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#fanfiction 2017
mistyorchid · 19 days
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Meet-Cute
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Old Man Logan x fem! reader
Summary: Failed talking stages inspire you to meet someone irl. Riding an older man in the backseat of his limo makes you forget about the immature boys who ghosted you on Hinge. Meet-Cute Ch. 2 Warnings: MDNI, 99.9% porn, no use of y/n, age gap, reader is 21+, fingering, riding, size difference, praise kink, pet names (doll, baby, sweet/good girl, sweetheart), unprotected p in v, light slapping, oral (male! receiving), creampie, car sex (nobody's around tho), logan's slutty glasses. wc: 3k
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Hinge. The app designed to be deleted. You smiled as you pushed the cart, daydreaming about chucking your phone into the nearest lake. The few matches that you received often ghosted you after a week, afraid of committing to a real date.
So here you were, aimlessly strolling through a grocery store. Desperately begging the universe for a real man.
You spent an embarrassingly long time curating the perfect outfit to attract a guy worth your time. Casual enough for a quick errand, but still chic. I want to be with someone who admires my confidence. They shouldn't reprimand me for expressing myself.
That's how the feminist part of your brain explained your attire. The other touch-starved half, however, wanted to wear the shortest skirt you owned just to feel men stare holes through it.
You turned into the bakery aisle and pretended to evaluate the nutritional contents of a massive chocolate cake. Maybe this could be plan B, if tonight's endeavor was hopeless.
The comforting hum of fluorescent lights softened the sterile environment around you. Memories of simpler times floated in your mind. Handmade school lunches. Gentle kisses placed on your knee after a bad fall. You closed your eyes, lulled by the promises of love you were granted as a child. Now an adult, you yearned for a partner that could nurture you in a romantic way.
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Logan overheard a bag of produce spill onto the floor as he picked up a shopping basket. The cashier dropped it when he saw Logan's blood-stained dress shirt.
Mumbling a string of profanity, he decided to release some steam. "Show's over!" he snapped, flippantly tossing his right arm behind him.
Ignoring the shocked gasps of the other shoppers, Logan sulked further into the store in search of something to soothe his palate.
His doctor tentatively ordered him to "lay off the booze," a suggestion that left three deep puncture wounds in the drywall of his office. Alcohol numbed the emotional and physical pain that plagued him, but it also further delayed his healing powers.
Logan's skeleton was withering away, and all he wanted was a fucking sweet treat.
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Your body braced for impact as your chest made contact with a shopper haphazardly turning into the aisle. After dropping the cake onto the pristine white tile, you closed your eyes again, salvaging the moment of peace that was stolen from you.
"Hey, watch where you're going, asshole." You reluctantly opened your eyes and were met with the solid torso of a man.
Slowly raking your gaze up his body, you raised your eyebrows at the sight of his bloody shirt before meeting his narrowed eyes.
Crows feet radiating from the corners. Prescription glasses. He appeared much older than you expected from your brief contact with his chest.
You silently cursed your luck. This meet-cute plan was steadily evolving into a meet-angry situation.
"Not smart to close your eyes in public," he huffed, staring pointedly at the fallen cake. It was hard not to notice your mini skirt. He hasn't seen a skirt that short since the 60s.
Although you had pulled away from him, the man's eyes lingered on your chest. The playful baby-doll top hugged your cleavage in all the right places. Your glossy lips donned a similar shade of pink. He quickly resumed eye contact, feeling like a dirty old man for imagining them wrapped around his cock.
She's too young, you sick fuck. Logan's internal monologue worked overtime to maintain a shred of decency.
Your face turned away from him at the impending embarrassment you were about to put yourself through. Smirking, you shyly retorted, "Not smart to stare at a girl's tits in public." You gently pushed up his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose.
Closing the gap between your chests, you tip-toed to reach his ear before whispering, "It's okay . . . I want you to."
The answer to Logan's suffering was sweeter than any slice of cake he could have indulged in. A pretty little thing was actually flirting with him, a cynical ex-soldier worn by the unforgiving rings of time.
Logan's hands found the back of your elbows and slowly pulled you closer to him. You gasped as you felt his belt buckle catch on the flimsy fabric of your top.
"Careful, doll," he grunted, leaning down to meet the side of your face. "I'm old enough to be your father."
You defiantly peered up at him through your lashes. "Yeah, and . . .?"
The man slowly distanced himself from you, gently tugging the hem of your top down to its original state.
Okay, definitely not the best response to seduce an older man. You chewed the inside of your cheek, stunned by your juvenile comeback.
"I'm sorry, kid. Forget I said anything," he muttered before turning into another aisle. He mentally kicked himself for letting the interaction go that far. Although his aching body and mind yearned for some relief, he wouldn't take advantage of some young girl.
He hurriedly stomped past the cashiers, swiping a few cigars from a distracted employee's station.
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After the initial shock wore off, you quickly followed the older man to the parking lot. Totally not stalker-ish at all, right?
You wanted to take care of him. His reluctance to return your lust-sick gaze should have deterred you, but it only made you more desperate.
You watched as his hands dug into his pocket, pulling out a set of keys. The chipper click of the limo doors unlocking motivated you to get his attention.
"Hey! Can we talk?" You yelled, raising an outstretched palm to stop him from getting inside the car.
Logan froze at the sound of your voice. He contemplated being responsible, slamming his door and driving off without a second glance.
The gentle pressure of your hand wrapping around his wrist made him think extremely irresponsible thoughts.
Turning around to meet your gaze, the older man swiftly opened the passenger door. "Get in. Now," he growled.
Words betrayed you. All you responded with was a surprised squeak as he used your grip on his wrist to push you further into the vehicle.
His eyes widened as you briefly parted your thighs to get settled in the lush leather seat. The sinfully short hem of your skirt bunched up, revealing your underwear.
Logan whipped his head to the front of the limo, avoiding the sight of your body. Unfortunately, he couldn't avoid how you felt against his. You sat at an angle towards him, knees pressing against his thigh. His body tensed as you placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Why were you following me, huh?" he asked, finally meeting your eyes. "I've had a long fuckin' day and I need answers." He couldn't believe that a young woman like you would be interested in him.
"Yeah, you're old enough to be my father, maybe older-" you paused to move your left hand onto his thigh. "-but I'm done playing with boys." You shyly turned your head before continuing, "Need a real man."
Logan was done holding back. Now, it all made sense. Your lack of direction in the store, the low cut of your outfit that was way too sexy for a late night grocery run. We're both adults, he reasoned. She wants this.
He gingerly cradled your jaw with his large hand, turning your head towards his. "You sure about this, sweetheart?
You covered his hand with your own, bringing your lips to his in a spontaneous kiss. "I-I need to hear you," he stuttered.
"Shut up and fuck me, . . . " you sighed, pausing to ask for his name.
"Logan . . . call me Logan, doll." His left hand snaked around your waist, bunching the delicate material and exposing your breasts.
As you leaned into his palm, he fished the limo keys out of his pocket and clicked twice, locking the doors. He fondled the underside of your tits before rolling the sensitive nipples between his thumb and forefinger.
You were grateful for the tinted windows that shielded your embarrassing moans from the public.
"Already whining for me, hm? So fuckin' needy," he hummed, pushing up your top even further. You crossed your arms to undress, but Logan swatted them away, explaining, "It's cute. Wanna see your tits bounce for me, baby."
He gripped your ass with both hands and effortlessly swung you onto the broad expanse of his lap.
Your back arched as his rough palm cupped your pussy, thumb languidly tracing your sensitive bud through the cotton.
"But this . . . has to go," he drawled, tugging the elastic of your panties before letting it go with a faint snap.
It was too much. You were splayed over the lap of a stranger, hips wantonly rocking yourself over his prominent bulge and mewling as your sensitive clit caught on the rough fabric of his slacks.
He stilled your movements with his hands, lovingly kneading the flesh of your hips. "You okay with this?" he asked, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt. "Yeah, Logan . . . more than okay. Need you."
You loved that he was confident enough to take what he wanted but also gracious enough to check in, unlike the boys you were used to fucking around with.
His fingers hooked around the waistband of your skirt and panties, skillfully pushing your legs against your chest as he pulled them off. He decided against slicing them off with his claws, not wanting to hurt you. "Fuck. You're so pretty. My sweet, sweet girl . . ." he cooed. You whined as your aching cunt was finally exposed to Logan's hungry gaze and the chill night air. He groaned as you resumed desecrating his lap with your juices.
Your breath hitched as Logan traced two fingers along your bottom lip. You granted him access, playfully darting your tongue around his digits.
After his fingers were thoroughly soaked, he used your saliva to gently trace your hole, noticing the faint flutter of your walls.
"Need me to fill you up, hm? Poor baby's clenching around nothing. Let me fix that . . ." Logan's palm brushed against your clit as his fingers plunged into you, setting a steady pace.
You were incredibly wet, but he needed to prep you for his thick cock. He drooled, collecting a heavy wad of spit onto his tongue before letting it fall onto your pussy.
"Ah-ah!" You exclaimed, surprised by the contact. You bit your lip, cheeks flushing at the lewd feeling of his spit mixing with your wetness.
He used his other hand to slap repeatedly against your puffy folds, mesmerized by how vulnerable you were being for him.
"Yeah, you like that?" He whispered, curling his fingers as they met your cervix. You covered your mouth, desperately trying to maintain some modesty. Logan withdrew his left hand to pry away your arm and swallow your moans, sloppily slotting his lips into yours.
You gasped into his mouth as you felt your cunt spasm around his fingers, gushing all over his tight slacks.
"Oh, fuck! Logan . . . " you mewled, biting his lower lip while he continued to finger you through your orgasm.
Your head fell into the inviting crook of his neck, nuzzling his graying beard. "Atta girl, come for me," he cooed.
Logan peered down at you, noticing wet droplets dampening his beard. You were silently crying, tears cascading down your puffy cheeks before landing on his face.
At first, he was alarmed. "Hey, hey, shhhh," he purred. "What's the matter, doll?"
His cock twitched when he realized you were smiling against his neck.
"Nothing's wrong, Logan . . . you make me feel so good, that's all."
He planted a sweet kiss on your forehead. "Yeah? Want me to make you feel even better? Fill you up for real this time?"
You nodded dumbly, still basking in the haze of your release.
"Nuh-uh. Words." The simple command made you rut into his lap.
You shuddered while responding. "Wanna feel you inside me. Need your-" Logan bucked up into you. "-cock."
He slid his hands under your thighs, briefly pushing you forward so he could unbuckle his belt. Your small hands slinked toward his waist. "Let me do it," you pleaded, hastily sliding his belt through its loops and tossing it to the floor.
You pulled his cock out of his slacks, leaning down to press sweet little kisses to the head. Your thighs burned with the effort, but it was worth it to feel him momentarily lose control. Logan hissed sharply, "Good girl, fuck-" before guiding his thick cock into your heavenly mouth.
You licked a prominent vein that teased its way above his waistband. The taste of him was utterly intoxicating. You moaned onto his length, choking back tears as he suddenly thrust up into your eager throat.
The delicious weight of his cock on your tongue was short-lived. He cupped your face, forcing your mouth to slide past the tip with an obscene pop.
"Won't last long if you keep doing that, doll. Takes a lot less to get me riled up these days," he explained.
You nodded as you straightened yourself, using your knees to hover above his lap. He teasingly ran the flushed tip of his cock through your folds before sinking into your weeping pussy.
"Oh my god! fuck-" you cried, lowering your hips to embrace his full length. Your hands found stability on Logan's shoulders as you bounced on his cock.
Logan stared in awe at your tits. They were practically spilling out the sides of your cute top, jiggling with each movement of your hips.
As he admired your form, you drunk in the sight of his coarse salt and pepper beard. His wiry glasses barely held onto the slope of his strong nose due to your eager movements. You paid special attention to his crimson-stained shirt, wondering how he was enduring the wounds.
"You're hurt." You stated, pausing to slowly unbutton his dress shirt.
Logan's hands grabbed a handful of your ass and slammed you down onto his lap, forcing you to continue taking his cock.
"Never said you could stop," he huffed. "It'll take time, but I'm healing."
You gasped as your clit hitched on the bunched fabric of his slacks, frantically shrugging off his shirt in the process. A devastating moan ripped from Logan's throat as you peppered kisses on his wounds. The coppery taste of his blood was oddly soothing, reminding you that the man buried in your cunt was real and not just a figment of your lust-fueled imagination.
Logan loved how dazed you looked, your chest rising and falling with each shaky breath, your pupils dilated and glossy. His cock twitched every time your soft tits brushed against his face. You whined as the steady rhythm of your hips faltered, hinting at your imminent release.
"Lean forward, baby. Let your old man take care of you," he sighed, wrapping his broad arms around your waist. You allowed yourself to slump forward, arching your back and playfully wiggling your ass in the air.
You yelped as he slapped your ass with enough force to feel the sting radiate from his outstretched palm. "Such a fuckin' tease," he growled, filling you up in one thrust. He set a punishing pace that made you sob into his chest. The loud squelches of your release echoed throughout the limo, mirroring your high-pitched wines.
"Oh, my god! . . ." you mewled, savoring the feeling of his cock stretching your walls. Your breath hitched every time his hips met yours, balls slapping against the sensitive skin of your ass.
He fucked up into your cunt, relishing the fact that you'd probably never had a cock as big as his. Logan stared at where you were connected, hypnotized by the subtle drag of your folds along his rugged length.
"Don't know what I did to deserve a pretty girl like you." His teeth tugged on the delicate strap of your top, exposing your breasts. His mouth enveloped the bud, gently sucking and pulling as they hardened.
"Logan . . . can't take it anymore. I'm close." You clenched around him, earning another hard slap on your ass.
"You gonna come for me sweetheart, hm?" He somehow increased his pace, hips drilling into your sensitive cunt. "C'mon, come all over my cock. Such a sweet young thing, so eager to please . . . " he hummed into your ear.
"And just so we're clear, I am definitely older than your father." His filthy words made you arch even higher, stilling your hips mid-air and allowing Logan to fuck you through your release.
The sound of you faintly chanting his name as you came sent him over the edge. "You can take it," he encouraged as your pathetic whines intermingled with his unabashed groans. His hips drove home, bouncing you harshly against his tense thighs and spilling into you with a low growl.
You almost blacked out at the feeling of his cum spurting into your walls, reaching even further when Logan buried his cock to the hilt. You clenched around him, overstimulated and thoroughly fucked.
"That's it, just relax . . . You look so pretty milking my cock," he praised, brushing stray hair away from your face.
You managed to sit upright and shakily moved to lift yourself off his cock, but Logan quickly steadied your hips. He's still hard, you realized, fascinated by his renewed vigor.
He panted, obviously just as spent as you were.
"So, uh, tomorrow, the Italian place on fifth street, 8 PM?"
You narrowed your eyes, incredibly confused at his choice of words after experiencing the best sex you've ever had.
"Our first date," he clarified. He kissed your cheek and you blushed at the contrast between the innocent action and the fact that his hard cock was still buried in your cunt. "After all, I'm a real man, right? And real men plan dates." He plastered on a cocky grin, repeating your earlier statements.
"Okay, old man. It's a date." You smiled, kissing his mouth with passion.
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Ah!!! I had so much fun writing this. Old Man Logan, when will it be my turn >:[
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rqnarok · 6 days
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GLORY BOX | old man!logan x fem!reader
summary: calling old man!logan daddy for the first time ever…
content warnings/tags: smut! mdni. literally porn with no plot or whatsoever. old man!logan. unspecified age gap. stressed reader. established relationship (surprising). soft daddy dom!logan. sub!reader. daddy kink. dd/lg undertones. subspaces. pet names (princess, little girl, etc). unprotected p in v. slight breeding kink. barely proofread. wc: 1,3k 
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All the work you’ve been having these past weeks is knocking you out, mentally and physically. The sight of never-ending paperwork before you makes you want to throw your dinner up to the desk. Although you know it’s not healthy to push yourself like this—you just couldn’t help it. Your anxieties are always eating you and forcing you to do this and that subconsciously. 
Luckily, Logan always notices when you’re tiring yourself to death. His love comes in many forms, one being taking care of you. He always takes care of you at the price of nothing. 
Well, maybe one or two things. 
Your obedience, is in fact, required. Your loyalty to him and only him is expected. Your submission is essential. 
Both of you find a simple way of living by holding onto those systems. You love to be taken care of and Logan loves to take care of you. It is the foundation of your and Logan’s relationship. It is enough. 
His presence is greatly felt as he watches you overworking yourself to a dreadful agitation, “Come on, sweets. Rest up for a bit.” 
“Can’t, Lo. ‘M still doing this.” Your head lulls lazily as the burden on your shoulders becomes overwhelming. Deadlines loom all over your mind, all over your brain like grey clouds before a storm. 
He just can’t take it anymore. The sight of his pretty baby all slouched down and defeated in the dim living room. “I’ll do all the work for ya’. C’mere, princess.”
And before you know it, or even before you register it—your head goes radio silent for a minute. All because of Logan.
“Little one.” Your paperworks on the desk are long abandoned as Logan tenderly whispers to your neck, to the skin he had plastered with many love bites and little hickeys. 
“Mhm—”
His cock is stuffed deep inside of your soaking pussy, stretching you up with his thick girth, and locking your figure to his with his strong biceps like glue.
This position, you on top of him, usually makes you tired and your thighs sore—but it’s different now because he’d taken a willingness to do all the work. I’ll do all the work for ya’. The sight of his girl—his gorgeous girl opening herself to him; letting yourself rest up a bit after all the sobs you had swallowed this entire week—electrify something inside him.
You love to be taken care of by Logan. 
“My pretty pillow princess, hm?” He mutters sweetly to your right ear, gently brushing your hair along the way. Your figure slumped into him, leaning your entire body weight onto him. You managed to nod lightly, lazily, and slowly, but still with desperation. 
“Yeah. My little girl. All mine.” His fingers reach your chin and nod your head with him. Slowly lifting his hips up and down, he makes his cock hits that spot deep inside you. When he talks to you like this—you just can’t help it. The more he babies you, the more you fall into subspace. 
Before you can’t stop yourself, you croak out a small breathy voice, “Daddy.” You sounded so feeble - you barely even recognized your own voice. 
Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. 
All this time, you call him lots of names, alright. Jokingly or in a serious manner: Grandpa, Lo, Logan, Old Man, Old Guy—but never that.
You feel Logan tense and how his cock twitches inside your walls. Then he slightly pulls you up and down on him, way deeper this time.
His rugged palms dug into your hips, rubbing circles there, “What was that, sweetheart?” The older man’s voice tremble slightly because fuck he didn’t think he could get harder. He knows he’s a bad bad bad man for enjoying shit like this. Young, delicate thing like you drooling over his cock.
You whimper into his shoulders and shy yourself away from his intense gaze—the one that made you clench your pussy around his girth. “What’d ya’ just call me, princess?” He repeats as his fingers squish your cheeks to look at him in the eyes. Bullseye.
There he went again. Making you fall deeper into your subspace you can’t even think. “Repeat whatcha’ say to your old man, baby.” Pushing just the right buttons. 
“Daddy…” you managed to get away from his gripping fingers and nuzzle your face deeper into his neck—your voice comes out needier than you expected.
Logan groans and you could feel his cock twitches again, “You wan’ more of Daddy’s cock? Hm?”
He managed to slip his thumb into your spit-slicked mouth and make you suck at the tip. “Mmhm. Please, Daddy—”
“Wan’ Daddy t’a stuff you up, little one?” He grunts, loving all this, you could tell. His thumb slips out of your lips and makes its way down down down and then his hand drifts to play with your breasts, squeezing and pinching your peaking nipples.
“Ah! Y-yes, Daddy.” You’re full-on sobbing now. You’d do anything. Only one word repeats in your dumbfounded mind now.
Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. 
“‘Aight. Hold on t’me.” Logan lets out a dry chuckle and trails his hands from your breasts to the plush of your ass. “Daddy’ll fill you up.” He lifts you up and lets the tip of his cock slip from your clenching wet hole, barely even the tip. He scolds you softly when you start moving around in desperation, “Stay still for Daddy. Lemme’ do my job.” 
You cry out loudly when he thrusts himself back in, deep and hard. “Daddy!” Your nails dig into his shoulders and he sets a rapid pace. 
The sound of slapping flesh against flesh obscenely roams around the room as Logan pistons his hips up off the cushion, eagerly meeting your bouncing body above him. “T-there ya’ go, kiddo. Always grippin’ Daddy so fuckin’ tight.”  
Logan takes his right hand and press it down on your tummy, feeling his cock bulging through, "Ya' feel me here, kiddo?" And God, how could you not melt at that?
He pounds his large cock into your slicked pussy, chasing his high and yours. “Go ‘head play with your pouty clit.” Says Logan as he keeps bullying his way inside your heat. But your hands stay locked around his shoulders. You’re just too tired and he said he’d do all the work, right? 
Logan knows you’re close when he feels your toes curl on his thigh and your arms tightening around his neck—suffocating him with your presence and your cunt.
“Daddy,” you call out to him again, making grabby hands on his salt-and-pepper beard. A continuous line of DaddyDaddyDaddyDaddys in a loop and you’re so full of him, you feel him everywhere.
“Cream my fat cock, baby. Daddy’ll fill you up real nice.”  You try to tell him yes but it comes out of you broken and high-pitched.
“Daddy-” you can feel his big fingers circling your swollen button—doing all the work for you. It’s not even a second later until you babble that you’re coming, repeating it over and over in his ear. “‘M coming, Daddy—‘M-” 
Logan mutters a curse word as he feels your velvet walls squeezing his cock so tight and milking him dry. “Shit. Such a good little girl.” He coos at the sight before him, your shaking figure, coming down from your high, and rolling your eyes to the back of your head in pleasure. 
He can’t help himself anymore—his pace becomes relentless, and he indulges his body forward closer to you, burying his face on your neck. “Fuck, princess.” You whimper at the burning feel of his untrimmed scruffy beard.
“Come.” 
Oh, you want to order him around now?
“Come, Daddy. Need your cum so bad, pleasepleasepleas—” 
Nevermind.
In your neck, he lets a roaring grunt as his cock twitches and swells inside of your dripping pussy. “Jesus Christ.” He huffs every time he spurts his release, his thrust going weaker and slower. Yet the pleasure that you deride him for is inescapable. No amount of power could take him away from you. He makes sure of that.
His breath finally comes back to him, and so does your senses, little by little. You whimper as you feel his cum gushing out of your hole, “Daddy-”. 
But he keeps his position still, his legs grounded to the floor—he just kisses your temple, then your cheeks, then your lips. “Shh. Daddy’s here. Daddy’ll take care of you.” He coos at your hair, kissing the crown of your head. 
He decided that he’d have you like this for the night. Seated atop of his muscular thighs—full of his seed and spent. 
Daddy always takes care of you.
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𝑴𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈
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𝒐𝒍𝒅!𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕!𝒇𝒆𝒎 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
• +18 minors do not interact. unprotected sex, cream pie, rough sex, innocence kink, large unspecified age gap, daddy kink, smoking, alcohol consumption etc. beware—
𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕
dividers by @anitalenia 💓
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The thick smoke clouds could be cut with a knife the moment you entered his house the doors were left partly open so no harm right? You searched for him in the kitchen but you found him sitting by the fireplace in the living area. Manspread..Book in hand adjusting his reading glasses, cigar lazily resting between his lips. There he was.. the man who made your core pulse. That was a secret though.. nobody could ever know that you’ve been crushing on him ever since you moved next door to his house. He was not married, and he knew that for sure because every woman who ever ended up going home with him? Left the next day— you didn’t judge that of course. Maybe he didn’t want anything serious. Most men… are like that. No?
“Erhm.. Mr Howlett? My father asked me if you could come over today afternoon. The material arrived for the renovations..” you stuttered softly. He looked up from his book giving you a soft nod. “Of course kid, tell your father I’ll be there later” you nodded and hurried out of his house touching your chest as you ran over to your house walking in through the backyard. Your cheeks flushed softly red– the images reappeared in your mind, the way he smokes his cigars.
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“C’on” you heard a frustrated groan from the kitchen. You peeked your head inside only to see Mr Howlett in a white vest, biceps glistening with sweat taking measurements of the kitchen cabinets. “Come here kid” he rumbles softly. You nearly tripped approaching him “how can I help?” You whispered looking at the tools “specs, on the table please” he motioned with his large hand. You nodded taking his reading glasses from the table passing them over “thanks sweetheart. Whatcha doing here? Heard your mother left to do shopping” you sighed leaning against the kitchen counter “I know I was just busy with housework” Your eyes were on his flexed muscles. You swallowed when he stepped right in front of you to take measurements again your face practically meeting with his large chest. “Sorry..” you breathed closing your eyes. “S’alright” he smiled small. Hand on the cabinet above your head the older man met your gaze. There was something in them… darkness.. perhaps something very forbidden.. you cleared your throat the moment you heard your father on the phone outside in the garden slipping past Logan scrambling quickly upstairs to your room. It was a shame.. you know nothing about men. He made you so curious, that your thoughts made you open your laptop and search pictures. First you typed ‘kissing’ the images came up blurred so you switched off the adult content button and returned back on the pictures your eyes widened in curiosity. So many moving pictures which were called ‘gifs’ the way some of the men kissed the women. You moistened your lips by licking them feeling familiar heat in your belly and butterflies. You never watched porn or anything like that but you saved some of those ‘gifs’ of couples kissing and moved onto the search bar to type ‘sex’ images came up some of the black and white and you gasped looking at the various positions women were put. The way the men’s hips clashed against the woman’s butt and the moaning expressions on their faces– you shamelessly bit your lower lip and closed your laptop. You imagined kissing Mr Howlett so many times. Maybe you could ask him to kiss you and do things to you.. to teach you how things like that feel. You thought of so many ways… but you also didn’t want to come out as a desperate girl forcing herself on an older man. How could you only do this?
Mr Howlett stayed for dinner. You didn’t expect him to but your mother and father insisted so you were seated next to him. You were heaving some veggies and steak.. it was one of your favourites but you didn’t think of anything else but the ‘gifs’ you saved. The kissing ones. You watched Mr Howletts forearms as he cut into his steak before your mother interrupted you “y/n it’s rude to stare.” You looked down at your plate face covering your hair so Logan couldn’t see your face. Your cheeks heated momentarily— stuffing your face with veggies you then excused yourself needing a breather outside on the front porch. Stealing one of your father’s cigarettes you lit sitting on the steps. Hearing the door open you sighed “Mom I’ll be in soon” apologising you heard footsteps approaching you so you hid the cigarette. “You should go inside it’s not safe here bub” Logan slipped on his jacket walking down the steps turning to you. “I’m not a little girl Mr Howlett.. thank you for your concern” his expression turned into a scowling one the moment he saw the cigarette. “Give it to me” he put his hand out. “No.” You muttered softly. “Y/N..” he grumbled approaching you “Smoking is fucking bad for you.” He continued. “Don’t care” you took a hit in front of him that made him scowl even more. “Stop being a fucking brat and give it to me” he let out a sigh and you narrowed your eyes. “Why do you even fucking care?!” Logan shook his head a disappointed expression spread over his face. Rubbing his bearded cheek he shrugged it off. “I don’t fucking care I don’t need this.” With that he walked away. He didn’t care.. that hit your heart. Why would an older man like him care? Tears welled in your eyes, you stomped on the cigarette and walked back inside the house.
You didn’t know Logan’s urges.
You didn’t know the things you make him feel when you look at him and the times you wear skimpy little skirts riding a bike around the neighbourhood with your girlfriends. Summer holidays were his favourite because he got to see you more, you were not attending university. That’s what you told him– he loves the way you throw your head back laughing with your friends. He loves the way you walk, he even loves the way you leave your curtains open in your room so he can look at your young body when you apply lotion to your legs after shower. He knows your breath hitches when you two are close and he enjoys every moment of your tiny sufferings. He doesn’t want to be the man of your dreams. He doesn’t want to make you cry and suffer because he cannot be yours. He doesn’t want to ruin you but that tiny innocence in your eyes makes him want to do things to you. How could you know all these feelings when he’s nothing but stern with you. Drinking away his thoughts he poured himself a glass of whiskey sitting by his fireplace thinking he was harsh with you. Weren’t you just a fragile soul? He was afraid to hurt you.. his calloused touch could mark your skin.
A knock on his door disturbed his thinking, so he looked out the window only to see you standing in front of his door practically shivering in your pyjama shorts and an oversized sweatshirt he swore he loved on you. It made you look tiny.
“What are you doing here kid?” He sighed opening the door for you. “I wanted to apologise..” you whispered. “The way I acted towards you.. I just-” you stepped inside his much warmer home looking around to find a cigar burning in the ashtray a bottle of half empty whiskey and a glass right next to it. “I don’t need your apology” he cut you off walking back to his armchair sitting back down taking his cigar to smoke it. His eyes taking in your naked legs making you shiver. “I just.. I wanted to ask you something” you mumble on making him raise a brow. “It’s pretty late, you should go home” he answers you wanting nothing but you to stay but he knew he had to make you leave. He held back so much..trying to control himself around you. “Mr Howlett you’re a good man my family says.. I was just wondering if you could help me with something” you asked him scratching your arm nervously. Pressing your thighs together “I get lots of butterflies when I’m around you.. and and.. I was wondering how does kissing feel like?” The older man nearly asked you to repeat yourself. “I am not a man for you kid..” he warned you resting his cigar between his lips. “I know.. I just.. you’re older and experienced and I don’t get butterflies with anyone else” you confessed. His rugged expression turned softer. “Come here bub.. let me tell you all about it.” He patted his knee and you approached him sitting on his knee. His big hand rested on your lower back and the other put his cigar out letting it rest in the ashtray. “I don’t know much about the female body.. but I’m sure when you have butterflies in your belly your tiny girl part gets wet” you nod quickly. “Yes.. yes Mr Howlett it gets very wet.” Your response made his cock heavy. It twitched with want– “where does it get wet sweetheart?” He whispered and you slowly spread your thighs. “Down here..” you show him. His big hand slowly itches closer to your pulsing mound and you look at him wantonly.
“Don’t look at me like that..” he breathed face leaning closer to yours and you closed your eyes ready for his lips on yours only to feel him kissing your cheek his beard prickling your tender skin. His fingers tracing your warm centre between your legs and you bucked your hips towards his hand “eager little thing..” he whispered you could hear the drunk in his voice but your hand softly caressed his veiny forearm. “Mr Howlett please..” you begged. “I won’t tell.. please destroy me” when he heard those words coming out of your lips he kissed the side of your neck sliding his big hand inside your sweatshirt to fondle your breast. You moaned, it felt differently when a man was touching you. “Just gettin’ started honey..” he licked his way into your mouth kissing you pouring out his needs before pulling away to touch your face in his one hand gently squeezing your cheeks “pretty little mouth.. do you think I could fit my cock in there nice and snug sweetie?” you nodded needing nothing but him and it didn’t matter how. Cock straining against his pants he grunted grabbing a hold of your shorts and panties pulling them down your legs dropping them on the floor. His fingers locating your sensitive bud circling it. You moaned against his neck as you clung to his shoulders. “There we go honey..feeling you tense already” he smiled, prepping you. “Open..” he groaned forcing your lips open by his fingers sliding them in your mouth to moisten them. You sucked on his fingers meeting his eyes feeling hot all over. Your juices drooling out of your hole. He tsked “So wet already?” You looked at your pussy the way he caressed your folds with his fingers slowly rubbing them in circles before stuffing them in your mound. You cried out at the feeling something so large like his fingers entering you. When he curled his digits and did a pulling motion your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head the wet sounds of your core only caused his fingers to move in and out of you faster the heat in your belly rising and rising until you cried out against his chest cumming undone on his fingers. His thumb expertly rubbing your clit, the older man smiled at you. The first you saw him smile so softly. “There we go..” you choked his fingers in you even though they weren’t as deep as you wanted him to go in order to do that he’d have to take your virginity. “I never.. I never..” you babbled lost in post orgasm as you looked at him cheeks reddening with arousal. “You’ve never..what?” Very slowly pulling his fingers out of your heat he sniffed them before slowly tasting them. You blushed deeper at his doings. “Never had sex..” you whispered shyly. “Never?” Logan asks again caressing your plaint thighs. You shook your head “never.. mr howlett can you show me it feels?” He hummed in response looking at your lips before leaning down to attack your mouth in soft kisses until you parted your mouth for his tongue. You whispered to the butterflies returning and he gracefully carried you bridal style to his bedroom.
Putting you down on your feet he helped you remove your sweatshirt leaving you naked. “I will teach you all about it sweetheart..lay down” the older man said softly and you climbed on his bed resting on your back spreading your legs for him. The sight of your glistening pussy had him growling. “Little girl hungry for old man’s cock.. that’s twisted..” he smirked teasing you watching your nipples go hard. You watched him remove his top, then undo his belt and jeans before taking them off along with his boxers. Cock bobbing, hard as a rock. The swollen tip drooling tears of pre cum. The colour of his cock made you tilt your head curiosity.. it was pink, looked swollen and hard. Just like on those pictures, your breath hitched in your chest “That’s going inside of you, bub..” he climbed on the bed nestling between your legs. You stared between your bodies as his warm swollen cock rested on your pussy. It was so big, thick.. veiny. “How.. how will it fit..?” You asked curiously hips bucking up to feel his cock even more. “Greedy little thing not know anything about cocks.. but is hungry for one..” he tsked lowering himself on top of you. You moaned at the feel of his chest, touching it with your hands. Logan groaned rubbing the tip of his cock between your folds “take a deep breath..” you did as you were told taking a deep breath before he sheated himself inside of you in one single push. “Shit..!” You cursed gasping and moaning the both of you at your unison. Your gasps were painful with discomfort because of your virginity but it faded away the moment he kissed you wrapping his arms around you. You felt so safe in his arms that you cuddled up to him pressing your lips to his shoulder arms curling around him keeping your legs open for him. You felt so full, so wet.. you felt your wetness drip forming a ring on the base of his cock. “Fuck.. ugh..” he buried his face against your neck pulling out of you leaving the tip inside before thrusting back in. Slow pace, but slowly increasing it leaving you whimpering and gasping for air “mr howlett.. it tingles, the butterflies.. Ughh ohhhh.. feels so good” you cried as he responded only in hungry growls grabbing your waist in his hands he snapped his hips into you fucking you. “Can’t hold back anymore..” he slurs peeking between your bodies watching his cock slide in and out of your ruined pussy and you cry out nodding “it’s okay daddy.. take what you need!!” logan moans under his breath eyes darkening something snapping in him hoisting your legs around his waist he grabs the pillows under your head pounding into you harder than before, more than before making your toes curl watching your pussy take all of his pounding before you claw his back “daddy.. it.. hurts.. but in a good way!! Need to cum” you breathe heavily your tits bouncing to his rapid trusts as he hovers above you breathing harshly too cock throbbing as he circles your clit “you gonna cum on my cock like a good fuckin’ girl” and you did, you screamed against his neck clinging to him nearly passing out as you did. Logan nestles your face against his neck as he snaps his hips into you growing into the pillow as his claws push out piercing the bed under you. “Fuck.. fuck.. fuck….!” He curses loudly shoving his cock deeply in you before cumming undone. The tip spurting hot streams of white in your womb breeding it full. You moan uncontrollably as you feel the warmness being released inside of you. His claws retreat moments later— using his hand to cradle your head finding your lips in a kiss. You both sweat so much feeling unbelievably tired. Logan pulls out of you, watching his cream pool out of you onto the sheets. “Let’s get you showered bub..” he whispers and you nod. He promised to take care of you. The way you called him daddy.. it repeated in his mind more than few nights..
-
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liking, commenting, and reblogging means the world. please don’t hesitate to do so if you liked my fic.
(Apologies for any grammatical mistakes)
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reidsworld · 17 days
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giving old man!logan head in the limo has me feral. i just know theres a dirty mouth on that man
Warnings… fem!reader, smuttt, praise/degradation, oral sex (m receiving), no use of y/n, pet names (baby, slut), this is VILEE (rlly channeled my inner freak), not proofread lol (icl i wrote this on my phone). — you are responsible for the content you consume, if you are not comfortable with any of these warnings or are a minor, DNI!!!
Mars speaks… old man logan has me in a CHOKEHOLDD
Masterlist | Divider from @/saradika-graphics
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You had been teasing Logan all night, testing the limits of his patience with every sly smile, every light touch, every whispered innuendo in his ear. The tension had built between you like a fire ready to ignite, and you knew exactly what you were doing.
Logan’s gaze was dark, his jaw clenched as he shifted in his seat beside you. Finally, with a low, frustrated growl, he turned to you, his eyes blazing. “Fine,” he muttered, voice rough, low, “you wanna act like a little slut, I’ll treat you like one.”
That was how you ended up in the back of his limo, sliding down between his legs, your mouth leaving a trail of kisses along his chest, moving lower…
His voice was a rasp, barely more than a breath as he whispered, “Don’t stop.”
Your trailed your hands over the bulge in his pants, making swift work of pulling them down with his boxers, freeing his achingly hard cock.
While it wasn’t overly long— certainly not a length to be ashamed about— it was thick. His cock had a long vein running down the underside with many smaller veins scattered across it. It twitched desperately in his lap, the sensitive red tip oozing pre-cum.
“Holy shit…”
He let out a low chuckle at your words, clicking his tongue at you, “come on, get to work baby.”
You grinned up at him as you leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on the tip, making him nearly growl.
“Don’t be a fuckin’ tease.”
Giggling at his words you smile innocently as run your tongue along the slit of his cock. He threw his head back, groaning, his fingers threading themselves through your hair with a tight but gentle grip.
You sunk your head lower, the head disappearing between your lips. He gazed down at you, “look so good with your lips wrapped around my cock like that.”
Your tongue swirled around his cock, cheeks hollowing, and his grip on your hair tightened, “don’t be shy, I know you can handle more.”
He used the grip in your hair to push you down lower. Saliva began to drip down his cock as he filled your mouth. You used it as lube for your hands which found their way to his shaft, slowly stroking and twisting what was not in your mouth.
“Yeah that’s more like it, knew you could do it.”
You moaned around him in response, the vibrations shooting right through his cock, causing his hips to buck. The tip hit the back of your throat making you gag and slightly choke at the protrusion. But this didn’t make him pull back, he was too desperate he couldn’t stop.
“Y’okay, baby?” he asked, slowing the rate his hand was moving your head but not stopping. You tried your best to give a nod. Once he got your confirmation, he stopped his hand movement, gently thrusting his hips upwards into your throat.
He had let you have control for long enough and now he was getting desperate, he couldn’t wait. He gently tapped on the top of your head causing you to look up at him.
“M’gonna fuck your throat now, baby,” he told you and you nodded, your hands moving to grip his thighs. He used his hand to push your head lower before thrusting up into your mouth. He began to build a steady rhythm, his cock going deeper into your throat with each movement.
“So good, haven’t gotten somethin’ this good in a long time ‘nd definitely not from someone as pretty as you,” he praised, his Canadian accent thickening as his pace increased. You moaned at the praise, breathing through your nose as he pushed in further.
Your knees began to ache from being on the limo floor. As he set a brutal pace, it became messier and messier. His cock was now covered in saliva, you makeup was a mess from the small tears that fell each time he hit the back of your throat.
“Y’look so pretty like this, my little slut,” he grunted out as his thumb moved to wipe one of the tears that fell. You smiled around him and looked him in the eyes. His head fell back at the sight around him.
After a few minutes, you could tell by his demeanour and ever-so-slightly slowing pace that he was getting tired. you moved your hands up to his while looking at him in the eyes. You gave him a gentle nod. His grip loosened from your head before he laid further back against the seat, long arms stretching out.
“Just need a little break, you keep going,” he chuckled, muttering something about being old.
You held onto the sides of his thighs as you quickly bobbed your head up and down his cock. You looked up at him, moaning at the sight. He looked so good— head fallen back, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, letting out little breaths.
This only spurred you on, taking him as deep as possible over and over again. His cock twitched at the back of your throat, a sure sign that he was getting close. You moved one hand to fondle his balls. You gently massaged them, scratching at his scrotum.
“Fuck, m’gonna cum,” he breathed out.
You picked up your pace as you felt his balls tighten in your hand. His thighs flexed and his hips bucked as he let out a lewd groan— almost growl of your name. Feeling his hot cum fill your throat, you pressed your head down, nose touching the hair at the base of his cock.
As he came down from his high, you pulled off him and looked up. He looked down at you with a lazy smirk on his face. He reached out his hand, helping you up from the floor before pulling you onto his lap.
His thumb wiped the half-dried tears from your face, his other hand snaking behind your neck and threading into your hair to pull you into a passionate kiss, his beard scratching at your chin.
As the two of you pulled apart, you grinned at him, “think you still have it in you to fuck me, old man?”
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Mars speaks… (again) sorry if this is a bit of a mess, it’s like 1:30 in the morning rn and i wrote this instead of sleeping. any and all feedback is always appreciated🫶
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paradiseprincesss · 1 month
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˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Guess | Tom (The Party)
summary — you suspect that your dad's best friend is stealing your panties…and you can’t help but play into it.
warnings — panty stealing fetish/kink, smut, p in v, oral (m!receiving) unspecified age gap, pervert!tom sort of but like not entirely
word count — 2.2k
masterlist
MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY.
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ੈ✩‧₊˚
You watched your dad as he talked to his lifelong best friend, Tom, about the game that was on TV earlier. Your dad had known him for since he was in college himself, so he was a true friend to your family through and through.
As you reached into the fridge to grab a bottle of water in your favourite pink pyjama set, your dad excused himself from the kitchen, leaving you and Tom alone.
It was never awkward with him, though, having known him for so long. In fact, as of recently, you almost felt this sort of…tension between the two of you whenever he came over. You tried to reason with yourself about it — he was your dad's best friend and he was significantly older than you, so there should be no reason for you to feel this way towards him. There should be no “tension” at all.
But ever since your panties started to go missing each time he came over, you had a feeling all that palpable tension wasn’t there for no reason. 
Ever since you were younger, you'd always found Tom to be “good looking,” per se, but ever since his divorce and since you started college, you started to find him really attractive.
Every single time he’d come over, you’d get irrevocably turned on. You even started to have vivid fantasies about him, especially at night, and you found yourself wishing his fingers were touching your aching cunt instead of your own.
So, consequently, each time you saw him, your underwear always had a little damp patch on them from how wet he made you, meaning you had to constantly go excuse yourself to change into a different pair. You couldn’t help it — it’s not your fault that he was so god damn attractive without even trying. 
But then things...changed. You started to notice that every time you went upstairs to go change your panties, it seemed you could never find the pair you had been wearing prior, even after looking for them for like twenty minutes. You swore you threw them into your hamper, but then when you checked, they weren’t there. 
About two months ago, you threw your favourite lacy black pair with the little bows into your laundry hamper which you kept in your room. After reapplying your lip gloss in the bathroom, you saw Tom come out of your bedroom. As he was about to go back downstairs, you saw him casually stuffing something into his pocket — black and lacy — before sneaking off downstairs, unaware that you’d just seen him do something so filthy. 
But if it was so filthy, then why did it turn you on so badly? 
You’d suspected that he may have been stealing your panties, but to actually see him doing it had butterflies erupting in your chest.
Naturally, after you found out — you started to play into it. You’d leave a pair of lacy, baby pink underwear hanging from your hamper then asking him to get something upstairs in your bedroom for you, or you’d “accidentally” drop something on the floor, only to bend over and give him a little glimpse of what was underneath your shorts.
You wanted him to see how wet he’d gotten you.
Hell, you even got so ballsy with it that one time, you actually stuffed a pair of your panties into his coat pocket before he went back home — but neither of you ever happened to bring it up afterwards.
As you stood in the kitchen wearing your pink pyjamas, throwing him an innocent smile as you sipped on your water, his eyes immediately went to your lips, then to your very short pyjama shorts, and then finally back up to your face. 
“You’re up late,” he mused, “I thought you had classes in the morning?”
“I’m surprised you remember,” you said, biting your lip as you found it rather endearing that he even remembered your class schedule from when you told him ages ago. “I have a reading break, so I have the rest of the week off."
He hummed in acknowledgement, peering over his shoulder, presumably seeing where your dad had gone. “Your father had to take an important call, I reckon,” Tom said softly with a shrug. “Somethin’ about work…”
You nodded, not sure what else to say after finding out that Tom had quite literally been stealing and stuffing your underwear into his pockets...and that he knew that you knew.
But to you, it just made it all the more thrilling. 
The thought alone was enough to make you wet again — then suddenly, an idea struck you.
“I’ll be right back, just gonna go change into something warmer. I’m kinda cold,” you said innocently, and you noticed the way his blue eyes almost lit up when you mentioned you were going to get changed. 
“Alright,” he responded casually.
As you got upstairs, you quickly took off your underwear — a pretty, pink, lacy pair — before putting your pink pyjamas back on. No, you weren’t actually cold, you just wanted to see if you could catch him stuffing his pockets again…
So you tossed your damp panties (all thanks to Tom) into your hamper before making your way back downstairs. Tom was stood in the kitchen like he was five minutes ago, and you could hear your dad talking to someone on the phone in his office. Clearly he’d be wrapped up with that for the next little while. 
“Thought you were cold?” Tom gestured to your pyjamas which you hadn’t changed out of.
“Actually, once I got upstairs I realized I was actually a little hot,” you said before “accidentally” knocking an apple out of the fruit bowl on the kitchen island. “Oops.” 
You bent down to grab the apple off of the kitchen floor, causing your shorts to ride up and show the outline of your soaking cunt, which by the way, left a small little wet patch on your pyjamas. The way he had you dripping like a leaking faucet should've been criminal.
“Christ,” you heard Tom breathe out from behind you, “erm…I’m just going to go use the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” 
You looked over your shoulder at him as he excused himself and hurried upstairs, causing you to smirk as you placed the apple back into the fruit bowl. You followed him upstairs after a few minutes, noticing how your bedroom door was cracked open slightly. 
You made your way to the door, pushing it open quietly as your eyes widened at what you were met with.
In your bedroom, Tom was on your bed, his thick cock being fisted by his right hand with your lacy pink panties in the other. You knew he had a thing for your underwear, but you didn’t realize he was actually hanging onto them while he jerked off. 
“Tom?” You asked softly, causing him to startle and immediately turn red as you closed the door behind you.
“Fuck— shit, I’m sorry—“ he tried to cover himself with a frilly pillow from your bed, but you weren’t having it. You went over to him, yanking the pillow from his hands, making him let out a choked sound. “What are you doing?!“
“Keep going,” you encouraged softly, your bottom lip between your teeth as you crawled onto your bed. “I wanna watch.” 
He looked like he’d seen a ghost as he froze for a few moments, before slowly starting to stroke his length again, blue eyes locked on yours as his brows were furrowed. “You’re so dirty,” you teased, getting between his legs, “dirty old man.” 
He let out a breathy groan under his breath — but it was true. You were so much younger than him, and yet here he was, stealing your panties and then coming to them. Coming to the thought of you.
He pictured you so many times while fisting his cock, the way you’d look in your underwear, posing for him, especially in those skimpy little lace ones. The way your pretty lips would look wrapped around his cock; how you’d lick it, spit on it, choke on it…
“Why don’t you – fuck — have a taste, sweetheart?” he suggested, making your cheeks heat up. You crawled between his legs, resting on your stomach as you reached over to replace his hand with yours. 
Gently, you wrapped your hand around this thick, veiny cock before popping him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip. He let out a moan, overwhelmed by the feeling of your warm, wet mouth. His hips bucked up, causing you to choke on his cock, making him curse under his breath as his tip hit the back of your throat repeatedly.
“Fuck, you’re so good at this — it’s like you were made to suck cock, baby,” he praised you while breaching your throat barrier, making tears well up in your eyes. You continued to use your hand, moving it up and down his cock while you took him in your mouth. 
After you deepthroated him a few more times, you took his cock out of your mouth, letting out a big gasp for air as you did so. Tom looked at you with glossy eyes like he was drunk off of the feeling of you. 
“You’re disgusting,” you found yourself saying, but you were undressing as the words left your lips. “Like, you’re actually fucking gross — stealing my panties and jerking off to them? Are you kidding me?”
“What’s disgusting is that you actually like it,” he smirked, eying you carefully as you stripped down into nothing. The second you were naked, he pressed you down on the bed, stomach pressed up against the mattress with a pillow underneath to prop your ass up. “How wet am I making you if you're having to change your panties every time I come over?"
He stroked his cock a few times, tossing his blazer off into the corner of the room carelessly, before lining his fat cock head up with your soaked entrance. He teased your dripping folds with his cock, “I’d always try and guess what colour panties you were wearing. Then you'd bend over and I would get to see if my guess was accurate."
Before you could respond, he suddenly pushed into your cunt with little resistance, splitting you in two with just how thick he was alone. His length stretched you out, causing you to let out a choked mewl as he let out a low groan, fucking you relentlessly into the mattress as he pulled your hair back. “You’re such a dirty little girl,” he growled, “you wanted me so badly — mm, fuck. That’s a tight pussy.” 
“Uh-huh,” you said, your mind going numb, “y-yeah, fuck— Tom! Fuck, Tom!”
“Feels good, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” he cooed mockingly. “I bet you love getting fucked stupid, don’t you? Is this what you wanted? Say it, baby.” 
“Yes!” you wailed. “Yes, ugh, fuck! I wanted you to see how w-wet – mmph!” 
“Come on,” he encouraged, fucking you deeper as he held you up by your hair almost painfully. “Spit it out.”
“I wanted you to see how wet – my god – you made me!” you screamed, feeling his cock spear you so deeply, you thought your insides were being rearranged. “I’m gonna cum, oh my god—”
“Already?” he teased, ramming your tight little cunt with as much strength as he could. “You’re so cute.” 
“Tom, I—“ 
You barely got the words out as you came all over his cock, coating him with your juices as you whined and moaned his name over and over again. “Good girl, fuck—“ he choked out, feeling your cunt clench down on him as your release washed over you. 
“I’m not gonna last either, your pussy’s so tight. Jesus, baby,” he said lowly, fucking you harder, plowing your abused little hole faster. “Gonna fuckin’ fill this cunt, s'all mine.”
He continued to thrust into you from behind, hands still gripping your hair so that he could get a look at your pretty face while he did so. You were a shaking mess at this point, but he continued to ram his thick cock deeper, causing you to let out hoarse screams and inaudible sounds. 
“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, hips stuttering as he slammed himself into you over and over again. “Yeah, that’s it — fuck.”
You moaned as you felt the heat pool in your stomach, his warm seed filling you raw as he let go of your hair finally. Your head hit the pillows softly and you propped yourself up onto your elbows gently as he stilled in your abused hole, now stuffed with his cum. 
“So good for me, baby,” he said, pulling out of you as he watched his cum drip out of your cunt, smearing onto your inner thighs.
You let out a soft sigh before your dad started to call out your name from downstairs — you only prayed that by the grace of god, he was too wrapped up in his call to notice that his best friend had his daughter pressed up against a mattress upstairs while ruining her. 
“One second!” You shouted, scrambling to get up as Tom got dressed with you. Rummaging around your dresser drawers, you tried to find your favourite skimpy, red underwear but Tom called your name out softly, causing you to look over your shoulder at him. 
He held up the red lace panties you were looking for, but then he shoved them into his pocket, smirking at you before reaching for the doorknob, his face slightly flushed and his hair tousled.
“If you want these back, then you're gonna have to come over to my place tonight and come get them from me, baby."
ੈ✩‧₊˚
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girlystories · 11 months
Text
Being the Bowers gang girl
*ೃ::Both platonic & romantic headcanon
– pairings: various x reader
addition warnings: swearing, bullying, very few depictions of sexism, few derogatory names, toxicity, abusive parenting.
words: 2.6k
this was entirely inspired by z0mbiekittyy, so please check them out!
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Meeting/joining the gang
you were at first the quiet, loner girl who kept to herself, only having a few acquaintances, with very few friends.
it wasn't because you were a loser. only the opposite. everyone wanted to become friends with you or get to know you in some way but you never let anyone get close.
everyone had heard of you of course. when they realized you were different they stopped trying to read you or make their mind about you.
that was until greta keene couldn't get enough. she hated the attention you got. so one day she started spreading rumors about you.
it was relatively easy, since no one knew you enough to disprove them in any way. one word went to another and everyone in town now started talking shit about you.
despite that, you didn't care. you had your mind somewhere else. popularity and school drama weren't your thing.
you didn't mind hearing the remarks spat at you when you wandered the halls or when you were in class. you were completely and utterly unbothered.
word got fast that it even reached the all too feared bowers gang.
you were making your way to biology class when you were shoved against a locker, all your books falling one by one on the floor.
"well well well, if it isn't derry's most favored whore", henry was the first to indulge in the act.
he was followed by vic, or – as he liked to refer to him as his 'right-man', "hey, hank. why haven't we ever tried to mess with her before?"
you tried to back up slowly, but your back hit against another frame. when you looked up your eyes met with a pair of green ones, followed by an unsettling smile.
it seemed like no one noticed what was happening – or in better words, no one gave a shit about what was happening.
"dont worry, [name], we're not gonna kill you, jeez," belch revealed.
that made henry groan and turn his head towards his friend. "shut up."
patrick, still behind you, held onto your shoulders, which was very easy due to his height. "or we will, you will find out soon."
"both of you shut up," henry silenced them before it could escalate to something else. "so, how about you come with us for a ride? ya'know, get some air n' stuff."
"you mean like skipping school?", you asked.
"why? are you scared? I'm sure your reputation is as shitty as it can get. can't get any worse than that. even ours is better."
you shrugged, and just decided to follow them. just as you sat at your seat – between vic and patrick, you couldn't make out the read ahead of you, as they were driving recklessly. where you were, you hadn't the slightest clue.
they were laughing and howling, sometimes shouting at the drives passing by.
you? well, you were scared shitless. you clung onto your seat belt, and holding back the urge to start shrieking.
after a while you got used to it and had to admit deep down it was kinda fun.
when you stopped, you realized you were at a junkyard. they prepared a fire when the sun began to set down and opened some bottles of beer.
as you all circled around the fire you began to talk about whatever. you also found yourself to... tolerate them. or, better yet, even enjoy their company.
before you knew it, little by little you hang more and more with them, slowly becoming one of them. it was the first time you were a part of something. they felt like home and you could trust them, despite the hardships and more extreme emotional outbursts.
your reputation got even worse but you didn't care. you had found your people.
Activities
other than hanging out in the junkyard, you guys do other stuff (of course).
it's like you all live together, while you also don't. frequent sleepovers, meet-ups on each other houses take place, ect.
vic once convinced you all to go camping a few towns away. despite being the one who recommended the idea, he ended up despicing it. on the other hand, patrick who hated the idea ended up having the most fun. scaring vic by hiding bugs in his tent and pretending he was hearing bears or wolves. belch had enough and kept demanding they'd stop fighting, while you kept laughing at vic's reactions everytime. you never went camping again.
every morning belch picks everyone in order, first henry, then patrick, then you, and lastly – the sleeping queen himself: vic.
then, you make a stop at the local diner, everyone choosing their own specific order that the waitress had already memorized.
unless vic had a hangover from the party the day before, he wouldn't stop complaining about who-knows-what.
sometimes, when you were really bored, you'd go out of town in search of abandoned places, owning them for a while until someone else found them and ruined them almost immediately.
it was expected and common sense you'd show up at ever party. then you all would split for a while but meet up in order to leave. belch was in priority not to drink or get high until anyone else got a license. that's what you all agreed on but that possiblility seemed unlikely.
at school you avoided bullying anyone, but giving up on trying to stop them from terrosizing another kid since it was the only thing they ignored you on. the only time you fought back was to defend yourself. not that you needed to, but because you wanted them to know that you weren't as incompetent as you seemed.
when you had the change you'd shoot empty beer bottles with henry's dad's gun.
Henry Bowers
you and henry would share your deep wounds together. him about his alcoholic and insane old man, and you about your hard time fitting in, both in family and friends.
you would joke around, but to an extent. if you said the wrong thing he'd refuse to speak to you for days, weeks or maybe even months – depending how much it affected him. if he was too stubborn, vic would have to somehow find a way to talk him out of his bitchy attitude.
despite him trying to seem hard-shelled, deep down he was very sensitive. he knew you knew that, and he hated it. it was the only thing he hated about you except the fact that tend to be pushy sometimes.
he had never cried in front the guys, but one day he couldn't hold back when he was only with you. it happened only once, but he still feels humiliated about it and hopes you'd never bring it up. he made you swore to never tell anyone.
butch seemed to like you for a reason, only approving of you from the gang. he hated the rest. when you find yourself at their house, he'd warmly greet you.
at first he and patrick made a lot of sexist joke about you. later when he noticed you went silent you, he started using them less, only saying them once or twice.
always offers you cigarettes, and makes sure to buy your favorites.
sometimes (when he's not in a shitty mood) he pays for your food when you go at the diner without saying a word or giving you the chance to convince him otherwise.
all good things considered, let's be honest here cuz we all know he has more negative that good qualities.
for example; gets jealous super easily and gets mad at you for it, making you apologize for something that isn't your fault.
NEVER admits he's wrong. ever.
when you have a different opinion he tells you to shut up or straight up threatens you.
needs a lot of attention, while also can't have on his tail all the time, making him indecisive and confusing.
sometimes doesn't realize you need help and leaves you deal with your problems alone while you clearly do need some sort of hand.
still, you always have a way to be together again, unable to keep any distance between you both. on weekends you usually take the bus to his house, helping him with the choses around the farm.
Vic Criss
you and vic already knew each other from middle school. you were in the same class and he used to help you with homework.
then, when kids started growing up through that phase everybody did about that sort of rivalry against girls and boys. because of that, your 'friendship' fell apart.
you weren't really friends back then but you could've been.
he never admitted it but he always stared at you from away, wishing you would somehow start talking to each other again.
he was the one who convinced henry to approach you that day. the idea popped into his mind just as those rumors started going around.
he was glad henry agreed. even though he always did, he was anxious of saying no. later, he lied to you, saying it was henry's idea instead and that first interaction you had with him was henry's way of being kind (despite calling you a 'whore').
you and vic were close, in a different way you were with the others. he understood you better and he was very good at telling advice. he was also fun gossiping with. definitely the best when having a sleepover. the others found him annoying or bitchy about it, but with you he was himself.
he also was kinda subtle about his true personality, not showing his true small but intresting quirks only you knew.
speaking of gossiping, almost every weekend he crashed at your place, the excuse being his siblings giving him a headache, while his mom being 'a pain in the ass'.
everytime he had a problem with the others you would be the first to know. he was still henry's 'right-man', but sometimes henry was, well... henry.
at parties he'd get wasted and you'd be 100% sure he'd be found in the bathroom pucking his guts out.
you guys are so close he would be showering while you were doing your business at the toilet, gossiping about everything single detail.
still sometimes helps you with school after some persuation, but keeps reminding you that 'he is not your tutor'.
loves braiding your hair when you're hanging out, especially during class when it's something super boring (even for him).
Patrick Hockstetter
you were honestly pretty scared of patrick at first, and most definitely the only one from the gang who gave you the creepes.
the alligations weren't few, to say the least, and at first you kept your distance from him.
he also didn't try to make a move on you, which you found stange, yet grateful. maybe henry threatened him or something. either way you were considerably on good terms with patrick.
one day at school, while you were waiting for the other three to come at your usual spot during break, he offered you a cigarette. you received it with gratitude, since it was rare for an offer coming from patrick. he even stricked up a conversation, which was... maybe a bit thought provoking.
then he smirked – that one charismatic he wore when you would stop being able to read his mind. he was like a puzzle, but most pieces were missing or switched with incorrect ones. "are the rumors true?", he asked, closing his zippo with a 'click' after he light your cigarette.
"i dont think that you care if they're true or not," you answered back, the tobacco filling your lungs with nicotine.
clouds of smoke escaped his nostrils with each chuckle. "maybe."
on your ride home Black Sun Morning by Screaming Trees was playing from the radio and you found yourself singing alongside patrick. he rose his brows, "you know 'em?"
"duh, of course."
the next day on the ride to school, instead of gossiping with vic you ended up having a deep conversation with patrick about music. you never imagined that you'd be having a conversation about art with him of all people.
since then, you hit it off well. he stopped using sexist comments as well, and even attempted physical contact at the diner, brushing his fingers against your hair. when he realized you let him or try to stop him, he smiled to himself.
in the end you were usually seen together, you sitting on his lap during breaks or at the gym stands, in the car or diner. he would wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your shoulder. it was making the others sick.
sometimes you attempted to help him with homework, but he only agreed so you could just hangout. he wasn't really interested in attending college. the thing he was good at was certainly playing the guitar. both bass and lead guitar. vic jokes about him making a band but it something told you he didn't view it as a light joke.
one day he invited you to his house to show you his vinyls and discs. that's when you met his mother and was pretty surprised to find out she was vietnamese. he made sure to never speak vietnamese around you or the others.
when meeting you he became less... interested at the fridge at the junkyard, viewing it less and less. maybe therapy was starting to work out? even for a tiny bit.
extremely protective of you, especially at parties. makes sure to keep an eye out even though you wouldn't know it.
Belch Huggins
belch was the most chill and the most independent one of the gang. aways making sure everything was in check and going smoothly. it was no surprise he was super welcome to you and tried to make you at ease the first few weeks, asking you if you were okay or needed a ride home.
is a gentleman, of course. doesn't tolerance any disrespect towards you, no matter how small it may seem to you.
offeres to pay for you when going out, no matter how many times you don't let him.
one time you both got so drunk you couldn't stop laughing; your bellys hurting and your eyes filled with tears while your faces were bright red. it made henry mad (as usual) but it's a memory you'd never forget. you had no way to get back home, though.
on fridays you watch him play basketball, sitting at the stands, and smoking and encouraging him. sometimes vic or patrick came too, but it was very rarely.
he offers you the ball but you immediately decline, being reminded of the day the ball hit you in the face after you missed your shot.
you requested him to teach you how to drive, which was a bad idea honestly. at first you didn't understand his instructions at all, but when he asked you if you had any questions you lied saying 'no'. after that instead of stepping on going forward you accidentally went backwards, almost crashing his beloved trams-am that he named 'daisy'. then you turned the wheel too far, almost falling at a ditch before he saved you two.
swore that you'd never get a license in your life and forbid you anywhere near the wheel, not even the passengers seat.
his dad owes a workshop, fixing cars. he helped too, supporting him in any way he could. you also helped him here and there while he taught you the basics and answered any questions you had.
he promised that he'd let you fix a car entirely on your own without his help. he said he'd also let you keep it for free.
you have a drawer contained only of belch's clothes. at first you'd ask him to try his sweatshirts on. then you'd complain you were cold and he'd sigh, saying you could give it back another day. but you never did.
you loved it when he gave you biggyback rides. his, especially. he could never refuse, despise how tired he was.
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shybluebirdninja · 18 days
Text
Claws of the Heart
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Summary: In a world where mutants are nearly extinct, James Logan Howlett, better known as Wolverine, has lived a long and tortured life. Now in his 200s, with the weight of the world on his shoulders, he unexpectedly finds a glimmer of light in the form of a young woman in her 30s who lives next door. Their connection is undeniable, but when a man her age starts vying for her attention, Logan's primal instincts kick in. Fueled by jealousy, he does everything he can to win her heart, even if it means battling the demons of his past.
Pairing: Oldman!James Logan Howlett x Neighbor!Fem-human reader Genre: Fluff, Angst
Logan’s boots scuffed against the gravel as he walked down the dusty road toward the small, secluded town he’d been hiding out in for the last few months. His joints ached more than usual—just another reminder that he was no longer the young, invincible Wolverine. Time had done a number on him, but he wasn’t dead yet.
He glanced up at the sound of laughter drifting from the open window of the house next door. He knew that laugh—soft, light, and it stirred something in him he hadn’t felt in years. A pang of something unfamiliar—hope, maybe? But he’d learned long ago that hope was a dangerous thing.
His gaze landed on you, the woman who’d moved in next door about six months back. You were in your early thirties, full of life, and every time you smiled at him, it knocked him off balance. Not that he’d let you know it.
He grunted to himself as he watched you chat with the guy from two houses down—Tom, or Tim, something like that. It didn’t matter. What mattered was the way he leaned in too close, how you laughed at whatever lame joke he was telling. Logan’s grip tightened on the grocery bag he was carrying. His claws itched to come out, but he pushed down the urge.
Instead, he turned and walked back to his cabin. He wasn’t going to be some lovesick puppy pining over a woman. But damn, it was hard to ignore the jealousy that flared in his chest every time he saw you with that guy.
He tossed the groceries on the counter and opened a beer, taking a long swig as he leaned against the counter, trying to calm the storm brewing inside him. You were just a woman, just a neighbor—no reason to get worked up. He tried to convince himself of that, but deep down, he knew it was a lie.
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Later that evening, Logan found himself sitting on his porch, the sunset casting long shadows across the yard. He heard your door creak open, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw you step outside, your gaze landing on him.
“Hey, Logan,” you called out, that sweet smile on your lips as you walked over.
“Evenin’,” Logan replied, trying to sound casual, but his heart was thudding in his chest like he’d just been in a fight.
“Whatcha doin’ out here all alone?” you asked, leaning against the porch railing, too close and not close enough at the same time.
Logan shrugged. “Just enjoyin’ the quiet.”
You smiled and sat down next to him, your leg brushing against his. He stiffened slightly but didn’t pull away. Instead, he took another swig of his beer, trying to focus on anything other than how close you were.
“So, you never really talk about yourself, Logan. What’s your story?” you asked, turning to face him.
Logan glanced at you, those big, curious eyes of yours looking right through him. He grunted, not sure how to respond. “Ain’t much to tell,” he muttered.
You chuckled, shaking your head. “I don’t believe that for a second. Everyone’s got a story.”
“Not mine,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. But you didn’t flinch, just kept looking at him with that soft, patient expression that made him feel like he could actually tell you—if he wasn’t so damn scared of what you’d think.
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The next few weeks were torture for Logan. Every time he saw you with that guy, the jealousy gnawed at him like a dog with a bone. He started finding excuses to be outside more often, hoping to catch you alone, to steal just a few moments where it was just the two of you. But it seemed like every time he was about to make his move, there was that damn neighbor again, laughing with you, making you smile.
Logan’s patience snapped one afternoon when he saw you sitting on your porch, and that guy—Ted or whatever—leaned in to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. Logan was across the yard before he realized what he was doing.
“Hey,” he barked, his voice rougher than usual.
You and the guy looked up, surprised. Logan felt a grim satisfaction when he saw a flash of discomfort in the guy’s eyes.
“Logan, what’s up?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, that concerned expression making his heart squeeze.
“Just thought you might wanna come check out somethin’ I’m workin’ on,” Logan said, forcing his voice to sound casual, though the tension in his muscles betrayed him.
You glanced between the two men, then smiled. “Sure, Logan. I’ll be right there.”
The guy opened his mouth to protest, but Logan shot him a look that could’ve cut steel. Without another word, the guy mumbled something about needing to go and quickly made his exit.
Logan turned back to you, his heart still pounding, but he played it cool. “Sorry ’bout that. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
You chuckled. “It’s fine, Logan. Ted was just leaving anyway.”
“Yeah, Ted. Good riddance,” Logan muttered under his breath, feeling a surge of triumph that he’d gotten rid of the guy, at least for now.
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As the days went by, Logan found himself spending more and more time with you. He showed you how to fix things around the house, taught you how to defend yourself—just in case, he said, though he’d be damned if he ever let anything happen to you. And slowly, bit by bit, he started opening up, sharing bits of his past, letting you see the man behind the claws.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you were sitting on the porch steps, Logan beside you. You had just finished telling him about your day, and there was a comfortable silence between you two.
“You know,” you began, glancing over at him, “I’ve never met anyone like you, Logan.”
He grunted in response, not sure what to say. Compliments weren’t something he was used to.
“I mean it,” you continued, turning to face him fully. “You’re… different. In a good way.”
Logan felt his chest tighten, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he could trust his voice. “You ain’t so bad yourself, kid,” he finally said, the words coming out softer than he intended.
You laughed, the sound sending warmth through him. “I’m not a kid, you know. I’m thirty-four.”
“Still a kid to me,” Logan said with a smirk, but there was no bite to his words.
You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t fade. “And here I was thinking you might actually ask me out sometime.”
Logan blinked, caught off guard. “You want that?”
“Maybe I do,” you said, leaning in closer, your face inches from his.
Logan’s breath caught in his throat. He’d faced down some of the most dangerous foes in the world, but the thought of leaning in, of kissing you right here and now, terrified him in a way he hadn’t felt in years. But it also felt right. So he took the plunge.
He leaned in, closing the distance, his lips brushing yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, but as you responded, it deepened, becoming something more. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, and Logan could barely believe what had just happened.
“I… uh,” Logan started, but you cut him off with another kiss, and this time, he didn’t hold back.
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After that night, Logan and you were inseparable. But Ted wasn’t done. He kept showing up, trying to win your attention back, and each time, Logan’s jealousy flared hotter. He wasn’t used to fighting for someone like this—most of the time, people just got out of his way. But you were worth it.
One day, Logan found Ted waiting by your front door, holding a bouquet of flowers. Logan’s jaw clenched as he approached, his boots heavy on the gravel. The sight of Ted standing there, grinning like an idiot, made his blood boil.
"Hey, man," Ted greeted, acting casual, like he wasn’t trying to worm his way into your life.
Logan stopped a few feet away, his eyes narrowing. "What’re you doin’ here?"
Ted shrugged, holding up the flowers. "Just thought I’d surprise her. She’s been working hard, figured she could use a little pick-me-up."
Logan felt his claws itching to pop out, but he kept them in check. He wasn’t going to lose his cool—not in front of you, not over some wannabe Romeo.
“She don’t need your flowers,” Logan growled, taking a step closer. “She’s got all the pick-me-ups she needs.”
Ted laughed, but there was a nervous edge to it. "Come on, Logan. You’re a good guy and all, but she’s not yours. You can’t just scare off every guy who shows interest."
Logan’s eyes flashed with something dark, a reminder that he wasn’t just some regular guy. "You’d be smart to back off, Ted. This ain’t a game."
Before Ted could respond, your front door opened, and you stepped out, your eyes widening when you saw the two men facing off. "Logan? Ted? What’s going on?"
Logan forced himself to relax, stepping back to give you space. "Just havin’ a chat with Ted here."
Ted quickly handed you the flowers, a sheepish grin on his face. "Hey, I just wanted to bring these by. Thought they might brighten your day."
You smiled politely, taking the flowers, but your eyes darted to Logan, who was still standing there, tense as a coiled spring. "Thanks, Ted. That’s sweet of you."
Ted beamed, but his smile faltered when he saw the way you looked at Logan. "Well, I should get going. I’ll see you around."
You nodded, and as Ted walked away, you turned to Logan, who was still glaring after him. "Logan, what was that about?"
Logan grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. "Nothin’. Just don’t like the way he’s always hangin’ around."
You sighed, stepping closer to him, and placing a hand on his arm. "Logan, you don’t have to worry about Ted. I’m not interested in him like that."
Logan’s eyes softened slightly as he looked at you, the tension in his shoulders easing. "You sure about that? ‘Cause it looks like he’s gonna keep tryin’."
You smiled, squeezing his arm. "I’m sure. You’re the one I want to be with."
Logan’s heart skipped a beat at your words. He wasn’t used to this—this feeling of being wanted, of being chosen. It was new and terrifying, but he couldn’t deny that it made him feel something he hadn’t in a long time.
He nodded, his voice gruff but sincere. "I’ll keep that in mind."
You leaned in, kissing him softly on the cheek, and Logan felt his resolve strengthen. He wasn’t going to let some punk like Ted get between you two. He’d fight for you, tooth and claw, if he had to.
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As the weeks passed, the tension between Logan and Ted simmered just below the surface. Ted still tried to worm his way into your life, showing up at odd hours, bringing little gifts, and always flashing that charming smile. But every time, Logan was there, watching, waiting, his jealousy growing stronger by the day.
You could sense the turmoil in Logan, even if he tried to hide it. He was rough around the edges, but you knew there was more to him than the gruff exterior he showed the world. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you—it was all so careful, so deliberate, like he was afraid you might disappear if he wasn’t careful.
One evening, as a summer storm raged outside, you found Logan sitting on your porch, his eyes lost in the rain. You stepped outside, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders, and sat down beside him.
"Babe," you said softly, placing a hand on his knee. "What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?"
Logan didn’t look at you right away. He stared out into the storm, the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance. "Just thinkin’," he finally muttered, his voice barely audible over the rain.
"About Ted?" you asked, knowing the answer.
Logan grunted in response, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "’Bout a lot of things."
You moved closer, resting your head on his shoulder. "Talk to me, babe. I can’t help if you keep everything bottled up."
Logan sighed, his rough exterior cracking just a bit. "I don’t like him hangin’ around you, okay? Every time I see him, it’s like this… this beast inside me just wants to tear him apart."
You blinked, surprised by the raw honesty in his words. "Logan…"
He turned to look at you, his eyes dark and intense. "I’ve done a lotta things in my life I ain’t proud of. Seen things, lost people… I don’t want to lose you, too. But every time I see you with him, it’s like… I dunno, like I’m gonna lose somethin’ important. And it scares the hell outta me."
You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing against his stubbled cheeks. "You’re not gonna lose me, babe. I’m here, and I’m not goin’ anywhere. But you gotta trust me, okay? Trust that I know what I want."
Logan swallowed hard, nodding slightly. "I trust you, darlin’. It’s me I don’t trust."
You smiled softly, leaning in to kiss him, and Logan melted into the touch, the storm outside forgotten as he wrapped his arms around you. For the first time in years, he felt like maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to be alone anymore.
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The next day, Logan was out back, chopping wood to burn off some of the restless energy that had been plaguing him. The sound of the axe hitting the wood was rhythmic, almost meditative, but his thoughts were anything but calm.
Ted showed up again, this time strolling right into Logan’s yard like he owned the place. Logan didn’t stop what he was doing, but he didn’t have to—Ted came right up to him, hands shoved in his pockets, a cocky smirk on his face.
"Hey, Logan," Ted said, his tone too casual for Logan’s liking. "We need to talk."
Logan paused mid-swing, the axe hovering in the air. "’Bout what?"
"About her," Ted replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Look, man, I get it. You’ve got this whole rough, mysterious vibe going on, but let’s be real—how long do you think you can keep her interested? She’s young, full of life. You… well, you’re not exactly a spring chicken, are you?"
Logan’s grip tightened on the axe handle, his knuckles turning white. He lowered the axe slowly, turning to face Ted fully. "You tryin’ to start somethin’, kid?"
Ted held up his hands in mock surrender. "Not at all. I’m just sayin’, maybe it’s time you stepped aside. Let her have a shot at something real, something that’s not tied down by… whatever you got goin’ on."
Logan’s claws itched to come out, but he held them back, forcing himself to stay calm. "You don’t know a damn thing about me, or what she wants."
"Maybe not," Ted admitted, his smirk widening. "But I know what I see. And what I see is a man who’s past his prime, holding onto something he can’t keep."
Logan took a step forward, his eyes darkening with barely controlled rage. "You keep pushin’, and you’ll see just how much fight I got left in me."
Ted’s smirk faltered for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. "Look, I’m not here to fight. I’m here to give you a choice—step aside, or I’ll make sure you regret not doing it."
Logan’s lips curled into a snarl, his claws itching to break free, but he knew better. As much as he wanted to tear Ted apart, he knew that wasn’t the answer. Instead, he took a deep breath, forcing the rage back down. "You ever come near her again, I won’t be responsible for what happens next."
Ted’s eyes flashed with something—fear, maybe—but he quickly masked it with a cocky grin. "We’ll see about that, old man."
With that, Ted turned and walked away, leaving Logan standing there, his heart pounding with anger and frustration. He knew he had to do something, but the question was, how far was he willing to go to keep you safe?
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That evening, Logan found you sitting on your porch, the soft glow of the setting sun casting a warm light over your face. You smiled when you saw him, but your smile faltered slightly when you noticed the tension in his eyes. Logan sat down beside you, his usual stoic expression replaced by something deeper, more troubled. You could tell he had something on his mind.
"Babe," you began softly, reaching for his hand. "What’s wrong? You’ve been distant all day."
Logan took a deep breath, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. He wasn’t sure how to start, but he knew he couldn’t keep this from you any longer. "Ted came by earlier," he said, his voice low.
You frowned, concern knitting your brows together. "What did he want?"
Logan’s jaw tightened as he recalled the conversation. "He thinks I should step aside. That I’m not what you need."
You blinked in surprise, not expecting that. "Step aside? Babe, that’s ridiculous. What did you say?"
Logan looked away, staring out at the horizon. "I told him to back off. But… part of me wonders if he’s right."
You were taken aback by his words. "Babe, how can you even think that? You’re everything I need. You’re strong, caring, and… you make me feel safe."
Logan shook his head, a bitter chuckle escaping him. "Safe, huh? I’m anything but safe. I got a past full of blood and regret. I’m not the kind of guy who’s good for someone like you."
You squeezed his hand tighter, not willing to let him pull away. "I don’t care about your past, Logan. I care about who you are now, and who you are to me. Ted doesn’t know you—he doesn’t know us. And I’m not going to let him or anyone else decide what’s right for me."
Logan turned to look at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt. But all he saw was the sincerity in your gaze, the unwavering belief that he was worth fighting for. It stirred something deep within him, something he hadn’t felt in a long time—hope.
"But what if he’s right?" Logan asked, his voice barely a whisper. "What if I’m just foolin’ myself, thinking I can have somethin’ good without it all fallin’ apart?"
You leaned in closer, your other hand coming up to cradle his face. "Logan, life isn’t about being perfect or having all the answers. It’s about making choices, and I’ve chosen you. I want to be with you, and I’m not afraid of what that means. We’ll figure it out together, no matter what."
Logan’s breath hitched as he felt the weight of your words. It wasn’t just about Ted, or his past, or the fears that haunted him. It was about trust—trusting you, trusting himself, and trusting that maybe, just maybe, he could have something good for once in his life.
He nodded slowly, his eyes softening as he leaned his forehead against yours. "I don’t deserve you, but I’m not gonna let you go."
You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "Good. Because I’m not going anywhere."
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world in twilight, Logan felt a sense of peace wash over him. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t just surviving—he was living.
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The next day, you decided it was time to put an end to Ted’s advances once and for all. You couldn’t let him continue to disrupt the peace you and Logan had fought so hard to build. You called Ted, asking him to meet you at a local café, a public place where you could have a conversation without the threat of things getting out of hand.
Ted arrived, all smiles, clearly thinking that you’d finally come to your senses. But when he saw the serious expression on your face, his grin faltered.
“Hey,” he greeted, trying to sound casual. “What’s up?”
You didn’t waste any time getting to the point. “Ted, we need to talk about this… whatever this is.”
Ted sat down across from you, his expression growing more serious. “Okay, I’m listening.”
You took a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. “I appreciate the attention, I do. But this has to stop. I’m with Logan, and that’s not going to change.”
Ted’s eyes darkened slightly, but he kept his tone light. “You don’t have to be. You deserve better, someone who can give you a normal life. Logan… he’s dangerous.”
You shook your head, not letting his words shake you. “Logan isn’t dangerous to me. He’s been through a lot, but that doesn’t change who he is—who he is to me. I care about him, Ted. This isn’t something you can just talk me out of.”
Ted leaned forward, a desperate edge creeping into his voice. “But why him? You could have anyone, someone who can give you a future, a family…”
You sighed, feeling a pang of pity for Ted. He didn’t understand—he couldn’t. “Ted, you’re a good guy, but you’re not the one I want. I’m sorry if that hurts, but it’s the truth.”
Ted’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. “So that’s it? You’re just going to throw away a chance at something real for a guy like him?”
You stood up, your decision firm. “I’ve already got something real, Ted. And I’m not going to throw it away.”
Ted watched as you turned to leave, a storm of emotions playing across his face. But you didn’t look back. You had made your choice, and there was no room for doubt.
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When you returned home, Logan was waiting for you, a mix of anxiety and hope in his eyes. “How’d it go?”
You smiled, wrapping your arms around him. “It’s over. I told him I’m with you, and that’s not going to change.”
Logan exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relief flooding through him. “You sure he got the message?”
You nodded, resting your head against his chest. “Yeah, I’m sure. He won’t bother us again.”
Logan’s arms tightened around you, holding you close. “Thank you, darlin’. For choosing me.”
You looked up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I didn’t just choose you, Logan. I chose us. And I’m not letting go.”
Logan leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow, tender, and full of all the things he couldn’t put into words. In that moment, all the doubts, the fears, the what-ifs—they all melted away, leaving only the two of you and the life you were building together.
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Years passed, and the love between you and Logan only grew stronger. You faced challenges together, fought battles side by side, and through it all, you never wavered in your commitment to one another. Logan learned to let go of the guilt and pain that had haunted him for so long, finding peace in the life you shared.
And as you sat together on your porch, watching the sunset, you knew that this was where you were meant to be. With Logan by your side, you felt complete, knowing that no matter what the future held, you would face it together.
Because in the end, love wasn’t about finding someone who was perfect. It was about finding someone who made you feel like you were worth fighting for—someone who made you feel alive. And that was exactly what you had found in Logan. You leaned into Logan’s embrace, feeling his warmth surround you. And in that moment, you knew that you had found a love that would endure, a love that would last a lifetime.
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claws-and-quills · 9 days
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Alone
A/N: Another self-indulgent fic involving Old Man Logan because, let's face it, I would absolutely let him destroy my cervix
CW: Implied Age Gap, Established Situationship, Situationship Turned Relationship, Thigh Riding, Lap Dance, Mentions of Adult Entertainment/Stripping, Strip Tease, Soft Dom/Sub Dynamic, Unprotected Sex, Mentions of Male and Female Anatomy, Marking, Slight Breeding Kink(?), Praise Kink, Daddy Kink
Genre: Fluff and Smut
Pairing: Old Man Logan x Fem Mutant!Reader
Word Count: 3.9k
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You had been seeing Logan for quite some time now. At first, it started as a once in a while occurrence, but over the past few months, seeing him had become more of a regular routine. It started off as a nightly thing in the evenings you worked. At first, you thought of him as being this battered, beaten, drunk old man. But after a few encounters, lap dances, and conversations, you discovered that he's actually not that bad of a person.
Tonight was a rare night that you got to be alone with Logan in the comfort of your own home. Your heart practically lept into your throat at the subtle knock at your apartment door. Without hesitation, you open the door to greet him. The corners of his eyes crease and wrinkle as he smiles down at you. Taking his hand into yours, you gently pull him into your apartment. With Logan, you had broken so many of the promises you had made to yourself as a stripper. He was the first man you allowed to touch you during a lap dance; the first man you willingly kissed during a private session; the first man that you fucked both inside and outside of work, and now you've broken the biggest rule you ever set to yourself. You've allowed him not just into your home but into your life, too.
In the beginning, it was just purely for the thrill. The idea of going against everything you knew and was taught was such an adrenaline rush in the beginning. But now, just the sight of Logan made your heart and stomach somersault. It was nothing serious at first, but now, that all began to change. His soft chuckle brings you out of your thoughts. Your cheeks and chest heat up at the realization that he could hear the helpless fluttering of your heart. He curls a strong arm around your waist, gently pulling you against his body.
“Excited to see me?” He teased quietly. You allow yourself to melt into his embrace, resting your hands on his chest while you gaze up at him, feigning mock innocence. You chuckle softly under your breath. With him, it was damn near impossible to hide anything. Despite his age, he still had his heightened senses. He could hear the happy pitter patter of your heart; smell the sweet aroma of your natural scent; he could practically taste you on his tongue.
“A little. I'm almost finished with dinner. Have a seat, and get comfortable.” You stand on your tiptoes, placing a tender and chaste kiss against his lips. His hands grip the curves of your hips, pulling you closer. His coarse beard scratches at your skin, drawing small goosebumps to the surface of your arms and around your neck and chest. Your hands find his chest, and a soft chuckle tickles the back of your throat. Never in your wildest of dreams or fantasies would have imagined yourself in a situation like this. You were comfortable, felt appreciated, and felt loved even.
“Sometimes, you really are too good for me.” Logan murmured softly. You had grown to understand that was his own way of appreciating you. Words and emotions were never his strong suit, but the same went for you as well. There was no real in-between with you. Either you spoke and rambled too much, or you didn't speak at all. With Logan, you felt grounded, stable, and at ease. Once his grip fell from your hips, you were able to hurry into the kitchen to finish the final touches to dinner.
On any other night, you would have settled for takeout. A night that blurred together of music, wandering hands, and the hushed sounds of rough, desperate sex. Tonight, though, was going to be different. You watched from over your shoulder as Logan shrugged out of his jacket. The white beater he wore underneath really accentuated how toned his body was. You couldn't keep your eyes off of him. He was imperfectly perfect in your eyes. Small moments like this, you cherished the most with him. They didn't come around often, but when they did, you never wanted them to end. After fixing up a plate for both you and Logan, you join him at your small kitchen table.
Over the course of the past several months, Logan had let you in little by little. He could smell on you that you, too, were a mutant. The moments he'd let his guard down with you, we're cherished deeply. He had opened up little by little about his life with Charles and taking on the responsibility of fatherhood to Laura. Hearing more of his struggles had drawn you in closer to him. Against his will, you had always found ways to help Logan with Charles and Laura, whether it was affording the medications for Charles’ seizures or guiding Logan through the labyrinth of being a girl dad. You tried to be there for all of them in some way or another. Though his mouth never said it, you knew he was thankful for you. He had his own ways of showing gratitude towards you.
“So, what's the special occasion?” Logan finally asks, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled into the air. The look in his eyes was hard to read. The soft smile that curled the corner of his lips made your heart skip a beat.
“I wanted to do something nice for you. Do I really need an excuse to pamper you and treat you to something nice?” You ask innocently, batting your eyes at him. He rolls his eyes with a soft shake of his head. “Besides, I think in the last six months, this is the first time where we can actually enjoy each other. I wanted it to be something special.”
Logan's hard features soften, a rare sight you hardly witnessed. For a brief moment, you could have sworn the faintest hint of appreciation softened the hard lines that rested on his weathered features. You chuckle softly, reaching over to gently squeeze his hand with assurance. By this time, you could practically guess his thoughts. From the expression he held in his eyes, it looked as though he held guilt to them. His eyes trail up along your body, resting on your eyes while he breathes out a quiet, and apologetic sigh.
“Don't be a sour puss, Lo. I wanted to do this for you. I'm not expecting anything back out of this. With you…I don't feel so alone. You've slowly let me into your life; have taken care of me in more ways than I can count; and…you've made life a little less boring for me.” Using your thumb, you gently caress his worn and scarred knuckles. He opens his mouth to protest, but sighs at the look you give him.
“Well, guess I'll just have to show my appreciation in some other way then, now won't I?” He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss onto your knuckles. Something in his eyes changes as he stands up. In a fluid motion, he pulls you to stand with him so that his lips can be crushed against yours. A soft gasp is pulled from your lips as his hands find the soft curves of your ass. Gripping your ass tightly, he lifts you up with ease, setting you on the kitchen counter. The amount of strength he had in his broken and old body still amazed you no matter how many times you've been handled like this.
“Lo…” You murmur against his lips, sliding your hands down his chest. “Let me take care of you.” Your hands grip his shoulders as your head lulls back against the wall. Chills run through your body as his lips move from your mouth to follow the subtle curve of your neck. The combination of the heat of his mouth partnered with the roughness of his beard against your sensitive skin elicits a soft, needy moan from your lips. His hands slide up the soft curves of your waist, up past your ribs, and to your breasts, roughly palming them into his hands through your shirt and bra.
“Never said that you couldn't, doll.” He husks against your neck. His lips find a particularly sensitive spot along your pulse, sucking harshly and drawing another needy moan from you. Your fingers become entangled into his salt and pepper hair, tugging his head away from your neck. His lips are on yours again, for a deep and heated kiss. His thumbs draw tight circles over the tender buds of your nipples, drawing a soft whine from you yet again. He pulls away just enough to hungrily suck down air. A small string of saliva is the only thing keeping your lips connected. His eyes slowly close at the sensation of your lips against the scarred and worn skin along his neck. Your tongue traces the length of a jagged scar on his neck, pausing just above his collarbone.
“Bedroom. I'll meet you there. Get comfortable. You won't be disappointed.” You breathe, leaving a trail of kisses back up his neck. Your teeth gently nibble on his earlobe, earning a guttural growl from him. He leans his head against your shoulder with an almost disappointed groan.
“You're going to be the death of me,” he groans against your shoulder but pulls away just enough to look down at you. His eyes were soft and clouded with a hungry need that only you could fill. Reluctantly, he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before slowly walking down towards your bedroom. Regaining your composure, you do a quick and haphazard job of cleaning up the kitchen. All you worried about was allowing Logan to have your undivided attention for the entire night.
Once the kitchen is tidied up, you step into the bathroom to change. As much as you didn't want to admit it, you had put a lot of thought into this night. Even if it was a situationship right now, being with Logan was one of the best things to have happened to you. You eagerly change out of your clothes, replacing them with a dark blue, lacy lingerie set. The corset-like bra cupped your breasts perfectly, accentuating your cleavage beautifully. The matching panties rested dangerously low on your hips and hugged the supple curves of your ass. To top it off, you drape a see-through nighty over your shoulders. A soft smile tugs at your lips as you playfully knock at the bedroom door, leaning against the doorframe. You can't help but eye him softly. Though you had seen his bare body before, you always cherished moments like this.
The light emitted from the lamp on the bedside table had cast a series of shadows across his body. You can visibly see how his breathing changes at the sight of you. His breaths went from slow, composed, and even, too deep, ragged, and needy. His eyes hungrily rake across your body, memorizing every curve and dip along your skin. You take your time walking over to him on the bed, and your sweet, succulent scent fills his senses. Placing a hand on his bare chest, you gently push him to lay back on his elbows. Using your knees, you force his legs open so that you can straddle one of his thighs. His eyes meet yours just as you start to move your hips, grinding yourself slowly and longingly onto his thigh. He lifts his leg just enough so that his knee brushes against your clothed clit.
Logan lifts his head to meet your gaze through half lidded eyes. An appreciative and heated groan grumbles deep in his chest, dragging his eyes down your curvaceous body. Pushing onto his elbows, he leans into you, capturing your lips with his. Your hands rest on his broad shoulders, slowly sliding down his rock hard chest. Your fingers graze over welted and worn scars; your hips slowly roll against his thigh once more as you grind yourself against his muscular thigh. A soft blush threatens to dust your cheeks at the sensation of his hands gripping your hips, guiding your movements on his leg. Your hands slide from his chest, gripping the bottom of your nighty, and slowly work it up your body, tossing the fabric onto the small stool that Logan had left his folded shirt and pants. You could feel his growing erection against your thigh through his boxers.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, moving your legs so that you're completely straddling his lap now. He dips his head towards your chest, pressing a chaste kiss just above the valley of your breasts. His beard felt heavenly and sinful against your soft, velvety skin. His hands slide from your hips, gripping your sides just below your ribcage. His grip on you is solid and unwavering, allowing you to arch into him, bending backwards just enough to show off a portion of your flexibility. His hands travel up your spine until they settle onto the clasp of your lacy bra. You moan a soft ‘yes’ to him, allowing him to undo the clasps and slowly slide the straps down your arms. Once the garment is removed, he tosses it somewhere across the room. Your eyes flutter as his hot breath cascades down the valley between your breasts. His mouth leaves a series of chaste and hungry kisses along the soft mounds of your breasts. Your nipples harden into stiff peaks as the cool air laps at your skin.
Logan eagerly palms your bare breasts, roughly massaging them. His ministrations pull a needy whimper from your lips. A familiar heat began to pool between your thighs, dampening your panties. With every grind, roll, and bumps of your hips against his, you could feel his hardening cock brush against your ever needy cunt. Your eyes flutter as the demanding heat of his mouth encases one of your aching nipples. He swirled his tongue around the tender bud, using his hand to give the other a similar treatment by rolling the aching bud between his thumb and forefinger.
“Logan…” you mewl softly, your voice barely above a hoarse whisper. He grunts against your skin in acknowledgment. Your thighs ached and burned for him. You needed him like a drug; needed to feel him fill your tight little cunt with his cock.
“Yes, doll?” He finally lifts his head to meet your gaze. You thread your fingers through his hair, gasping as he slides a hand between your thighs. His fingers press up into your clothed pussy, grinding your lace panties against your clit. The friction sets every fiber in your body on fire. He watches you through half lidded eyes as you grind yourself onto his fingers. “Tell me what you want, doll. Use your words for me, pretty girl.” He husks against your ear. He could smell your arousal as it pooled into your thighs and cunt.
“Ah–fuck…” your head lulls back as he pushes a finger deep into your velvety walls. Your mouth falls open as a second one is added. He starts to slowly fuck his fingers up into you, scissoring them to stretch out your walls. A shaky breath falls from your lips while you eagerly grind yourself onto his fingers.
“So fucking needy. Coming undone for me already, sweet girl.” He praises quietly, curling his fingers to brush against your g-spot. The added pressure makes you move your hips in a slow circle on his fingers. “Such a good girl.” His praises reach your core, making your walls clench on his fingers.
“Please…I need you…” You plead while slowly bouncing on his fingers in an attempt to chase the high that you desperately need. He pulls his fingers out of your sopping cunt. A soft whimper fell from your lips at the emptiness.
“Let daddy take care of you,” he growls into your ear. His cock was throbbing in need of filling you up. Your legs felt weak under your weight as you slid from his lap so that you could ease your soaking panties down your thighs. Logan tugs his boxers down his thighs, kicking them across the room before laying back against the bed. Using the slick from your arousal, he pumps his cock a few times, groaning deep in his chest. His thumb smears the glistening precum across the swollen head of his cock.
Crawling onto the bed, you straddle his lap again, whimpering as he drug his leaking cock through your slick, velvety folds. The look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. Slowly, you sink onto his cock, allowing his length and girth to stretch your tight and quivering walls. His hands grip your hips, slowly guiding you up and down his length. Every movement is accompanied by a squelching squish as his cock rubs the inside of your dripping pussy. You grip his shoulders, head lulling back as you bounce on him. He watches you with hungry eyes; watching the way you took his cock with ease, the way your breasts bounce with every movement on him.
“Fucking beautiful. Mmm, good girl. You're doing well, pretty girl…” his hands slide up your sides, caressing and squeezing your breasts before curling his arms around you. He pulls you in closer, making you lean down into him. His lips are desperately crushed against yours; his tongue flicking against your lower lip, asking for entrance. Your tongue meets his, the kiss deepening and growing more hungry and passionate. Your heated moans are swallowed by his demanding mouth as he bucks his hips up into you. His movements are slow, gentle even, as he nudges his cock even deeper into you.
His hands slide down the spanse of your back, resting on the supple mounds of your ass. He gives your ass a firm smack, earning a pained yelp from you. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he bends his knees, pushing you up just a little further onto his body. Still gripping your ass, he bucks his hips up into you, the head of his cock brushes against your cervix, making you groan loudly. Your eyes flutter as he fills you more and more with every inch of his aching cock until he fully bottoms out. Arching your back, you desperately grind on his cock in need of orgasm. He could feel you were so close to spilling over for him with every flutter of your walls on him.
“Such a needy girl. Keep going. Good girl. I know you need to cum. Don't stop.” He husks against your lips. You bury your face in the hollow of his neck near his shoulder. Soft whimpers fall from your lips as you chase your high. The coil in the bottom of your stomach twists and curls before finally unraveling. Your vision goes white and your walls clenched tightly around Logan, earning a heated growl out of him. “Oh fuck…good girl. That's my girl…I know you have another one in you. Think you can cum for me again, doll?”
You nod meekly against his shoulder. Your legs trembled beneath you felt like jello. A high-pitched squeal is pulled from you as Logan effortlessly flips your positions, resting his weight on his elbows as he gazes down at you. “Lo…daddy…” you mewl, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I need you…”
Logan snaps his hips against yours at your words. You moan his name loudly, sinking your nails into his chiseled back. He groans against your neck, panting with every movement of his hips. It always drove him over the edge when you left marks across his skin and back. Every thrust from him is harsh and powerful, causing the box spring to squeak and the headboard collide against the wall. You didn't care if your neighbors could hear the ways Logan defiled you. Your mouth finds a sensitive spot on his neck; sinking your teeth into it, you suck harshly, knowing you'd leave a rapidly bruising hickey there. His entire body goes rigid for a moment until a growl escapes him at the pain.
“Fuck…marking me up, pretty girl? ‘m gonna fill that tight little pussy up. You're gonna take every fucking drop of my cum, pretty girl?” he growls against your ear. You can only nod, coherent words feeling impossible to form as he fucks you into the mattress. “Use your words, pretty girl…tell me what you want…”
“You…please…I need you to cum in me, daddy. Fill me up…please…” you beg helplessly. Your nails threatened to break the skin at the backs of his shoulders. He could feel that you were close again, and he was too. His hips began to stutter against yours, leaving him grunting breathily with every movement.
“Fucking good girl…” he groans. Your words are enough to send him over the edge. Your walls flutter and clench around his cock, forcing hot spurts to coat your cervix in white. His knuckles turn almost white with how tightly he grips the headboard. He clenches his teeth as his claws cut through his knuckles. His hips slowly still against yours. He's left panting raggedly against your shoulder. Your fluttering walls milk him dry of everything he's worth. He presses a tender kiss against your cheek before collapsing beside you. His chest heaves as he drinks down gulps of air. Turning over, you lay partially on top of him, your head against his chest.
“That…that was amazing…” you finally breathlessly say. He chuckles softly, curling an arm around you, pulling you completely on top of his body.
“Mmm, it was…” he grunts in agreement, tenderly stroking your hair. “Maybe we need to get alone like this more often.” He lifts his head to look down at you with soft eyes. A soft smile tugs at his lips.
“That, I can agree to.” You place a soft kiss against his sweat slick chest. “Are your hands okay? You're bleeding…” you sat up, tenderly taking one of his hands into both of yours. He knew protesting wouldn't get him anywhere as he watched you. Before he could protest, you hurry off to the bathroom to grab a first aid kit. By the time you return, he's sitting up in the bed with his back against the headboard, gingerly trying to push the metal claws back into his wrists.
“Let me help you…” You kneel between his legs, taking his hand into yours. His brows furrowed together as he watched you. He breathes out a quiet, appreciative sigh though his nose at how you massaged his hand and arm. His lips part slightly, but no words come out. Small traces of blood drip down his hand as you help to work his claws back onto the skin.
“You're really too good for me…way too good to me…” He finally murmurs, flexing his hand. You shake your head, carefully wrapping his hand in bandages before laying back against him.
“You're welcome.” You chuckle softly, knowing that was his way of saying thank you. “I…I love you Logan…until my last breath…”
He takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your head up towards him. His eyes are hard but soft at the same time. His brows fitted together tightly. “Until my last dying breath…” Holding you closely against his chest, he curls his body around yours to lay down. You fit perfectly against him, like a missing puzzle piece.
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phantomstatistician · 4 months
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Fandom: DuckTales (2017)
Sample Size: 2,918 stories
Source: AO3
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eddiekaspbrakirlsblog · 6 months
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when I remember in IT chapter two that reddie were gonna leave TOGETHER I go insane like that whole scene where Richie’s like “Eduardo andele let’s go!” And when Eddie’s like “I just have to grab my toiletry bag and then we can go” WE CAN GO ???? WE ? AS IN TWO ? AS IN US TOGETHER ?????
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doctorsiren · 25 days
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age swap mogami? the most wettest cat kid ever
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hello chara undertale
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He just never had any positive adult influences in his life because he was a child star and was “always watched but never seen” (I’m quoting an ageswap fic called “A Good Person” by qrovers, please read it omg it’s so good 😭)
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Oh and then bonus is this one I drew yesterday (before I got this ask) based on a goofy stock photo
The inconsistency here is that Mogami wouldn’t be alive 😭
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mistyorchid · 16 days
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Meet-Cute Ch. 2
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Old Man Logan x fem! reader
Summary: Logan is a man of his word. You and Logan have your first date in the only nice restaurant in town, except it doesn't last long because you want him the food hot to go. Meet-Cute Ch. 1 Warnings: MDNI, no use of y/n, fluff and smut, age gap, reader is 21+, pet names (doll, baby), oral (fem! receiving), fingering, praise kink, light slapping, logan's claws come out, set after the events of Logan (2017) except he doesn't die, some angst it's all in logan's head dw. wc: 4k
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Logan mindlessly traced the glass of water he'd been nursing for the past hour. The circular rim numbed his finger as he theorized all the reasons you might've been late.
He tended to foster seeds of doubt within his mind, an old habit that was built by decades of loss and betrayal. Romance was almost always an empty promise.
Logan checked the clock on the wall without moving his head, not wanting the other patrons to assume he was being stood up. He enjoyed wallowing in his solitude by drinking alone at dingy bars, but that was before he met you. Now, all he could fantasize about was showing you off to every establishment in town, softly guiding you to each bar counter by the small of your back.
The Italian place on fifth street, 8PM, you recited after exiting Logan's limo last night. Before opening the door, you checked your phone. 7:50 PM. You would've arrived twenty minutes earlier, but you didn't want to seem too eager, so you decided to touch up your makeup before heading out.
Logan noticed the restaurant's comforting hum cease when you entered the lobby. He's pretty sure he could hear some poor guy choke on a meatball, stunned at the sight of your little black dress.
You were busy exchanging information with the maître d', nervously darting your eyes around the room to find your date. When he realized you mouthed the word, "Logan," he sprung up from the booth and briskly walked to the lobby.
"Evening, doll," he beamed, extending his arm. A faint blush settled on your cheeks as you looped your hand around his bicep. He stole glances at your outfit as he guided you to the booth, suddenly leaning down to whisper, "You look stunning. I'm glad you came."
Logan gestured towards the seat opposite him, but you motioned for him to scoot further into the booth so you could sit alongside each other.
He raised an eyebrow, confused by the unusual arrangement. You explained, "I want to be next to you, if that's okay. Sitting across from you feels way too formal after last night."
Logan inhaled sharply, suddenly reminded of the intoxicating drag of your skin against his. He replayed the heavenly echo of your debauched whines in his head, silently praying that you'd let him hear them again.
"Yeah, of course," he agreed, sliding to the end of the booth.
You followed, leaving a small gap. The urge to connect your thigh with his was strong, but you tried to maintain decorum for the other patrons. Your eyes briefly met Logan's before surveying the table, noticing that the candle in the centerpiece was comically short.
"How long have you been waiting?" You asked, peering up at Logan's relieved face.
He stroked his beard, contemplating whether to be truthful or lie to save face. "About an hour," he responded. Logan decided that you deserved the truth; he wanted the foundation of your budding relationship to be built on candor. "You weren't late, I arrived way too fuckin' early. Haven't been this nervous for a first date since . . . well, ever."
You pouted your lips and gently placed your right hand on his thigh. He instantly flexed, surprised at the abrupt contact.
"Aw, baby . . . " You doted, slightly leaning to whisper into his ear. "There's nothin' to be nervous about. You already know I like you enough to suck your co-"
Logan swallowed the end of your sentence, his left hand cradling your jaw to angle your lips into his. You gasped into his mouth, earning a playful bite on your lower lip.
"You wanna give me a heart attack, doll? Jesus Christ." He muttered, releasing his grip on you and straightening himself in the booth.
You smirked, removing your hand from his thigh. A waiter appeared, acknowledging your arrival. "Ah, good evening, signorina," he beamed. "Mr. Howlett has been patiently waiting for you. Welcome to Frizzante."
While placing two menus on the table, he started reciting the specials, emphasizing the last item. "Tonight, our chef has prepared a Festa degli Innamorati. Lover's Feast," he translated.
Logan wanted the seat cushions to swallow him whole. Frizzante's sous chef was a personal friend of his; the bastard must've seen his name on the reservation and whipped up something special to embarrass him.
You stifled a laugh at the sight of Logan's dumbfounded expression. "It's served family-style, with two separate plates so you can share. It's a beautiful spaghetti dish blended with the savory roe of sea urchins and fresh margherita tomatoes. I assure you, it's an incredibly rich and unique experience."
"That sounds wonderful," you chimed, appreciating the waiter's suggestion.
Logan couldn't help admiring the sweet smile that spread across your face. He slid the menus towards the waiter before responding, "We'll take the Lover's Feast, thank you." He silently cringed at the feeling of the special name rolling off his tongue, but he found himself willing to curtail his pride if it made you happy.
The steady hum of the restaurant lulled you into a comfortable silence. The waiter soon returned with a glass of water and a warm basket that filled the air with the savory scent of flour and butter.
Logan picked it up, offering you a slice. "Would you like some bread?"
"Yes, please. Thank you." You giggled as you retrieved a slice.
After you sunk your teeth into the aromatic bread, he took a slice for himself. "What's so funny?" He asked, playfully raising his eyebrows.
You chewed slowly, savoring the richness of the dough. "You're being so . . . proper. I'm not used to guys treating dates like . . ."
". . . A date?" Logan finished, perplexed by your response. "Those guys don't know how to treat a woman." He huffed, wondering how anyone could fuck up the privilege of courting you.
Your eyes raked over his clean blazer, following the strong curve of his arm before landing on his wrist.
"You're wearing cufflinks . . . " You murmured, in awe of the lustrous material.
Logan moved his arm closer so you could feel them. "You gotta expect more than the bare minimum, baby." He chuckled.
You slowly swirled the round cufflinks with your middle finger. "So-" You paused, shifting closer so your bare leg finally grazed the cool material of his slacks. "-If you're so traditional, why didn't you pick me up?"
Logan cleared his throat, stunned by your confidence. "I would've, doll, trust me. Then I figured that you might've been uncomfortable if I asked where you lived. Best to meet in a public space," he reasoned.
His concern for your safety was undeniably attractive. You stopped tracing the edge of his cufflinks before whispering, "I fucked you within an hour of meeting you. I would've been comfortable giving you my address."
The fragrant smell of your pasta dish wafted through the aisle, momentarily relieving Logan from having to respond.
"Attached at the hip already?" The waiter quipped, noticing your proximity to Logan. He delicately lowered the platter onto the table, followed by two silverware sets and the most intricate plates you've ever seen.
"Buon appetito." The waiter gestured towards the dish with a grand flourish of his hand and then promptly walked away.
Logan waited for him to be out of earshot before saying, "I want to get to know you, but you're making it extremely fuckin' difficult with that dirty mouth of yours."
He used his utensils to scoop a large portion of pasta onto your plate before serving himself.
You bit your lip, picking up a fork to slowly twirl the fresh noodles. "Alright, what do you wanna know?" You asked, lifting the fork into your mouth.
"What do you do for fun? Besides fucking strangers within an hour of meeting them."
You choked on your food, shooting an accusatory glare towards Logan. "Okay, okay . . . you got me good. Um, I like going to shows. Punk, country, pop . . . I just love to feel the music in my bones."
Logan put his fork down and rested his chin on his palm, invested in your answer. He briefly envisioned your hips swaying to the soulful twang of Willie Nelson. "Live music, huh? I know a club around here that promotes every genre under the sun. We should go some time."
His left hand traced gentle circles on your knee. "This okay?" He asked, briefly pausing his movements. You rested your fork on the plate. "Mhm," you chirped, pleased by his courtesy.
"I also enjoy making art," you continued. Logan leaned closer. The majority of his past was dedicated to destroying things and harming people. He'd always admired those who used their time on earth to create.
"What kind of art?" Logan asked. You were distracted by the warmth of his palm, which was now splayed over the broad expanse of your thigh.
"I, uh- I like drawing, painting, making collages . . . mostly drawing, though. It's peaceful, you know? Making something out of nothing." You chewed the inside of your cheek, flustered by how intently Logan was looking at you.
He was daydreaming about making space for a studio back at the smelting plant, bringing you tea while you worked well into the night. The domesticity that he secretly yearned for manifested itself in your image.
"You're so beautiful, you know that? Could listen to you talk forever."
You smiled and bashfully looked down into your lap. "Thank you . . . " You lingered, focused on how he absentmindedly stroked your thigh with his thumb.
"What about you? What do you do in your free time?" You asked, peering up at him through your eyelashes.
"After work, I usually head to a bar and pop a couple of quarters in the jukebox to hear Cash while I drink."
Your eyes lit up at the mention of your favorite country artist. "Cash? Like, Johnny Cash? I love him."
Logan couldn't believe that you didn't make a snide remark about his "hobby." He elaborated anyway, not wanting to seem lazy in comparison.
"Yeah, exactly. I also like fixin' old motorcycles and gardening. Keeps me in shape, I guess." He didn't miss the way your thigh flexed, reacting to his words.
You loved a man who was handy . . . in more ways than one.
"You wanna get out of here?" You asked, desperate to relieve the palpable tension that settled in the charged space between your bodies. Your senses were overwhelmed again; the heady scent of his cologne mixing nicely with the smokey tendrils emanating from the candle.
Logan smirked. "I thought you'd never ask. My place or yours?"
Although your apartment was only a short walk's distance from the restaurant, you wanted to immerse yourself in a slice of Logan's world.
"I'd love to go home with you, if that's okay." You shyly tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
He fished out his wallet and haphazardly threw more than enough cash to cover the bill and your waiter's tip. The velvet material of your dress bunched around your thighs, further exaggerating the short hem.
Logan averted his eyes as you slid out of the booth. You turned around and tilted your head, realizing why he wasn't looking at you. "You're such a gentleman," you praised, straightening your dress.
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Logan didn't feel like a gentleman when he helped you into the passenger seat of his limo. He almost opened the back door, reminded of your first night together.
Your eyes grew heavy an hour into the drive. You yawned, soothed by the soft turns of the road and the limo's plush headrest.
"Sorry, doll. My place is a bit farther, away from the city." Logan apologized. "Feel free to rest up. I'll wake you when we get there," he continued.
You surrendered to your fatigue and closed your eyes. "Mkay. Thanks, Logan."
He smiled, glancing at the passenger seat a few times to admire how peaceful you looked.
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The first thing you felt when you woke up was Logan's callused hands supporting the back of your knees and your spine. You felt pleasantly weightless above the ground, realizing that Logan was carrying you past the threshold of a doorway.
"Mornin," he joked, noticing you scanning your surroundings. It was still late in the evening.
"Didn't want to wake you," he whispered, gently setting you on his bed. The smooth texture of the sheets contrasted with the rough corrugated walls of your environment.
"Where exactly do you live?" You asked, puzzled by the industrial nature of his home.
"A smelting plant north of the border. People leave me alone out here," he chuckled.
Logan exhaled as he sat on the edge of his bed, turning to meet your shocked expression.
"You mean I'm in Mexico right now? Logan!" You exclaimed, lightly slapping his arm.
He caught your wrist, weaving his large fingers through yours. "You're lucky I'm such a gentleman," he teased, reiterating your choice of words a few hours prior. Your hand relaxed into his.
"First, you followed me into my car. Tonight, you fell asleep while I drove to fuckin' Mexico. Now, you're in my bed wearing nothin' but a cute little dress," Logan smirked, letting his hand fall on his knee. His back ached from turning to caress your palm.
You blushed. "I can tell you're a good guy. I wouldn't have gone home with you if I didn't."
Logan doubted your praise. I'll force myself to pretend that's true, he thought.
The comforting chirp of cicadas serenaded you from outside. Linen curtains gently billowed above your head; the cool night air swathing your body like a translucent blanket. Logan suddenly averted his eyes, exposing the rugged plane of his neck. You breathed in notes of fresh cotton and bourbon as his potent cologne fanned out across the room.
"I need you, Logan." You sighed, slowly drifting onto your back and languidly spreading your legs. Your dress prevented you from fully relieving the throbbing sensation in your core, so you settled for tracing the inside of your thigh instead.
You faint sighs cascaded over your arched form and into Logan's ears like a siren's song.
Too many fuckin' layers, he thought, quickly unbuttoning his blazer and dress shirt before tossing them onto the floor.
He groaned when you skimmed the hard outline of his torso, gently tracing a prominent scar that ran across his ribcage. Logan leaned into your touch, closing his eyes and releasing hushed breaths.
He could get used to you tending to his wounds.
Logan strained his back to grip your legs, swinging you around so that your lower half hung over the bed.
"Can I take this off for you, baby?" He whispered, gathering the material of your dress by your hips.
"Mhm . . . " You nodded, hooking your knees over his shoulders for support. His palms firmly slid up your thighs and effortlessly shimmied the dress below your ass, pausing when the hem caught on the underside of your breasts.
He purposefully pressed the material harder against your torso before exposing your tits, forcing them to bounce harshly against your chest.
"You're so pretty," he sighed, cupping your breasts and leaning forward to gently tug on your nipples with his teeth. You bit your lip, knitting your eyebrows together as you admired how content he looked.
Logan's cock twitched in his slacks when your breath hitched in your throat after a particularly hard tug.
"You like when I make your tits sore, hm? Want me to make it all better?" He cooed, blowing lightly on your stiff nipples before enveloping them with his mouth.
His eyes rolled into the back of his head when you grabbed a fistful of his hair.
You crossed your arms, hastily moving your dress over your head. Logan paused, realizing that your shoes were still on. He slowly released your tits as he slinked down your body, his hot breath raising goosebumps along your stomach.
"Fuck," Logan moaned, now eye-level with your cunt. Your cotton underwear was soaked, clinging to the outline of your lips.
It was the simplest pair you owned, but Logan marveled at it like it was the most expensive set in the world.
He pushed closer, resting his chin on the edge of the bed. He arched his back slightly to accommodate the stretch.
"Can I taste you, baby?" He pleaded, staring at your dilated pupils.
"'Course you can, Logan . . . You can do anything to me, I-" He flattened his tongue and dragged it over your underwear, tasting the wetness that escaped the material.
The delicious pressure of his tongue cut off your response. "I trust you," you continued.
You whined when Logan distanced himself from your core to unbuckle your shoes.
"Shhh, let your old man make you more comfortable," he doted, placing a sweet kiss on your heel.
He resumed a kneeling position, sliding his hands under your thighs and bringing your clothed cunt closer to his hungry gaze. The intoxicating musk of your arousal unlocked a primal instinct within Logan.
A primal groan ripped from his throat as his claws unsheathed on either side of your face. His cock bucked into the unforgiving material of his pants.
After realizing what he'd done, Logan quickly withdrew his claws. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, doll, I could've hurt you . . . won't happen again," he apologized profusely.
You propped your elbows on the bed to get a better look at the bloody slits between his knuckles. "Oh my god," you gasped, eyes widening in fascination. "Are you a mutant?"
Logan's eyes slowly met yours, initially afraid to be met with a fearful expression. "Yes, I am. I've always had these claws, but they weren't always this-" Logan flexed his arm, a faint snikt sound filling the air. "-sharp," he continued.
Logan held his breath as you slowly ran a finger along the blunt side of the blade, admiring the way it reflected the moonlight.
"They're beautiful, Logan." You carefully guided his right hand to rest on your thigh. "Can you tear this off?" You asked, lightly snapping the underwear elastic against your hip.
"I don't want to hurt you, doll." Logan's claws hesitantly hovered over your skin.
"I trust you, remember?" You pulled the elastic away from your body, allowing him to lightly twist his wrist and cut through the fabric.
You gasped as your underwear scattered on the bed. Your cunt fluttered around nothing, suddenly exposed to the cool night air and Logan's unwavering gaze.
Your empathy startled him. Those who had gifted him their trust had often suffered, cursing him to an eternity of self-loathing. He felt undeserving of your kindness.
"Wanna make it up to you," he promised, moving your legs onto his shoulders.
The tantalizingly slow drag of his tongue against your folds made your thighs quiver against his head. He chuckled, prying your legs apart with his callused palms.
He gently lapped into your eager hole, moving his head up and down to increase his range of movement.
You mewled when the tip of his nose bumped against your clit.
"Oh, fuck. My girl's rosebud is so sensitive . . . " He groaned, lightly kissing your clit before sucking it into his eager mouth.
His right hand inched up your thigh, teasingly stroking the apex of your leg.
"How many fingers can you take, doll?" He slowly slid his middle finger inside, palm flushed against your sensitive folds. His lips were still stimulating your clit, now adding the delicious drag of his finger.
Your hips raised off the bed, eagerly meeting his thrusts. "Ah!" You whimpered after Logan pulled out before adding a second finger. He spread his digits, satisfying the hollow throb in your core.
"Three . . . I need three," you elaborated, biting your lip to stifle your needy moans.
His fingers slipped out of your cunt with an embarrassingly loud squelch before easing into your pliant mouth.
"Wanna hear you, baby. That's it," he cooed, making you enjoy the taste of your own slick.
Your tongue trailed the crook of his fingers, mimicking the patterns you traced on his cock last night.
You whimpered when Logan used your saliva to guide three fingers into your weeping pussy.
"Holy fuck, Logan . . . Mm," you babbled, eyes glazing over at the overwhelming feeling of his thick fingers stretching your walls.
If you could sit upright, you'd wipe that cocky grin off his face.
"You're so fuckin' wet for me, doll. Takin' me so well," he praised, focused on increasing the rhythm of his thrusts.
"Oh, I know you want my thick cock, baby . . . Is that why you chose three, hm?" Logan taunted, abruptly pausing his movements.
You whine, spreading your legs even farther apart to invite him back in.
"Yes, fuck-" you admitted, eyes screwing shut at the feeling of fingers returning home.
You felt Logan smirk into your clit as he confessed, "You think you can come without my cock? Tonight's all about you, doll."
The growing pressure in your abdomen threatened to burst, spurred on by Logan's filthy words. He enthusiastically lapped at your cunt, collecting the wetness that pooled near the base of his fingers and gliding up your folds before licking your clit.
He lightly slapped your pearl, motivated to usher in your release as you clamped your knees around his head.
"Holy shit, doll . . . your pussy's singing just for me, hm?" He hummed, referencing the vulgar sounds emanating from your folds with every thrust.
He expertly twisted his wrist as his fingers glided through your cunt. The new movement stimulated the sensitive nerves of your walls, earning a guttural moan.
"Oh my god, I'm . . . I'm coming," you whined, throwing your head back against the mattress.
Logan intertwined his left hand with yours, silently permitting you to squeeze it through your orgasm.
Your back arched, overstimulated by Logan's relentless attention to your pussy. You were too busy rocking your hips against his mouth to register him burrowing his cock into the sheets, a ragged growl escaping his lips as he spurted into his slacks.
"It's too- fuck, too much, Logan . . . " You stuttered, pawing at his forehead to distance yourself from his tongue.
You raised yourself on your elbows just in time to witness him savoring the taste of your cum, his tongue darting against the sensitive pads of his fingers and swallowing with a content moan.
"Mhm . . ." He drawled. "Sweeter than sugar, baby."
You covered your eyes and slumped against the mattress. Logan made you feel hopelessly giddy, and you loved it.
"Stop it, Logan . . . " You cringed, aware of the rosy blush that adorned your cheeks.
He scooped your knees with his right hand and supported your back with his left, mirroring the stance he assumed when he first laid you on the bed. You nuzzled your cheek against the soft pillow, thoroughly satisfied and exhausted.
The small twin-sized bed couldn't support the full breadth of his back, so he turned on his side, lovingly bumping his nose against yours.
You lazily stroked his graying beard, noticing that the whiskers closest to his mouth were damp with your arousal.
You blushed. Again.
"I usually don't even let guys kiss me on the first date. You should be grateful," You teased.
Logan lightly kissed your wandering fingers. "Trust me, princess, I am. Thank you.
Princess . . . that was new. You draped your left leg over the strong muscle of his thigh, suddenly needing to be consumed by his warmth.
He just coaxed an explosive orgasm from you using his mouth, and he was thanking you?
Words failed you. You decided to snuggle closer into the inviting expanse of his bare chest. Logan shamelessly gripped the supple flesh of your ass, pulling you flush against his body.
"I think our first date went well, hm?" He cooed into your ear. Your breathing slowed to the point where Logan assumed you had dozed off.
You felt his body still to avoid waking you up. He whispered, "I hope we get to go on a million more."
Your ears perked up at his covert promise of devotion.
I hope so, too, you thought before finally falling asleep.
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Thanks for sticking around for Ch. 2 of Meet-Cute!
Their banter was so fun to write. Also if you don't go to shows (I'm talkin' small clubs, not stadiums) or make art shhhh wdym, you're literally reader?! Anyway, I specified those hobbies because everyone can do them, yay! The FBI-level questioning that usually occurs on first dates was shortened to keep this a true reader insert (my reasoning for reader's vague background.) *The jukebox bit is canon, from Wolverine Vol. 1 (Benjamin Percy.)
Tag list: @th3mrskory @fairiebabey @bratscave @elflutter
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fandomxo00 · 12 days
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Ok but imagine:
Logan is the driver for your best friends bachelorette party
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no actual smut
...
Logan thought you were a pretty thing from the second he laid eyes on you.
You didn't wear dresses like the rest of the girls, you were a black jumpsuit, the neckline dipping down, the legs flowy and the lace of your bra made patterns in the romper's fabric.
Everyone seemed so excited, rowdy, and impulsive. You were quiet and slightly secluded from the pack, as your eyes drifted to the floor. His eyes kept darting to you in the back, his mind going to sitting on his lap, your legs around his thighs as you sunk your hot core against his thigh.
If he ever got his hands on you, he would ruin you.
You wound up sitting in the front with Logan when you got overstimulated in the back. He'd grunted out a rough, "yeah". Stopping at the nearest gas station so you could hop into the front of the car. Your eyes connected with his and he could hear your heart pick up a bit. His eyes moved from your face, down to your chest and running down your body. Logan cleared his throat as he realized how creepy he must've seemed, but that's when he smelt your arousal, something that overcame his senses. Imagining himself burying his face between your thighs.
You thought he was handsome from the second he picked your group up, opening the door to the back of limo. Your eyes connecting with his as your tongue came out to lightly wet your lips before ducking into the car. Logan had a full beard on his face, patches of white in the dark brown facial hair. His hair was a sandy brown color with a hint of gray. His face had lots of different lines, making him seem so rugged, especially with the scars across his face, just little ones here and there. Then a scar that you imagined being a large gash.
You didn't have time to look into his eyes, but when you got into the car the sunset had made sunlight beam into the windshield of his car. Making his eyes seem like depths of gold with flecks of a coppery erosion color. He rolled the window to the back shut as the two of you sat in dead silence.
The two of you just sharing passing glances, when he'd look over at you, you'd find his eyes and vice versa. But the two of you sat in comfortable silence before getting to the bar. You hadn't done anything this time but when you got back into the front you were inebriated to say the least. You hadn't ever drunk as much as you drank tonight, shooting back each and every shot given to you.
You had gotten awfully close to him, resting your head against his shoulder. You'd like to say you weren't aware of you what you were doing. But you were very much aware of his strong bicep that you were resting your head against. Or when your knee bumped into the side of his thigh and stayed there.
You wanted this old man to fuck you, and you had wanted it before you got to the bar, but you wouldn't have ever tried anything with an older man. Your best friend's fiancé had paid Logan to take each of you back to your respective houses, as you rested your eyes, (or rather waited for everyone to get dropped off) then you decided that you'd be the last as you never budged when he tried to wake you. Just groaning and batting at his hand, or even moving closer to him.
"Sweetheart, where do you live?" Logan asked, his voice low as you blinked your eyes open, a small smile on your face. You told him where you lived, and he started towards your apartment. You moved your head back to his shoulder and this time his arm moved out around you, pulling you into his strong side. He smelt like some musky woodsy cologne and hearing his heartbeat in his chest.
Though by the time you did get to your apartment, you wound up actually falling asleep against his warm chest. He parked his limo on the street before coaxing you out of the front seat and scooping you up his arms. You mumbled out your apartment number as he spoke softly into your ear, his beard rubbing against the lobe of your ear.
Logan finds a sense of anger when he thinks about how irresponsible you were tonight. Or even your best friend, not knowing who he even was. She let you him to you home while you completely drunk. You were naive to think that he wasn't some scumbag, but lucky that he'd never take advantage of anyone like that.
He had gotten you into your home, and you let him set you down on the couch. "You're milking this aren't you" He murmured into your ear, as you turned your head with a tired smile on your lips, as your eyes fluttered open. Your eyes were dark and sexy as your finger moved up to collar of his undershirt then sliding to his tie to pull him closer.
"Want you to fuck me." You breathed, your eyes adjusting as you looked up into his eyes.
"Don't know what you're asking for, hon" Your nose rubbed against his cheek as you whined softly, your hand coming to his and putting it on your waist.
"Not even that drunk, Logan."
"You remembered my name?"
"Yeah." You nodded, frowning slightly at him, as you looked up into his now dark eyes, your other hand going to the "Do you want me?"
"That's not the issue. Why don't you go take a shower and lay-."
"Only if you're here after." You argued, mischief in your eyes as you kept him close, your lips connecting with the side of his jaw.
"Y/n..." Logan almost growled, his voice so deep, as forehead leant against yours, his nose rubbing back against yours.
"Tell me you'll stay." You whispered, as his eyes shut as your hand on his chest comes to his beard, running your fingers against his face to feel his jaw clench.
"I'll stay sweetheart."
Note: I definitely want to do more old man! Logan fics just don't have any ideas for him, but he's so fucking rugged and sexy....grrrrrr
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mixedandfurious · 14 days
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Logan Howlett (Wolverine) SFW Alphabet
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader
Warnings: None
A/N: You guys voted so I made sure to deliver😉 I hope you enjoy some fluffy Logan content😊
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A - Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Logan may not come off as affectionate and soft to others but he sure as hell makes up for it with you. This man will make sure he covers all five love languages when it comes to his girl because you’re one of the only people who truly gets to see his vulnerable and loving side. Words of affirmation? This man will literally tell you how beautiful, strong and intelligent you are whenever he gets the chance. In his eyes you’re the epitome of elegance and you are no less than an angel. Gift Giving? You are constantly surprised with little trinkets that he comes across that remind him of you. One time he bought matching bracelets for the both of you so that you have a piece of one another wherever you go. He may not splurge like crazy for his partner but he’ll make sure each gift means something special. Acts of service? If anyone else were to ask Logan to make them a cup of coffee he’d scoff and say “make it yourself bub”. But when it comes to you, he’ll have a fresh cup of your favourite coffee waiting for you before you can even think of making one for yourself. As a matter of fact, he’ll go as far as stocking up on your favourite coffee beans before you even notice that your old batch is almost done. This doesn’t just apply to coffee though. Your man will literally stop you in your tracks when he notices that your shoe is untied, crouch down and place your foot on his thigh, and retie the lace before you even get to notice that it was untied in the first place. Yup, he’s just that observant and considerate. Physical touch? This man is all over you! He tends to avoid hugs and other forms of physical affection from other people but with you, he finds every opportunity possible to take you in his arms. He’s not big on extreme PDA (unless he’s jealous) but he’ll make it a point to touch you in one way or another. Whether that’s an arm around your shoulders, holding your hand, rubbing your shoulder or even playing with your hair, Logan uses physical touch as a form of self assurance that you’re safe and present with him. And finally, quality time. Between missions and teaching, Logan can find himself quite occupied majority of the time. But he always finds time to be present for his girl whenever possible. This can include going on late night walks where you both share your deepest thoughts and experiences. It also involves a lot spontaneous bike rides to God knows where. Just know that you’ll always be safe and protected with Logan by your side.
B - Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend?)
Logan is such a considerate person when it comes to those he loves and cares about. As your best friend he’ll make sure you always have a shoulder to cry on and will be a listening ear if you are in need of one. He comes off as a little grumpy and standoffish when you offer to be there for him during his difficult times but he eventually caves and confides in you. He is also extremely protective and will kick ass if someone even thinks of putting you in harms way. And if someone says something mean about you he’ll scare the shit out of them and defend you all the way. Logan doesn’t let people into his life easily so just know that you’re very special to hold the title of his best friend.
C - Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
This man is like a teddy bear when it comes to cuddling. He’s so warm and his huge frame engulfs you every time he wraps his arms around you. Nothing relaxes him more than holding you and cradling you into his chest during bedtime or during a movie. He also loves when you hold him. Life isn’t easy as the Wolverine so he cherishes those little moments when he can let his guard down and succumb to your embrace and soothing affirmations. You mean the world to him and cuddling is one of the best ways for him to feel close to you.
D - Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Prior to you entering his life, Logan didn’t really allow himself the luxury of imagining a life where he would settle down and start a family. That changed very quickly when you came along and brought him a level of peace and security that he didn’t know was possible for him to experience. He finally has someone to fight for and so he’ll dedicate his entire being to you. If you want to get married he’ll propose to you within a few years. You’ll have a beautiful home in a quiet neighbourhood and will live your days with him loving you in every way possible. If you want children he’ll be the best father ever (although he’ll be a little worried if he’ll be able to do a good job). Regardless, Logan is open to anything as long as you’re with him.
He’s a decent cook but he definitely prefers to do the cleaning instead. It works out perfectly because you both split up your mundane tasks so that there is a natural order to things.
E - Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
He isn’t the type to break up with you over something petty or superficial. The likely scenario would be that his presence in your life is putting you in danger so he resorts to being upfront and calling things off with you. He doesn’t play games so he uses honesty to present his reasonings. Now will he regret leaving you? Definitely. But it takes time for him to realize that it’s safer for him to be with you instead of without you. So try to reassure him and remind him that his presence matters to you.
F - Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
I’ll say it again, Logan will marry you if that’s what you want. He’s pretty indifferent to claiming your relationship on paper because in his mind, you don’t need a paper to prove your commitment and love to one another. You’re the one for him and he’s the one for you, PERIOD! That said, if you’ve mentioned that marriage is something you look forward to then your man will make sure to propose to you like the Queen you are. He’ll probably pop the question in about two years into your relationship and will make the occasion as intimate as possible. You can expect something along the lines of a candlelit pathway to the beach or in a beautiful opening in the forest. He may shed a few tears as he speaks his prepared speech and will slow dance with you in his arms when you say yes🥹 This man will forever try his best to treat you like every woman wants with her soulmate. He loves YOU and you’ll never need to question his love for you.
G - Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
He is so gentle with you! One of the main reasons is because he is well aware of how strong he is and how easily you could get hurt around him. But despite all of that, you’re the one person Logan will be soft with. You’re the love of his life and his support system so you will always be treated with respect and tenderness. He rarely raises his voice at you because he firmly believes that everything can be solved with a civil conversation. If he gets too heated then you both will spend some time away to cool off before reconvening and working through your differences. In his daily life he’s constantly using violence and anger to make his point but with you, he knows that you deserve his patience.
Now that doesn’t mean you guys won’t play fight or that he won’t corner you and attack you with tight hugs and kisses🤭 But know that it’s all fun and games with him. He could never hurt his favourite person.
H - Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Oh my days his hugs are so protective and warm! You could never feel unsafe when you’re in his arms and Logan makes it a point to hug you as much as he can. He loves holding you close to him and you love to hear his steady heartbeat when you’re against his chest. He also loves to sneak up behind you and give you hugs from behind when you’re busy doing some work. He’ll slowly sway you from side to side as he nuzzles into your neck and takes in your comforting scent. He would also love it if you run and jump into his arms when he walks through the door after a long day. It makes him feel wanted and it warms his heart to know that you eagerly await his return.
I - I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
He knows pretty much immediately that he loves you. He could tell right away that you were going to be a significant addition in his life and he was proven right as he got to know you. He takes a bit of time to tell you that he loves you though because he understands the severity of those words. He doesn’t just go around throwing that term everywhere so he looks for the right opportunity to profess his love and commitment to you.
J - Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Oh girl your man is JEALOUS! Well I suppose protective is a more appropriate term but you get the point. He trusts you more than anything and doesn’t doubt your love and loyalty but he’s still a man with a beautiful and desired woman. He knows how lucky anyone would be to have you so he can act a little clingy (an arm around your waist with a scowl on his face when someone stares too long) when you’re out with him. He doesn’t control where you go or what you wear but he’ll leave a few visible marks if you’re going out without him in a scandalous outfit🫣
K - Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Be prepared for a ton of forehead kisses and kisses at the top of your head (especially since he’s most likely towering over you). These kisses send a message that he’s always going to protect you and that he’s happy to have you near him. He also loves to leave wet kisses along your neck so that he could listen to your pulse and take in your scent.
He’s such a softie when you kiss his knuckles because of his complicated relationship with his claws. But when you show such tenderness towards them he has no choice but to melt and try to view his claws in a more positive light.
L - Little ones (How are they around children?)
Logan is a little hesitant around children so he typically allows them to approach him first. His reasoning is that he doesn’t want to scare them or accidentally hurt them. But if they approach him with curiosity or want him to play then he’ll grow a little more comfortable and indulge in their games.
Now if you both end up having children of your own, Logan will be the most protective and tender father. As tough as he is, you can already see him shedding a tear or two when it’s time for mandatory vaccinations for your babies. If you two had a daughter then Logan would teach her everything necessary to protect herself. He would also sing to her and teach her how to do anything hands-on so she will never need to rely on a man. If you two had a son then Logan would teach him everything he knows so he’ll grow up to be a gentleman and an independent man. He’ll also teach his son that it’s okay to be vulnerable around the right people and that he’s supported no matter what he chooses to do in life.
M - Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
If Logan gets up before you do then he’ll spend a few quiet moments admiring you and giving you a few gentle kisses on your forehead. He’ll then get up and get started on breakfast before you wake up. If he has to leave early for work then he’ll leave a little note for you saying that he loves you and to call him when you wake up.
If it’s a free day for the both of you then you can expect to stay cuddling him for a few hours after you’ve both woken up. You guys may engage in quiet conversations as the morning progresses and you’ll cook breakfast together as you decide what to do for the rest of the day.
N - Night (How are nights spent with them?)
It can be a little difficult for Logan to fall asleep but you’ve discovered that having a routine helps him sleep faster. You might get him to follow a simple nightly skincare routine so he washes away the day’s stress and grime. Maybe you’ll read to him for 30 minutes so he falls asleep listening to your voice, or maybe he’ll simply hold you until sleep calls his name. If he wakes up from a nightmare you’ll be there to calm him down. On nights like these you’ll coax him to drink some cold water and you’ll wipe away his sweat. He’ll apologize for imposing on your sleep but you’ll shush him gently and mutter sweet nothings to him as he snuggles into you and slowly falls back asleep.
O - Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
He’s a tough cookie to crack so it definitely takes some time before he tells you everything about his past. But he does reveal small things about himself overtime and eventually he feels ready to speak on his demons. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you (quite the opposite actually). Rather he’s afraid that you’ll leave once you learn how dark his life really is. But he realizes that he prefers to let you in on things so he takes a chance and bares his soul to you. You never once judge him and he loves you more for that.
P - Patience (How easily angered are they?)
As expected he’s a pretty short-tempered individual. He loses his cool pretty quickly and if anything he’ll find himself frustrated over minor things. But he hardly ever loses his cool towards you. He knows how destructive he can be when he’s angry so he tends to isolate himself for a while until he cools off. He never wants to hurt you with his words so he has a lot of self control around you. Now if anything happens to threaten your safety then he’ll lose his shit and make whoever hurt you pay.
Q - Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
This man remembers the littlest things about you. Whether it’s that random story you told him about an incident that happened in your childhood, or if you prefer pineapples on your pizza rather than mushrooms…he’ll take a mental note of everything. Basically he has a doctorate in everything pertaining to you, so you’ll never feel neglected or taken for granted with him.
R - Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?
His favourite moment is noticing that your eyes light up whenever you see him. You could be having a bad day or even be angry at him but somehow your eyes will still soften when he’s around you. It astonishes him that someone as amazing as you would want him around. But it warms his heart to know that someone looks forward to his presence everyday.
S - Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
He is very protective of those he loves so you can expect a lot of measures put into place to ensure your safety. He’ll make sure that your windows are bulletproof and that your front door can be double locked. He’s not toxic in his protectiveness but he does know that the world can be a scary place for a woman. He takes his job as your protector very seriously and will never take your safety lightly. But on another note, he’s also very protective of your feelings. If you seem worried he’ll always have a gentle conversation with you so you feel comfortable enough to share your troubles with him. He’ll try to give you the best advice he can and if nothing can be done then he’ll simply hold you so you never feel alone.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Logan isn’t a man of huge gestures but he’ll always do little things to show you he cares. He’ll bring you flowers whenever he sees a bouquet that reminds him of you. He’ll stock up on your favourite coffee or go buy a new face cream because he knows you’re running out. He takes turns cooking and cleaning with you and ensures you never have to do any heavy lifting around the house (with those muscles he better put them to good use🤣).
Of course when it’s a special day like your birthday or anniversary then he’ll clear out his schedule to spend the entire day with you. He’ll pamper you (eg. pay for your nails, give you a massage) and will take you out to a nice restaurant. On any regular day he’ll take you for spontaneous rides on his bike where you’ll ride around for hours on end. Sometimes you’ll go stargazing together or you’ll go for a walk on the beach.
U - Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
You have no issue with him smoking but you draw the line when he lights one up in the house. The smell lingers in the fabric of the sofas and it really messes up the sweet aroma that you create with your candles. You’ve told Logan very early on that you’d prefer if he smokes outside and he respects that. But sometimes he gets stressed and it’s second nature for him to light a cigar in the middle of the living room. You don’t yell at him when you realize what he’s doing but you grab his hand and walk outside to the backyard with him, where you let him finish his cigar and sit with him in silence. When you go back inside Logan gives you an apologetic kiss and lights some more candles plus opens the windows to let out the smell.
V - Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
He’s very particular about how his hair is styled so he takes time taming it every morning (now if it gets messy because you run your fingers through it or play with it then he doesn’t mind at all🤭). He has a few staple pieces in his closet (such as his flannels, white tanks, jeans, boots, leather jacket). His hygiene game is on point but he loves to tease you by forcefully hugging you when he’s sweaty🤣
W - Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Logan has been a lone wolf for most of his life but somehow your presence is all he craves. He’s never been one for cheesy sentiments but he truly does feel like you complete him in more ways than one. You bring a level of adventure, curiosity and peace that he never imagined he could have. You make him feel secure in himself and somehow your relationship is the healthiest bond he’s ever experienced.
X - Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
Logan’s favourite holiday to celebrate with you is halloween. He loves how bizarre everything is about this particular holiday and how lively the neighbourhood gets when it hits October. He loves when trick or treaters come around to your house because he likes to scare them with his claws.
He also loves how passionate you are about decorating the house and doing fun halloween activities with him. You get a kick out of making Logan carve pumpkins with his claws to which he laughs and creates silly designs. He also loves when you insist on watching scary movies with him but then hide your face in his chest when you get scared. He feels a sense of pride knowing your immediate response is to turn to him to protect you.
Y - Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
He wouldn’t like a partner who is unnecessarily judgemental and inconsiderate.
There’s a lot of things he doesn’t like about other people anyways so it’s just best for others to stay out of his way.
Z - Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
He talks in his sleep sometimes (usually because he’s having a strange dream). During the early days of your relationship you’d wake up confused because you’d assume he’s talking to you. But you quickly realized that he has a habit of talking in his sleep. Now if he’s just saying a bunch of random words you’ll fall back asleep but if he’s sounding distressed you’ll gently wake him up before a nightmare starts.
He also needs to be touching you in some way when he sleeps. His face will rest in your neck or chest, and his arms would be wrapped securely around your waist while his legs will intertwine with yours.
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reidsworld · 1 month
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The Time We Have
Summary: Logan struggles with the fear of dying and leaving Laura alone, but meeting you helps him find peace. Set in an AU where Logan does not die at the end of Logan (2017).
Paring: Logan Howlett x Fem!Mutant!Reader
Category: Angst, Fluff
Content Warnings: Talks of death.
Word Count: 1.4k
Mars speaks… gif is from pinterest!
Masterlist
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Logan’s knuckles ache, the bones beneath his skin creaking with every movement as if they’re finally giving in to the wear of time. It’s a pain that never quite leaves him anymore, a constant reminder that his body is failing him, betraying him in ways he never thought possible. He’s lived more lifetimes than most, fought more battles than he can count, and somehow, it’s this—this slow, inevitable decay—that feels like the cruelest blow of all.
He’s not afraid of dying. That’s never been something that scared him. He’s seen it too many times, come too close to it on too many occasions, to feel anything other than a resigned acceptance when he thinks about the end. But this… this slow, agonising decline is something different. It’s not the swift, clean death he always imagined for himself, the kind that comes in battle, in the heat of the moment. No, this is something that eats away at him bit by bit, until there’s nothing left but a shadow of the man he used to be.
And that scares him. Not the dying part—he’s made his peace with that—but the idea of leaving Laura alone in a world that’s anything but kind. He’s fought so hard to keep her safe, to give her a chance at a life he never thought he’d have to walk away from before it was time. The thought of her being alone, without anyone to protect her, has kept him up more nights than he can count.
He doesn’t talk about it. He’s never been one to share what’s on his mind, to let anyone see the cracks beneath the surface. But it’s there, every time he looks in the mirror and sees the new lines on his face, every time his claws take just a little longer to come out, every time he feels the weight of exhaustion settle into his bones.
It’s a bitter realisation, knowing that his time is running out. He doesn’t know how to feel about it, doesn’t know what to do with the knowledge that he’s slowly dying and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. The adamantium that made him unbreakable is now his undoing, poisoning him from the inside out. And there’s no one left to save him, no one who can stop the inevitable.
He’s spent his life fighting, surviving against impossible odds, but this is a battle he knows he can’t win. It’s a fight he’s destined to lose, and it’s not something he’s ever been good at accepting.
And then, he met you.
You came into his life like a breath of fresh air, a light in the darkness that had consumed him for so long. He didn’t want to let you in at first, didn’t want to admit that you could make any kind of difference in the mess that his life had become. But you were persistent, stubborn in that way he’s come to admire, and somehow, without him even realizing it, you slipped past all the walls he’d built up around himself.
You weren’t like anyone he’d ever met. A mutant, yes, but your powers weren’t about brute strength or regeneration. Instead, you had the ability to manipulate energy, to create barriers and shields that could protect those around you. It was a power that reflected who you were—a protector, a guardian. And it was exactly what he and Laura needed. Before he knew it, he found himself drawn to you in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time.
It was Laura who first noticed the change in him, the way he seemed lighter somehow, less burdened by the weight of the world. She’d always been perceptive, too smart for her own good, and she didn’t hesitate to call him out on it.
“You’re different,” she said one day, her eyes narrowing as she watched him. “You’re… happier.”
Logan had grunted in response, not wanting to admit that she was right. He wasn’t used to being happy, wasn’t used to feeling anything other than anger or pain. But with you, it was different. You didn’t change his purpose; you just made the burden lighter, made it easier to carry on knowing you were by his side.
But you didn’t push him. You let him come to terms with it on his own, never demanding more than he was willing to give. You were patient, understanding in a way that made him feel like he could finally breathe, like he didn’t have to be on guard all the time.
And slowly, without even realising it, Logan found himself accepting the inevitable. He was dying—there was no denying that. But for the first time, it didn’t feel like a death sentence. It felt like… closure. Like maybe he could finally find peace, knowing that he wasn’t leaving Laura alone, that you’d be there, that you’d spend the rest of your life with him.
One night, as you lay curled up against him on the couch, your head resting on his chest, he found himself speaking the words that had been weighing on his mind for so long.
“I’m not gonna be around forever,” he said quietly, his voice rough with the weight of the truth. “I’m dying, and there’s nothin’ I can do to stop it.”
You didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. Instead, you lifted your head to look at him, your eyes full of understanding and love. “I know,” you said softly, your voice steady. “But you’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”
He let out a slow breath, the tension in his chest easing just a little. “I’m scared,” he admitted, the words coming out before he could stop them. “I’m not used to this… to not knowin’ what’s gonna happen. To not bein’ able to fight back.”
Your hand moved to cup his cheek, your touch gentle and reassuring. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, Logan,” you said, your voice full of warmth. “It’s okay to be scared. But you’re not alone in this. Laura and I… we’re here for you, for as long as you need us.”
He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat making it difficult to speak. “I don’t know how much time I have left,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But whatever time I do have… I’m glad I get to spend it with you.”
You smiled, a soft, loving smile that made his heart ache with something he couldn’t quite name. “Me too,” you said simply, as if there was no question, no doubt in your mind.
And in that moment, Logan felt something shift inside him. The fear, the uncertainty that had been gnawing at him for so long, began to fade. It didn’t disappear completely—he knew it never would—but it didn’t seem as overwhelming anymore. Because he wasn’t alone. He had you, and he had Laura. And that was enough.
He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as if he could hold on to this moment forever. You settled against him, your body fitting perfectly against his, and he pressed a kiss to your hair, breathing in the scent of you—something that had become so familiar, so comforting.
And then he thought about Laura, about the future he’d once feared she’d face alone. But now… now he had hope. You were by his side, and together, you could give Laura the life she deserved. She’d have you to guide her, to be there when he was gone. And maybe, just maybe, she’d have a sibling to watch over her when both of you were long gone.
For the first time in a long time, Logan felt like he could finally accept what was happening to him. He was dying—there was no escaping that. But it didn’t feel like the end. It felt like… a beginning. A chance to live the life he’d never thought he’d have, with you by his side.
And when the time came, when the poison inside him finally took its toll, he knew he wouldn’t be alone. He’d have you, and he’d have Laura. And that was more than he’d ever hoped for.
So, he closed his eyes, letting the warmth of your presence wash over him, and for the first time in his long, tumultuous life, Logan felt at peace.
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Mars speaks… (again) Thank you for reading, any and all feedback is always appreciated🫶
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joshfutturman · 3 months
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go ahead and tell me he isn't extra fine in s3. go on. tell me.
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