Logan | NSFW

Logan | NSFW

(Ask and you shall receive)

A is for Aftercare: After those intense moments together, Logan is all about making sure his partner feels safe and cared for. He'll bring water, wrap them in a warm blanket, and whisper sweet words. It's his way of showing love and ensuring they both come down from that high together.

B is for Biting: Logan has a bit of an animalistic streak, and that shows in his love for playful biting. He enjoys the intimacy of it, leaving little love bites that fade quickly but are a reminder of their passion.

C is for Control: Logan likes to take the lead in bed.He's confident and assertive, but always mindful of his partner's comfort. He finds guiding his partner through the experience incredibly fulfilling.

D is for Dirty Talk: Logan's deep, gravelly voice is perfect for whispering naughty things. His words are direct and incredibly arousing, adding a verbal thrill to their physical connection.

E is for Edging: Logan enjoys bringing his partner to the edge of pleasure and then holding back. It's a game of anticipation that makes the eventual release even more explosive.Fis for Foreplay: Logan believes in taking his time. He loves exploring every inch of his partner's body, building up the tension until they're both desperate for more.

F is for Foreplay: Logan believes in taking his time. He loves exploring every inch of his partners body building of the tension until they’re both desperate for more.

G is for Growling: There's something primal about the way Logan growls during their intimate moments. It's a sound that sends shivers down his partner's spine, adding to the intensity of their connection.

H for Hair Pulling: Logan likes a bit of roughness, and that includes gently pulling his partner's hair. It's a way to express his dominance while keeping things incredibly arousing.

l is for Intensity: Everything Logan does is filled with intensity. His passion is overwhelming, making every encounter feel electrifying and unforgettable.

J is for Jealousy: Logan's possessive side can come out, adding a fiery edge to their encounters. His jealousy isn't about control; it's about his deep desire to protect and cherish his partner.

K is for Kissing: Logan's kisses are legendary. From soft and tender to deep and consuming, he knows how to use his mouth to convey his love and desire.

L is for Lingerie: Logan has a soft spot for lingerie. Seeing his partner dressed up just for him is a major turn-on, and he takes his time appreciating every detail.

M is for Marking: Logan likes leaving marks—a love bite here, a scratch there. These little tokens are reminders of their passion and connection.

N is for Nibbling: Logan's nibbles are playful and intimate, targeting sensitive areas like the ears and neck to tease and tantalize his partner.

O is for Oral: Logan is exceptionally skilled at giving oral pleasure. He's attentive and dedicated, making sure his partner is fully satisfied every time.

P is for Passion: Logan's passion is all-consuming.Every touch, kiss, and thrust is filled with an intensity that makes their time together unforgettable.

Q is for Quickies: Logan loves the spontaneity of quickies. Whether it's in the kitchen or the shower, these impromptu moments keep their relationship, exciting.

R is for Roleplay: Logan enjoys roleplaying different scenarios to add some excitement. He's fully into it, making their fantasies come alive. R is also for Rut: When Logan's in rut, his need for his partner is intense and primal. These moments are wildly passionate and incredibly intense.

S is for Spanking: Logan has a thing for spanking. It's a playful way to add some roughness, and he knows how to balance sting with pleasure.

T is for Teasing: Logan loves to tease, building anticipation until his partner can barely stand it. His playful nature makes the eventual release even more satisfying.

U is for Uninhibited: Logan is open to trying new things and pushing boundaries, keeping their intimacy fresh and exciting.

V is for Voyeurism: Logan enjoys watching his partner, finding pleasure in their reactions and the way they move. It adds an extra layer of connection to their moments together.

W is for Wild: Logan's wild side ensures their encounters are always filled with raw energy and excitement. He lets go of his inhibitions, making every moment intense and unforgettable.

X is for X-Rated: Logan isn't shy about exploring explicit fantasies. He's open and confident, making it easy to share and fulfill even the most daring desires.

Y is for Yearning: Logan's deep yearning for his partner makes their moments together even more intense. His longing adds an emotional depth that makes their connection e v special.

Z is for Zealous: Logan's enthusiasm in bed is unmatched. He's dedicated to his partner's pleasure, ensuring every encounter is filled with.

SFW is otw

“Hearts Entwined and Torn”– Part 2

**Summary:**

After a mission goes awry, Amber faces blame from the X-Men and becomes increasingly isolated. Her emotional state deteriorates, leading to a panic attack that goes unnoticed, further deepening her sense of abandonment.

TRIGGER WARNING: Panic Attack

The weeks had turned into months, and the tension in the X-Mansion had only grown more palpable. Amber had buried herself in her duties, meticulously avoiding any personal interaction with Logan and Jean. Her interactions with them were curt and minimal, and she deliberately kept her distance. The mansion, once a sanctuary, had become a place of strained civility, where every glance and word seemed laden with unspoken resentment.

One fateful morning, the X-Men gathered for their mission briefing. The team was tasked with neutralizing a dangerous mutant causing havoc in a nearby city. The briefing was efficient and precise, but the usual camaraderie was absent. Amber and Jean were paired together for the mission due to an administrative mix-up, a situation that left Amber seething inwardly.

As the Blackbird soared through the night sky, the atmosphere in the cabin was fraught with tension. Amber sat at the far end of the cabin, her eyes fixed on the mission brief displayed on her tablet, pointedly ignoring Jean. Jean, too, avoided eye contact, her expression tense as she reviewed the mission parameters. The air was thick with unspoken animosity, and the silence was almost tangible.

The battle in the city was as brutal as it was chaotic. The mutant they faced was a formidable energy manipulator, able to project devastating blasts with precision. Despite their combined efforts, the mutant’s power was overwhelming. Amber and Jean found themselves cornered, their movements a strained dance of evasion and counterattacks.

“Watch out!” Amber shouted as the mutant launched another energy blast. She raised a protective shield just in time, but the mutant’s accuracy was deadly. Jean attempted to counter the blast with her telekinesis, but the force was too great, and her defenses buckled under the pressure.

A massive burst of energy hit Jean, sending her crashing into a nearby building. Amber’s attempt to shield her was too late; the blast had already struck its target. The shockwave threw Amber to the ground, and she scrambled to her feet, heart pounding.

The X-Men quickly subdued the mutant, but their focus soon shifted to Jean, who lay unconscious and injured amidst the rubble. The team rushed to her side, their expressions turning grim as they assessed her condition.

Storm knelt beside Jean, her voice steady but her eyes betraying her concern. “She’s hurt badly. We need to get her back to the mansion immediately.”

As the team gathered around Jean, Logan’s gaze shifted to Amber. His frustration was palpable. “Amber, why didn’t you do more to protect Jean?”

Amber’s eyes flashed with a mix of anger and disbelief. “I was doing my best, Logan. It wasn’t my fault.”

Logan’s face hardened, his lack of sympathy clear. “You were supposed to be her partner. If you had been more focused, this might not have happened.”

The rest of the X-Men murmured among themselves, the atmosphere thick with accusations. “If Amber had been more committed, this wouldn’t have happened,” said Kurt Wagner, also known as Nightcrawler. “She clearly has issues with Jean.”

Logan nodded in agreement. “It’s possible Amber’s personal feelings affected her performance,” he said, his voice lacking conviction.

Amber’s heart sank as she heard the murmurs of blame. The isolation she felt was suffocating. The mansion, once a home, now seemed like a prison. The cold stares and whispered accusations made her feel like a pariah.

In the medical bay, Hank McCoy worked tirelessly to stabilize Jean. Logan paced the room, clearly frustrated, but not showing any particular sympathy for Amber. Rogue, standing beside Hank, occasionally glanced at Amber with a mix of pity and suspicion.

Hank finally emerged from the operating room, his expression grave. “Jean’s stable for now, but her injuries are severe. She’ll need a long recovery.”

The team’s whispers grew louder, their accusatory tones more pronounced. “It’s clear Amber’s personal issues with Jean affected her performance,” Rogue said quietly. “She should have done more.”

Despite the growing chorus of blame, Amber remained isolated. The mansion’s communal areas became places she avoided, and she retreated to her room for meals and solitude. The once-familiar routines felt alien, and the growing divide between herself and the team was evident.

The isolation began to take its toll on Amber. Each day felt like a relentless wave of anxiety and despair, crashing over her and dragging her deeper into a state of emotional numbness. The whispers and accusations reverberated in her mind, fueling a growing sense of dread.

One evening, after another strained interaction with the team, Amber retreated to her room, the weight of the day pressing heavily on her shoulders. Her anxiety was a constant, gnawing presence, and it only intensified as she closed the door behind her. She sat on the edge of her bed, her hands trembling as she tried to steady her breathing.

Her thoughts spiraled uncontrollably, a chaotic mix of guilt, shame, and loneliness. She felt trapped in a nightmare where every misstep seemed magnified and every failure insurmountable. The walls of her room felt like they were closing in, and her chest tightened with the onset of an anxiety attack.

Amber’s breathing grew rapid and shallow, her vision blurring as the room seemed to spin around her. Her hands clutched her chest, trying in vain to calm the storm inside. The panic was overwhelming, and she struggled to get a grip on her racing thoughts. Tears streamed down her face as she gasped for air, her mind screaming for relief.

Her vision darkened at the edges, and she felt a dizzying sensation that only compounded her fear. Her heart raced uncontrollably, and she felt herself slipping away from consciousness. With a final, anguished cry, she collapsed onto the bed, her body limp and unresponsive.

The room was eerily silent, the only sound the faint hum of the mansion’s machinery outside her door. No one came to check on her, and the isolation was complete. The mansion, once a place of camaraderie, had become a realm of loneliness where Amber’s suffering went unnoticed.

Hours later, when she finally regained consciousness, she found herself alone. The initial shock of her panic attack had subsided, leaving her feeling exhausted and hollow. The room was dark, and the only light came from a faint glow outside the window. Amber lay still on her bed, her body aching and her mind in a fog.

In the days that followed, Amber’s presence in the mansion became increasingly ghost-like. Her attempts to engage with the team were met with stony silence or outright dismissal. When she tried to join conversations, her words seemed to vanish into the air, unnoticed and unacknowledged. The X-Men acted as though she was invisible, their conversations continuing without pause as if she were not there.

One day in the common room, Amber tried to join a discussion about an upcoming mission. She approached the group with a tentative “Hey, can I—” but was cut off by a sudden, intentional shift in the conversation. The team members, including Logan and Jean, turned their backs or began speaking over her, ignoring her presence entirely.

Amber’s attempts to interact with the team were met with a consistent pattern of cold indifference. If she tried to speak up during meetings, her comments were dismissed or overlooked. When she passed by, conversations would pause abruptly, only to resume in hushed tones once she had moved on. The isolation was not just emotional but social; Amber was increasingly relegated to the periphery of the team’s life.

The once-vibrant communal spaces became places where Amber felt like a mere observer. She sat alone in the cafeteria, her meals untouched as she watched the others interact, their laughter and camaraderie a painful reminder of what she had lost. Even in the midst of the team, she felt like a ghost, her existence ignored and her presence unacknowledged.

Despite her growing despair, Amber continued to perform her duties with the same precision she always had. Her work remained impeccable, but her interactions were now reduced to the bare minimum required. The team’s continued avoidance only deepened her sense of abandonment, and she felt increasingly trapped in a cycle of isolation and emotional numbness.

Amber’s isolation was now complete. The mansion, once a place of shared experiences and connections, had become a realm of solitude where she was left to grapple with her pain and loneliness. The team’s unintentional but deliberate exclusion was a constant reminder of the chasm that had grown between her and those she once called friends.

@fulltigertaco-blog

First Day Triumph

Summary: Logan picks Laura up from her first day of school, celebrates her good behavior with Pringles, and listens as she excitedly shares about her day and their weekend plans.

(I decided to write a story based on the picture I found on Pinterest 😃)

Logan pulled up to the school, the engine rumbling to a stop. The late afternoon sun bathed the playground in golden light, and Logan scanned the sea of children for the familiar face of his daughter. After a moment, he spotted her: Laura, standing by the gate, clutching her backpack tightly and looking a little overwhelmed.

He climbed out of the truck and made his way over, his heart swelling with pride. Laura’s eyes lit up when she saw him, and she ran toward him with an excited squeal. Logan scooped her up, holding her close as she wrapped her small arms around his neck. Her soft, relieved laughter was like music to his ears.

“How’d it go, kiddo?” Logan asked, his voice warm and affectionate as he set her on his shoulders.

Laura wiggled into a comfortable position, her tiny hands clutching his hair for balance. “It was okay,” she said, her voice a mix of excitement and exhaustion. “I made a drawing for you and I didn’t get in trouble!”

Logan’s heart melted a little more at her words. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small bag of Pringles. “I figured you might like a little reward for being so good.”

Laura’s eyes widened with delight as she took the bag from him. She eagerly opened it, popping a chip into her mouth and crunching happily. “Thank you, Daddy!” she said between bites, her voice muffled by the chip.

Logan chuckled, feeling a wave of happiness at her contentment. “So, tell me about your drawing. What’s it of?”

Laura’s face lit up as she began to describe her creation, her words tumbling out excitedly. “It’s of us at the park, with the big tree and the swings. I want to show you everything I drew!”

Logan grinned, his pride evident. “Sounds amazing. How about we head to the park this weekend, just like you said? We can have a picnic and I’ll bring the crayons so you can draw some more.”

Laura’s laughter rang out, a clear, joyous sound that filled the cab of the truck. “Yes! That sounds perfect!”

As they drove away from the school, Logan felt a deep sense of contentment. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, amber glow over the landscape. Laura’s laughter and the crunch of Pringles were the soundtrack to a perfect end of a day. He glanced up at her, her face flushed with happiness, and knew that these small moments were the ones he cherished the most.

Request are WIDE OPEN!

He can quench any thirst I have🫢

Yup

Breathless

Summary:

Logan races against time to help his girlfriend during a sudden health scare.

Logan had been out in the woods, clearing his mind after a rough mission. He wasn’t expecting to be gone long, but something had gnawed at him, a nagging worry in the back of his mind that kept him on edge. When he caught the first faint whiff of panic in the air, he froze. It was your scent — mixed with fear.

He sprinted toward the cabin, his heart pounding harder with every step. He slammed the door open, calling your name, but there was no answer. His eyes darted around the room, and that’s when he heard it: a soft, desperate wheeze coming from the hallway.

He found you on the floor, hunched over, clutching your chest, struggling for breath. Your face was flushed, your eyes wide and teary. “Inhaler,” you choked out between gasps, the word barely audible.

“Where is it?” Logan’s voice was sharp, controlled, but inside, his adrenaline was spiking. You tried to gesture towards the living room, but your hand dropped, too weak to point. He didn’t waste a second, tearing through the room, knocking over furniture, ripping open drawers. The sound of your breathing, rapid and shallow, filled his ears — a terrifying metronome counting down.

“Stay with me, darlin’,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you.

You tried to suck in air, but your throat felt like it was closing, your chest burning. The walls seemed to spin, the room growing darker at the edges of your vision. Every breath was a battle, and your head began to feel light, the air too thick, too heavy.

Logan’s hands flew over the room, searching frantically, but the inhaler was nowhere to be found. He felt a spike of frustration and fear that he hadn’t felt in years — a deep, primal fear of losing you.

“Dammit!” he cursed under his breath, his heart hammering in his chest. “Where the hell is it?”

He turned back to you, your body trembling, your breaths coming in shallow, rasping gasps. He couldn’t find the damn thing, and he was running out of time. He rushed over, kneeling beside you, taking your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears streaming down your cheeks. “Look at me,” he said, his voice rough but steady. “I need you to stay with me.”

Your eyes struggled to focus on him, your vision blurring. You could barely hear him over the roaring sound in your ears. Logan squeezed your hand tightly, trying to keep you conscious. He could feel the tremor in your fingers, the rapid flutter of your pulse against his skin.

In a flash, he remembered the bedroom. He bolted up, sprinting down the hall with inhuman speed, kicking open the door. He tore through the sheets, tossed pillows aside, until finally, he spotted it — the inhaler, half-hidden beneath the bed. He snatched it up, spinning around and racing back to you.

By the time he reached you, you were barely conscious, your body slumped against the wall, each breath a rattling, painful effort. “Come on, sweetheart, come on,” he muttered, positioning the inhaler against your lips. “Breathe, baby. Breathe.”

You tried, but it felt like inhaling through a straw. Logan’s hands were steady, though his heart was racing. He pressed the inhaler again, counting softly, forcing his own breathing to slow, to stay calm for you. He watched, waiting for any sign that the medicine was working.

For a long moment, nothing changed. Your breath was still too shallow, too quick, and panic was clawing at his chest. But then, slowly, he heard it — a slight easing, the smallest gasp of air finding its way into your lungs. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

You took another breath, deeper this time, and he could see the color starting to return to your face. He kept his hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin, his voice low and soothing. “That’s it. Nice and slow,” he whispered. “I got you.”

Finally, you managed a full, shaky breath, and then another. The tightness in your chest began to loosen. Logan held you close, his forehead pressed against yours, his own breathing heavy with relief.

“I’m here,” he whispered fiercely, almost as if saying it to convince himself. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

The Quiet Shift

Summary:Riley becomes quiet after overhearing complaints. The X-Men apologize, and she gradually opens up again.

Riley’s laughter echoed through the X-Mansion as she animatedly recounted a humorous incident from her day. Her vibrant energy was a staple of daily life, filling the mansion with a sense of joy and camaraderie. She loved being the source of light-heartedness for her teammates.

That evening, as Riley prepared a late-night snack, she overheard a conversation from the next room. Curious, she edged closer and caught snippets of the discussion.

“I just feel like she never stops talking,” Logan’s voice was laced with irritation. “It can be a lot sometimes.”

Jean added, “It’s like she’s always on, and it’s hard to get any peace and quiet.”

Storm’s calm tone held a hint of exasperation. “Her cheerfulness is great, but it can be overwhelming.”

The words hit Riley hard. She hadn’t realized her constant talking might be a burden. Feeling a sharp pang of hurt, she retreated to her room, her mind racing with the sting of their comments.

Over the next few weeks, Riley’s vibrant personality began to dim. Her conversations grew quieter and more infrequent. Instead of her usual lively anecdotes, she offered brief, unenthusiastic responses. Her friends noticed the change but attributed it to temporary stress or personal issues.

Kitty and Rogue observed the shift and mentioned it in passing. “Ri’s been a bit off lately,” Kitty remarked. “Maybe she’s just going through something.”

Rogue agreed. “Yeah, she’s been quieter. Could be nothing.”

Jean and Logan, focused on their own concerns, didn’t pay it much mind. They assumed Riley would snap back to her old self eventually.

The gradual change continued. Riley’s silence became more pronounced. She attended meals and group activities but remained distant. Her lack of engagement was subtle but noticeable, and while the team saw it, they didn’t immediately connect it to anything deeper.

One evening, during a team discussion, Logan attempted to draw Riley out. “Hey, Ri, any new stories or jokes tonight?”

Riley offered a small, distant smile. “Not tonight, Logan. Maybe another time.”

Logan and the others exchanged glances, unsure of what to make of her response. The shift was palpable but didn’t immediately raise alarms. They assumed it was just a phase.

The situation came to a head during a particularly challenging mission. Riley’s performance was subdued, and her usual energy was missing. The team’s concern grew as they noticed her struggle, both in her contributions and her overall demeanor.

Kitty and Rogue decided it was time to address the issue directly. “Something’s definitely wrong,” Kitty said. “We need to talk to Ri and find out what’s going on.”

Rogue nodded. “Yeah, let’s see if we can get her to open up.”

Jean and Logan took their cue and approached Riley. “Ri, we’ve noticed you’ve been really quiet lately,” Logan said, his voice gentle but concerned. “Is everything okay?”

Riley looked up, her eyes betraying the hurt she had been trying to hide. “I overheard you talking about me. About how I talk too much and how it’s overwhelming.”

The X-Men were struck by the realization. They hadn’t intended to hurt her, but the impact of their words was clear. Jean reached out, her voice soft. “We didn’t mean to make you feel this way. We’re really sorry.”

Riley nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “I just needed some time to process it.”

The team, now understanding the root of Riley’s change, worked to support her and reconnect with her. Over time, Riley’s laughter and energy began to return, and the team’s efforts helped to bridge the gap that had formed.