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~~~18+ MDNI with explicit content~~~

I desperately need to be Logan’s pretty little housewife especially because after the life he’s lived he needs a touch of domesticity in his life.

Like imagine him getting a regular old blue collar job and coming home at the end of a hard days work, kicking off his work boots leaving them at the door. His body aching for a nice cold beer, and he just walks into the kitchen to see his pretty little wife in the kitchen, her apron tied around her waist, some music playing while she cooks his favorite meal. She’s got no idea that he’s there cause she of course can’t hear over the music playing, she’s too focused on not burning the food, and he doesn’t want to interrupt her, he wants to just stand there and admire the sight of her for a minute, letting it sink in that this really is his life now. No battles or fighting supervillains, just him and his little house at the end of the culdasac, and his pretty little wife who he met, and out of nothing short of a miracle managed to woo and marry her. And he genuinely can’t believe that such a sweet thing like her is his, that she loves him even with his attitude and rough edges. Especially not after the life he’s lived. And yet here she is, as real as the scars in his heart that slowly but surely she’s healing, without even knowing it.

He’s finally had enough of just memorizing the outline of her figure, and he steps towards her wrapping his arms around her tightly, keeping her close even as she jumps in suprise commenting on how she didn’t even notice he was home. He doesn’t respond, he just burries his nose in her hair just breathing in her scent, kissing the top of her head, as she giggles continuing to stir the food on the stove. But he’s not satisfied with just holding her, fearing she’ll slip through his fingers and leave like almost everybody else. He needs to feel her. His hands grow eager gripping her shirt tight in his hands. And she gently tries to push them away claiming she needs to focus on dinner. His mouth trails kisses down from the top of her head to the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply. He growls in her ear something about ordering food instead and she shakes her head. If she needs to keep her eye on the food that’s fine, he’s flexible. But he can’t wait any longer, needs to prove to himself that she’s his, lifting her dress and splaying his hand across her abdomen as he sinks inside her as far as he can get, reveling in the quiet whimpers of pleasure she makes. He murmurs about keeping her focus on the food, waiting till she nods her agreement before he grips her hips tight and tries his best to distract her.

Edit: Since so many of y'all like this I might turn it into an actual fic...

oh my goodness.. thinking about logan overstimulating you until you cry

(nsfw)

you’re shaking, riding out the remnants of your orgasm, and logan’s holding you, your body cradled in his arms as he wraps you in a tight hold, mumbling sweet nothings into the crown of your head.

“it’s ok, bub. i’m right here.” 

you sniffle, soaking the neck of his t-shirt with your tears as you cry, solely from overstimulation.

“i can’t anymore, lo.” you mumble, limbs heavy and exhausted. your mind feels fuzzy and you can’t help but seek comfort from him. everything is just too much - even the feeling of his scruffy beard and soothing palm rubbing circles on your back.

but logan doesn’t listen. he gently lays you back down on the bed again, setting your head on the pillow and giving you a few reassuring caresses as he carefully spreads your legs open. you hear the click of the wand vibrator being turned on again as logan speaks.

“yes you can, baby. c’mon, just one more for me.”

nsfw: minors dni, please!

cw: riding, voyeurism, wade being annoying & interrupting, logan loves pet names <3

personally, i just feel that if you were riding logan in his bedroom after an exhausting day at work, and wade barges in the room to complain about something, logan wouldn't make you stop </3

like he's holding you sooooo close to his sweaty chest, gritting out "love you, baby. huh? you know that? you know how much i fuckin' love you?" while you bounce & whine & suddenly his bedroom door bursts open and in comes an oblivious wade screaming about a mission he was just on & logan SPRINGS into action.

he pulls his soft, flannel blanket over your shoulders, and keeps you in the bear hug he has you in, but he pushes your head to his chest— keeping you completely tucked into him with a "shhh 's alright, sweetheart, keep goin' he's almost finished."

just having a full on vent session with wade while you ride him & weep & shudder. and when you do finish he stops the conversation and tuts "good girl. good girl, honey. close your eyes and squeeze me for a few more minutes, alright? let 'er gimme one more kiss for the night."

omg messy sex with logan though…

nsfw - smut

i’m definitely not talking about the soft sheets and candlelit bedroom kind of sex. not even about the clothes discarded on the floor in a hurry type of sex. i’m talking about absolutely filthy sex, the one where you’re just so fucking desperate and whiny, he can’t help but tear your clothes off of you; where your legs are propped up on his shoulders, allowing him easier access, his cock so deep inside, you can feel him in your tummy. 

“can you feel me right here, baby?” logan asks, pressing on your evident tummy bulge with his palm, his cock pressing up against that spongy spot deep inside you. you’re fucking drooling, fiddling with the sheets, twisting, scratching, begging to hold onto anything as logan thrusts into you. 

the kind of sex where when your orgasm crashes over you, you get dizzy, absolutely engulfed in this feeling of bliss, moving up against him to get more.

“i’m right here, doll. i’ve got you.” logan grunts above as his own thrusts get sloppier, your cunt pulsing around his cock, squeezing him for dear life. he’s grabbed your hand now, helping you ride out your orgasm. but it’s soon after he cums that you start squirming around him again, his half-hard cock throbbing inside you. 

“fuck, baby, you’re gonna be the death of me.” logan chuckles above you, still catching his breath. you’re tired yourself, this being your second orgasm of the still early night. but you’re determined to wear him down ;)

nsfw thoughts minors dni, 18+ only plz,

warnings: fem!reader, pussy eating, touch starved logan, hair pulling

thinking about worst!logan who hasn't been intimate with someone in a long time and though he doesn't want to admit it he's touch starved to hell. In his world everyone hates him and the alcohol quells any desire he once had. So when Wade brings him to his world, to you, it's hard to even be around you sometimes. You're gorgeous, perfect, so nice. How you ever fell for a guy like him is a mystery. He holds back because he doesn't want to scare you or even worse, hurt you.

But when your fingers run through his hair, a teasing remark about his hair tuffs he can't help but groan and when you tug on his hair, just a little. He has to dig his fingers into his palm to stop himself from moaning. It takes everything not to lose control. But you don't want him to hold back anymore.

You tease him relentlessly, waiting for him to break. Fingers clawing at his chest, kisses littered down his neck, moving his hands lower and lower until he can't take it anymore. Touch starved Logan who buries his face into your cunt, feasting like an animal until he's satisfied. Mumbling what a good girl you are, how amazing you taste. His hands are squeezing and touching anything he can. He's ruining you beyond your wildest dreams and when you think he's done, chest heaving and eyes blown wide with lust, he turns you on your stomach. Whispering in your ear how he's waited for this and how he's going to take all night.

— burning slow

logan howlett x inexperienced!f!reader

rated e - 1.2k

tags: reader is nervous but excited about sex, soft!logan, dual pov, touching, feelings, hint of an innocence kink, oral sex, fingering, PiV

an expansion of this lovely ask, because I couldn’t stop thinking about it 💕

The exchange is fluid, shifting between you. How you call every shot, his fingers and tongue working you until you cry out. More. Harder. Faster. There, Logan. Please-

Brought back to him in the way you place your pleasure in his hands, wrapped around fingers that crook deep. Wrenching you to a peak that leaves you trembling - his voice a low croon as your cries are muffled into your pillow.

Logan bites back a groan at the shift of your hips. How you grind down almost unconsciously, letting him angle your eager mouth against his. The sound slipping free from his throat when your fingers tighten in his hair.

It’s not the first time his mouth has met yours.

Stolen moments around the grounds, always leaving him wanting more. Leaving you with eyes half-lidded and lips kiss-swollen, and it’s impossible not to image them elsewhere. Mapping out each and every inch of him.

But it’s the first time he’s had you alone. Entwined fingers as you sneak him into your room - as if you were both students. His back pressed against the headboard as your thighs spread wide to straddle him.

The hitch in your breath, as you feel him beneath you. A thick curve of desire, pressed snug against your core. His own need a low pulse in his guts, a rhythmic lift of his hips to meet the downward rock of your own.

A rough sound that he swallows, as his hand slips up to cup your breast - your soft flesh molding to his broad palm. There’s the kick of your heart, rabbiting behind your ribs. Your scent threatening to overwhelm him.

Clinging to you, where it settles between your thighs. Where you meet him meet, a low whine as you grind down just a little harder. He did this to you. He'll do more - if you let him.

Sighing into the soft brush of your tongue against his, his thumb sweeping against the stiff peak. A moan that he swallows - pretty, as it slips from you.

He wants to hear more. Wants you to cry his name so loudly, you won't be able to look at Scott tomorrow.

Something shifts, when his hands dip low. Fingers tracing against skin as they slip beneath your shirt. A thumb hooking around the waistband of your leggings, gently tugging.

His nose twitches, as something about you changes. How you stiffen in his arms, the needy rock of your hips going still.

“‘s wrong, baby?” It’s slips from him, rough and low - his pupils blown wide and dark.

There's a shine to your lips, where his tongue traced them. Pressing together as your eyes drop, teeth sinking into flesh.

“I’m just-“ You start, searching for words, “Nervous. Haven’t done this before. Not that. I’ve done that."

A breath, "Just not like this-”

“I mean, you’re-”, The rest comes out breathless, with the slow sweep of your eyes, “It's just, a lot."

Your words, how sweet they are - the nervous hunger and curiosity in your expression - shoots straight through him. His jeans tight enough to ache - he has to resist the urge to rut up into you.

A sharply-inhaled breath, as he tries come back to himself.

Fuck.

Your nerves spike, as his eyes close. Worried he’ll think you’re silly - that he won't understand - but that’s only until you hear the noise it pulls from him.

Almost a growl, as his fingers pinch into your skin.

Only a heartbeat passing until he eases you off of him. The rejection stings - leaving you tripping over your words, “I-I don’t want to stop, Logan-”

But he only stretches out on your bed. The flex of muscles as he settles. A hand extended towards you, beckoning.

“I know, baby," Loga rasps, "Just gonna take it slow, alright?”

It soothes you, as you fold yourself against him. The careful mapping of fingers, as he matches each piece of clothes that are peeled from you. Letting you set the pace - biting back groans as your touch trails across his skin. Seconds bleeding into minutes, and then more.

You own sounds louder, when his mouth drags from your neck down to your sternum. Tounge tracing the tight peaks of your nipples - your shirt long peeled from you. Equal time spent learning the soft curves, until it’s your hand reaching between you - down to where he presses stiff and hard against your thigh.

Cupping him, feeling the weight against your palm. The heat that rolls of him, his breath a harsh pant against your skin as your fingers skate up his length.

A sharp inhale that hisses past your teeth, when they try to wrap around. A hesitation he can feel.

“I don’t-” You’re not sure how to touch him. Not sure if you can take him - a rough murmur in your ear as he kisses at your throat.

“Cant do it wrong,” He croons, “It was made for you, sweetheart.”

A ragged breath, as you try. His hand curving to fit yours, showing you how to stroke him. A heat flickering in your belly, when he grits out, "Fuck. Just like that, baby."

Logan's hips jerking into your touch. The sound it pulls from him, making your skin prickle with pleasure.

It feels like a triumph.

You’re soaked through, by the time he finally touches you.

The soft swirl of his fingers, so much thicker than your own. A little rougher than you are with yourself, but it feel right.

Feels good - when first one, and then another - press inside you. Teeth sinking into your your palm to muffle your whines, when he settles between your thighs.

The exchange is fluid, shifting between you. How you call every shot, his fingers and tongue working you until you cry out.

More. Harder. Faster. There, Logan. Please-

Brought back to him in the way you place your pleasure in his hands, wrapped around fingers that crook deep. Wrenching you to a peak that leaves you trembling - his voice a low croon as your cries are muffled into your pillow.

Ones that slip from you, when the ripples of pleassure ease. Smoothing across your thigh as he hovers above you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” It’s rasped out, with the soft curl of a smile.

The slight crease of a frown when you reach for him. Fingers fitting around his hard length, tilting your hips to meet his. A rough, inhaled breath as he protests, even as he leaks against your skin.

“Don’t have to, sweetheart.”

“I know,” You sigh, as the velvet length skates across your folds. An urge to feel what else he can give you.

“Want more. Want you.”

He takes it slow.

Lets you feel every inch that notches inside you. His jaw set as he works himself deep. Shallow rolls of his hips until you’re urging him for more - his teeth flashing white in the dim room as his pace picks up, giving you what you need.

You think he must like it - the way you beg, his cock slick with your need - with the way he leans down to kiss you, the age-old wood creaking beneath you with each thrust.

Praise and filth pouring from his lips - how fucking good you feel, how well you’re taking him. How you’re going to come for him again, as those fingers make practiced circles against your clit.

“One more time on my cock, baby. Come on-”

The nerves ease, until they’re no more than a memory. That tightly-wound thread burning up with the ember glow of another orgasm. Forgetting everything else, when he looks at you the way he does. The way Logan moans your name as you make him come - a rough grunt as he works himself empty inside you.

That tension sloughing off your skin in the soft afterglow - the weight of him welcome against you as your fingers card through his hair.

Because he’s right.

He was made for you.

thank you again, anon! 💖

whenever logan ate you out it was almost never for you, sure you would be the one receiving pleasure but logan always somehow enjoyed it more. he loved the way you tasted, lapping at your cunt like he hadn’t eaten for days, gripping your thighs so close to his face that your clit was smooshed onto the side of his nose as he licked stripes up into your hole. don’t even start on the growls that erupt from below, hearing faint mumbles of things like “prettiest fuckin pussy I’ve ever seen.” as you cry out beneath him. “s’enough now logan..can’t cum a-anymore..!” you whine, twisting your hips trying to free yourself from his grip. a very poor attempt seeing how no matter how much try to move he still has you locked in front of him with your legs spread out. “jus one more, alright princess..try to give me one more I know you can do it baby.” encouraging you as he pushes two thick fingers into your hole, sucking at your clit as he thrusts them in and out. the two digits pressing deep inside you only making it more unbearable, which doesn’t go unnoticed since your basically swallowing up his fingers, logan loves to see you struggle beneath him.“that’s it bub, taste so fuckin sweet for me..” squirming and shaking your legs against his head as you try to take in all the pleasure he’s making you feel, tugging at the tuffs that are on the top of his hair, holding them like handle bars. it’s as if the pulling at his hair made him want to overstimulate you more, the older man smiles into your cunt while he sucks on your sensitive bud. “hngh lo, m’cum-cumming!” you cry out, arching your back off the bed as you start bucking your hips closer to logans face trying to chase your — about to be third climax. he nods as he brings his face closer to you, enticing you to use him until you cum, moaning and groaning out in pleasure. “there we fucking go, that’s my good girl..” logan whispers under his breath, chuckling as you come undone with a last few thrusts. resting your head on the pillow catching your breath when you hear logan, “you think you can give your old man one more, hm?” he says rubbing his hand up and down your thighs, the obvious teasing making you shut your legs in front of his face as logan laughs at you.

𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞

summary: you warm Logan’s cock while he smokes.

pairing: Logan Howlett x afab!reader

warnings: 18+ mdni. smut. cock warming. grinding. Logan smoking. unbeta'd. w.c: 637

an: just a little something to clear my mind. i’m a whore for Logan and his cigars 🙃

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬 ⋅ 𝐋𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

"Give me a light, Sugar." Logan murmurs, placing the fresh, unlit cigar between his lips.

