Hii!! I Was Wondering If You Could Write A Short Blurb About Logan With A Very Stressed Kind Of Partner,

hii!! i was wondering if you could write a short blurb about logan with a very stressed kind of partner, maybe with college work or somethung similar and gets easily anxious and overwhelmed. thank you!!!!

ease -logan howlett

every night, logan watched as you sat in the dining room and worked on essay after essay. you always asked him to let you work in peace which he always respected but lately, you've been staying up late and barely eating. he knew he had to step in soon.

"why don't ya' take a break, babydoll?" logan called from the couch.

for the past twenty minutes, he's been listening to your foot tap rapidly against one of the wooden table legs. it wasn't as annoying as it was worrisome.

"can't." your pen clicks three times. "gotta study for my test on monday."

you return to your scribbling of notes, missing how logan gets up to join you at the table with a beer in his hand. he pulls out the chair next to you and pats his lap.

"c'mere." logan says. the dark circles around your eyes break his heart. "please, baby. five minutes."

"five minutes." you sigh, giving in to him.

within seconds, logan places you in his lap. you tuck the side of your face into his neck while your feet dangle back and forth. logan wraps his arms around your waist, letting you get as comfortable as you need. he could feel your body relax against his. logan places a kiss against your temple while listening to you talk about the class you were taking.

there was something about logan's presence that always put you at ease. he spoke to you in more ways than just verbal communication. his arms were the safest place in the world for you to be.

five minutes turned to ten which turned to thirty. eventually, you fell silent except for a few soft snores. logan finishes his beer, listening to your heartbeat before carefully picking you up and carrying you bridal style into your bedroom. as he places you against the soft sheets, you begin to stir softly.

"shh..." logan whispers to you. "go back to bed, princess."

too tired to fight him on this, your body curls against the sheets. logan undresses you and throws his shirt over you to sleep in. when he climbs in next to you, your body retorts back to its natural state against his. logan always told you that he was the lucky one in your relationship but you were pretty lucky to have him too.

feelin like cassie lately

need so desperately to be in logans lap while he runs his hands through my hair and mumbles how pretty i am

yeah, you can call me a whore but i know for a fact that old man!logan calling me princess would cure me.

like just imagine sitting in his lap, all cozied up, wrapped perfectly between his muscular arms. thinking about his calloused fingers molding the flesh of your ass, firmly holding you still against him.

you shy away from him, pressing your face against his chest as his hands continue to work at your ass. his muscles tensing as you slowly grind against him, hesitant in giving into your aching desires.

he bring his hands up to cup your face, tracing his thumb against your bottom lip. his salt-and-pepper beard tickles your face as he showers you in gentle kisses.

“don’t be shy, princess.” he murmurs, his thumb slipping into your mouth, and your tongue wraps around him. you hollow your cheeks, and the wanton pop that follows when you release him slices the tension in the air.

“look at me.” he commands, tipping your chin upwards, and you look right at him through your mascara clumped eyelashes.

your vision is hazy, brain is fuzzy—but one thing’s for sure, you need him, carnally. your eyes almost light up when you spot the smirk forming at the corner of his mouth, seeing how in awe you are from the slightest touch from him.

“there you are, kiddo” he coos, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. “there’s my princess.”

dad bf!logan who never lets you do stuff on your own!!! carries you around everywhere, puts your shoes on for you, feeds you himself, helps you get dressed, brush your teeth, take a bath, brushes your hair. always thinks you're "too little" to be watching adult shows and films, comments on your age and how small you are compared to him. puts his thumb in your mouth like a makeshift pacifier, buys you stuffed animals, calls himself "daddy" or "dada" he'd call you "bubba", "babydoll", "babygirl", "little one", "kiddo", "baby" <3

She stared at her reflection in the glossed shop windows as if to make sure, moment by moment, that she continued to exist.

Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar