, whether he liked it or not. A mischievous grin spread across your face; this could be your way in. It was time to shake things up and show him a side of you he hadn’t seen yet. 

It was the next day, and you knew for sure that Logan would be at that bar, just like he was every Thursday. You stepped inside, adjusting the wig discreetly, tucking away any hint of your natural colour, determined to become someone new for the night. This was a wild idea, but desperate times called for bold measures. You were dying for some relief and he was the only remedy for this ache you couldn’t shake.

The bar buzzed with energy, a lively crowd which meant you had competition. But tonight, you were set on one thing: going home with him, and anyone else.

You’d dressed the part—skin exposed, tight-fitting clothes that hugged your curves just right, making you feel both powerful and vulnerable at the same time. 

You scanned the bar, your heart racing as you spotted him in his usual seat. The moment you walked in, his eyes locked onto you, holding your attention captive. You averted your gaze and took a shaky breath, your feet guiding you across the room, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Pretending not to notice his gaze, you played coy, an enticing smile dancing on your lips. You slid into the seat across from him and reached for the black menu that lay before you, feigning interest in the options. Your eyes traced the words, but your mind was elsewhere—focused on the weight of his stare and the electric tension building between you.

The bartender approached, and you quickly ordered the first thing your eyes landed on, feeling a rush of nerves. You folded the menu neatly, deliberately turning your attention to the crowd, avoiding his gaze, you weren't playing his game, you were playing yours. The thrill of the chase sent a shiver down your spine. The bar chattered around you, laughter and conversation creating a lively backdrop as you focused on maintaining an air of nonchalance, even as you could feel his eyes on you, studying you with that intensity.

A beautiful stemmed glass slid in front of you, snapping your attention to your hands. You mumbled a thankyou and you took a sip, savouring the sweet burn as it slid down your throat. It gave you a moment to gather your thoughts. Just as you were about to steal a glance his way, you noticed from your peripheral that he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. That confident look told you he knew exactly what you were doing.

"Nice wig," he said, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the noise of the bar like a knife. The compliment sent a rush of heat to your cheeks, but you kept your expression cool, shooting him a sidelong glance as if you were just as unfazed by him.

“Thanks,” you replied, forcing a casual tone. “Just thought I’d switch things up a bit.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. The game was on, and you were ready to play.

Logan leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “It suits you, it's different.”

You felt a thrill at his words, the compliment warming you in ways you hadn’t anticipated. You kept your composure, but inside, your heart raced. “I like keeping things interesting,” you replied, matching his playful tone.

The atmosphere around you shifted slightly, the crowd fading into the background as you locked eyes again. The moment felt charged, filled with unspoken possibilities. You could sense the magnetic pull between you intensifying, and it was exhilarating.

He took a sip of his drink, never breaking eye contact. “Well, you're doing a good job of doing that."

You smiled, feeling a rush of confidence. “It's just a little bit of fun for a Thursday night. What about you? Same old routine, I bet?”

His smirk widened a glint of challenge in his eyes. “You could say that. But maybe I’m looking for something different tonight.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. This was the moment you’d been waiting for. You leaned forward, pushing your breasts together. “Well, that's hard to imagine. What’s your idea of different?”

 Logan’s eyes dropped to your cleavage. “How about we take this conversation somewhere a little more private?” His voice was low, rich with promise, and it sent a jolt of anticipation through you.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning casualness even as your heart raced. "And where would that be?”

He chuckled softly, a deep, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “How about the upstairs at your place?”

The two of you made your way up the narrow staircase, the familiar creak of the wooden steps echoed in the silence. You could feel the heat radiating off him, each step heightening the anticipation of what was to come. You both reached his door, and his keys jingled as he unlocked it.

The door swung open, and you stepped inside as he held the door open for you. The soft light from his living room illuminated the space, casting warm shadows that danced along the walls. The place was surprisingly tidy, with the scent of cedar and booze lingering in the air.

Logan followed you in, closing the door behind him with a deliberate click that sent a thrill down your spine. “Welcome to my humble abode,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

You didn't know what you expected but it wasn't this. You took in the details of his space—artwork hung at odd angles, a well-worn couch sat invitingly in the center, and an empty whiskey glass perched on the coffee table. It was comfortable, lived-in, and spoke to the kind of man he was.

“Nice place,” you said, trying to sound casual, but your pulse quickened as you caught the intensity of his gaze. A beat passed.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, a hint of seriousness threading through his playful tone.

Your heart raced at the implication of his question. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” you replied biting your lip,  voice steady from a boldness surging through you.

Logan smirked, his expression shifting from playful to something more primal and dark. 

“Good. Because I don’t plan on holding back. Gotta teach you a lesson after all,”

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, backing you against the wall with a firm press of his body. The warmth of him enveloped you, and you felt your breath hitch as he leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from yours. As he grabbed your face, his calloused fingers dug into your cheeks roughly, parting your lips open.

“I know you took my shirt, you fucking freak,” he murmured, his voice thick and husky.

You were unable to form words as you felt the threat of what was to come flood your senses. Your heartbeat stammered in your rib cage, fear overcoming you but there was a thrilling undercurrent of excitement that was hard to ignore. Logan’s intense gaze held you captive, and the edge in his voice sent the tension crackling in the air between you.

“You didn’t think I’d notice?” he continued, a low chuckle escaping his lips, laced with a hint of danger. “A man owns about three good shirts and is bound to notice when one goes missing.” His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, making your breath hitch again, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond.

“You’ve been watching me,” he stated, his voice dropping even lower. “Spying on me like some lovesick teenager. It’s cute, but it’s also… a little sick.” The intensity in his gaze softened slightly, a flicker of something deeper behind his fierce exterior.

You swallowed hard, the words caught in your throat. “I—”

“Save it,” he interrupted, his grip tightening around your jaw just enough to keep your attention focused on him. “Don't give me excuses. Tell me why.”

The question hung in the air, heavy and charged. What could you possibly say that would explain the tangled web of emotions and desires that had led you here? His proximity was intoxicating, and the conflict between fear and yearning made your head spin.

“I... I just wanted to understand you,” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I hear you with the women you bring home... and I want that. ”

Logan's smile grows somehow even darker. "So ya' got all dressed up for me because you want me to fuck you like I do with the others? That right, sweetheart?" 

The only thing you could do at this moment was give him an eager nod, the ache between your legs growing shamefully larger by the second. 

“I’ll give you what you want kid', but you need to know something first.” He paused slightly, the air between you thick with tension. 

“I’m the best at what I do, and I don’t do it very nicely.”

cliff hanger I know, but i'm such a slut for teasing.

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70s logan moodboard

i love men who look like theyve been through some of the most horrendous shit ever sorry

as most girls do

don’t even get me started on how good he looked in this movie 😫

This or nothing

Crazy hot hands