He leans against the headboard of his bed with a ragged sigh and wraps his hands around your waist, balancing you on his lap. "Careful now," he hisses as your cunt swirls around his cock. Logan always insisted on keeping you stuffed full of his cock after sex, something about making it stick, even though you both knew it was impossible to conceive. "Don' wanna spill and make a mess now, do ya?"

You roll your eyes and reach for the silver lighter he chucked on the bedside table before he took you to bed. His warm, brute hands keep you steady as you grasp the silver rectangle and right yourself on his lap. You drink down his playful gaze; his dark eyes glint with mischief as he tongues the cigar side to side.

You flick the wheel, igniting a luminous golden flame. Logan's features look sinister under the dancing tint as the earthy tobacco cracks and sizzles while you light the head. He takes a slow drag; smoke fills his lungs before spilling between his lips and swirling up toward the ceiling.

The searing red ember mocks you like your cunt isn't burning just as hot as it's stretched around Logan's girth while he enjoys a cigar after fucking you into his mattress.

He curses on the second drag when your body trembles in his lap. The tight rim of your cunt clutches the thick base of his cock; slick drooling down and coating his heavy sac.

"Y'sure like watchin' me smoke, huh, bub." he rumbles, rolling the cigar to the corner of his mouth. Wisps of smoke rise and swirl as you slowly grind your hips and demurely nod. "That'a girl."

You rest your hands on his burly shoulders, fingers digging into the dense muscle as you indulge in the scorching ache that's settled between your thighs. The dark, wiry hairs that litter the base of his cock rub roughly against your swollen clit, the extra pressure heightening your bliss as the bulbous head cruelly kisses the deepest part of you.

"Yeah, that's it. Take what you need." Logan praises, hands tightening around your waist, moving in tandem with your frantic grinds as you chase the overwhelming pleasure blossoming in your belly once again.

Logan weaves a hand around the back of your neck and presses your forehead to his. His fiery eyes, all-consuming, bore into your own. It's close, too close. So, intimate and intoxicating, but so is Logan.

The smoke from his cigar makes your eyes water and suffocates your airways, but he doesn't grant you solace. "You're stayin' right here. You ain't leavin' 'til you come."

Your pitiful sob does nothing but spur him on.

He callously digs his fingers into your curves, forcing you to keep the steady grind of back and forth, back and forth, until you gasp his name and cry out into the dimly lit room for him.

A deep growl rumbles his chest, his own pleasure racing to the forefront of his mind as your cunt quivers around his length. Your orgasm ripples through you, swirling and milking Logan's cock, as his hips rise off the bed and he spills inside you for the second time that evening.

You collapse with a tired sigh against his chest, his cock still nestled in your warmth as your heartbeat slows to its natural rhythm. He lazily drags his fingers up the column of your spine while puffing on his cigar. "Looks like I'll always have to keep a pack'a cigars on me." He teasingly chuckles.

"When don't you have a pack of cigars on you?" you quip, yanking on his chest hair.

He quirks his brow, agreeing with a sly grin. "You're right."

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

'messy' 18+

oneshot (request) - logan learns that you can squirt, he indulges in that information (1.8k words) pairing - logan howlett (xmen) x f!reader tags - established relationship, fingering, petnames: babygirl, baby, good girl, praising, kind of overstimulation, squirting, lots of squirting, a little rough, he talks reader through it, wet mentions, reader orgasm, dirty talk, fingers in mouth, logan makes reader taste themselves.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

you're splayed out on his lap on the sofa just how he likes you to be, nestled on top of his plush, firm thighs. your knees are bent with your ankles resting over either side of his legs, your back flush with his warm chest, your whole body exposed, open, for him.

logan's thick, calloused fingers lazily stroke your clit, earning soft mewls from your lips as your head tilts back over his shoulder. his other hand is ensuring his middle finger pumps in and out of you at a slow pace, your body craving those broad digits stretching your tight walls.

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

you're moaning, gripping his arm for dear life as you squirm in his lap, rolling your hips instinctively. it was beautiful, the way he could make you sing for him, the way he could make your body move for him with just a few simple strokes, almost like a puppet, pulling your strings. he would never consider himself your 'master', but god, you'd let him control you whenever he liked.

he smirks, nuzzling his fuzzy beard into the side of your cheek, his lips finding their place at your ear, "that feel good, baby girl?" logan asks, his voice a deep purr. he already knows the answer.

you gasp at his low-toned voice, gruff like gravel but sweet like honey, "yes. . ."

"mh, that's what i thought. . . think you can take a little more though." he huffs, slipping another finger inside.

your walls clench around the sudden new presence and you moan, loudly, craving the feeling of being filled by him in whatever capacity he's willing to give.

"that's it," he coos, picking up the pace, "good girl, gooood girl. . ." logan loves how easily he can slip inside of you, how he'd always find you dripping, cunt aching, core throbbing for him. his sensitive ears perk up at the sweet sounds of your wet pussy taking his fingers in, the wet schlick sounds filling the room.

your cheeks flush, looking down at the way his fingers are making light work of you, your shirt hiked up to expose your breasts. with the pace increasing, and the way he's so sweetly purring filthy words into your ear. . . you feel a sensation start to build.

it's. . . new, almost uncomfortable but not quite. not the same as an orgasm but almost. it pools low in your belly, just a little out of reach.

but his fingers pick up again, slamming deep inside of you, curling just enough. his fingers circling your clit remain slow in contrast, creating a dizzying combination of sensations that have you clenching around him and calling out his name over and over in some desperate plea. desperation for him to continue, for the building feeling, for him, full stop.

the feeling returns. fuck, it almost feels like you need to piss. your cheeks flush, eyes rolling back as you fight back the feeling, but he's rubbing you and touching you and fucking you too good for you to hold anything back.

"logan," you gasp, arching your back, "l-logan wait-"

but it's too late, before he even has the chance to slow down, you squirt. your juices coat his hands, his fingers, dripping down along his arm and onto the sofa below earning a gasp from both of you.

his eyes widen, stopping his movements immediately causing you to whine at the sudden lack of friction.

then there's silence, save for the lewd wet dripping from the sofa onto the hardwood floor.

your head is reeling, did. . . did you just squirt? fuck, you'd never done that before. heart pounding, you swallow hard, instinctively wanting to apologise for the mess, "shit, sorry i-"

"holy fuck. . ." he whispers shakily before you even have the chance to finish your sentence, "where were you hidin' that from me?" you can hear the smirk in his voice clear as day as he talks into your ear.

"what?" you whisper.

he smirks, kissing your ear, "you didn't tell me you could make cute little messes like that, baby."

"i didn't know i could. . ." you admit, biting your lip as you feel the cool air of the room brush against your dripping sensitive core.

logan's eyes widen, the implication of your words nestling deep in his brain, and groin. he was the first ever to make you squirt, the first to make you feel so good that you couldn't help but make a mess for him. pride swells in his chest, manifesting in a low rumbling smug chuckle at the back of his throat.

". . .think you could make another mess for me?" he hums, his fingers on your clit slowly resuming their movements.

you whimper, the new sensation you experienced was foreign but surprisingly welcomed. you had no idea it felt that good, that you could ever do that. but logan has a way of coaxing everything out of you, cock and fingers playing you like an instrument he's mastered.

"don't know. . ." you mumble, suddenly feeling skittish.

it's then that his fingers start fucking you again, gliding in and out easily, your fluttering hole welcoming the movement. "you can, i know you can." he encourages, nibbling at your ear, "you'll be a good girl, you'll make another mess for me, won't you?"

fuck, his words. his fucking words. every single time they had you acting crazy, letting out sounds you didn't know you could make. and he drinks them in, drinks up all those sweet little sounds from that pretty little mouth of yours that he loves so much.

you simply nod, feeling his digits pumping rougher, curling to find that sweet sweet spot once more. you're not sure if you can even do it again, but logan seems pretty fucking set on making him gush for you at least once more.

he scissors his fingers slightly, stretching you, the motion making you whine with pleasure. but when he pushes in a third finger? that's when you really start screaming for him.

"that's more like it, huh?" he grins, breathing deeply through his nose from how hard he's working you, "just needed a bit more, cus' i know you like it thick baby, don't you? like it thick like my cock?"

you want to gasp, to react to his words, but your eyes are rolling back again, mouth stuck open in an 'o' shape as you feel that sensation build once more. your body is tensing, thighs clenching, back arching, eyes squeezing shut. subconsciously you hold your breath as if that'll help. he's got you right where he wants you, right where he knows you want to be.

seconds later you're gushing, more this time - it lands on the hardwood below with a crude splash and coats his hands nicely. logan laughs, a deep dirty laugh as you writhe. he gives a gentle slap to your clit, then a firmer one, causing more to spill from you along with some squeaks.

"there we go, good girl, what a good girl. . ." you can hear the smirk in his voice, the wide grin he's wearing, the smugness lacing every word that leaves his lips, "feels good to make a mess for me, doesn't it?"

you're breathless, panting, overwhelmed in the best way. and then he speaks again.

". . . i think you can handle one more." logan purrs, movements suddenly fast and hard. his fingers fuck deep into you, curling to hit your g-spot with each calculated thrust. the fingers on your clit speed up, rubbing in practiced circles sending sparks of electricity throughout your body.

you want it too, you'd give it to him over and over again, create messes all night long if your body let you.

god you'd do anything for him, especially in that moment, and how could you not? the way his fingers play with you, toy with you, slide into you. . .

"d-don't know if i can!" you admit, huffing, trying to get more air.

but he shakes his head, "yes you can." is all he says, firmly.

and he's right. moments later you feel it pooling in your belly once more, the accompanying orgasm approaching that threatens to throw you overboard. you're lost in a sea of sensations, stars in your vision, his voice in your ear the only anchor you have to reality. you let it guide you, until you're drenching his fingers and jeans once more, voice ringing out within his bedroom as his voice coaxes and praises you softly.

his fingers on your clit come together to slap down against you, each smack against your sensitive bundle of nerves causing more to spray. you're making such a big mess, his jeans are damp. he doesn't care. this is what he wants, and fuck, if you don't feel the best you've ever felt in your entire life. . .

he keeps going, his fingers steadily pumping into you roughly, desperate to get every last drop as he feels you clamp down around his fingers. you're moaning, gasping, gripping onto his arm for dear life as you ride out your orgasm. it's too much, but it's also perfect. logan watches on in deep satisfaction as you writhe on his lap, his bulge pressing against you above him, cock twitching and rock hard just from touching you.

as your body relaxes, so do his movements, slowing down. he glides his fingers in a few times, enjoying the slick sounds they make before pulling them from your still-fluttering hole. he lazily drifts his damp digits along your tummy, leaving a trail of wetness up to your chest until it finds your mouth.

you part your lips gladly, turning your head to look up at him through hooded lids as you take his fingers in your mouth. diligently, your tongue laps at his fingers, reeling at the taste of yourself on him, dripping from him.

"good girl, you're always so fuckin' good for me. . ." he smiles, kissing your forehead as he watches you, his free hand resting on your tummy. you enjoy the feeling of his large palm against you, making you feel comforted whilst also grounding you after that whirlwind of release.

you pull his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop, instead kissing along his fingers and down across the sensitive skin of his knuckles. a silent thank you, for making you feel so good.

logan watches keenly, growling quietly at the stirring in his groin. his eyes flash with something. you'd call it mischief.

your eyes flit up to his, knowing what he's thinking before he's even said it.

"wonder what else you can do. . ." he smirks, "keeping any other secrets from me?" logan asks as he rolls his hips against you, prompting you to feel how hard he is for you and you exhale, relaxing back against him.

it was funny, how he could always push you right to the edge when you think you're spent.

and yet have you craving more. . .

you grin, biting your lip, "wanna find out?"