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#logan x shy reader
mariclerc · 4 months
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Three hearts, one bed | cl16 & ls2
Summary: after the race, both you and your boys are very tired from all the action.
Warning: none, just fluff, shy reader.
a/n: dedicated to @bananaleclerc love u girl <3
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The plush hotel suite is bathed in the warm glow of bedside lamps, Charles and Logan are sprawl on the king-sized bed, both clad in soft white and black sweatpants. Charles, with his dark hair damp and a faint sheen of sweat, looks exhausted but content. Logan, his blonde hair tousled, leans against the headboard, a playful glint in his eyes. You are accompanying them to one of the night races in Singapore, which is usually one of the hottest on the calendar. You love to accompany them whenever you have time, you are their biggest fan and, well, it's your job as their girlfriend.
They both watch you as you stand by the window, gazing out at the glittering cityscape. For them you look absolutely breathtaking in a simple silk sleep dress, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow on your face. However, a self-conscious blush creeps up your neck as you feel their stares.
“Hey there, lovely! Are you enjoying the view?” Logan says while grinning.
You turn, a shy smile gracing your lips. “Yeah, it's beautiful.” you say softly.
Charles reach out a hand towards you. “Come join us, amore. You must be tired too.” (love) Hesitantly, you approach the bed. Charles pats the spot beside him, his voice gentle. “There's plenty of room for the three of us.”
You climb in, scooting between them. Charles immediately wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. You snuggle into his side, inhaling the comforting scent of his shampoo. Logan leans his head back, propping it on a hand, his gaze roaming over your face.
“You know, you don't have to be shy with us, y/n, we adore you completely... even the quiet moments.” Logan says.
“Logan's right chérie. You're perfect just the way you are.” Charles says with a shy smile. (darling)
You blush again, but this time, a warmth spreads through you. You steal a glance at Logan, then back at Charles.
“Thanks, guys, you don't know how much that means.” you mumble.
Logan let out a chuckle. “Oh, we know pretty girl. We see the way you look at us, the way you light up when we're around.”
He winks, and you can't help but giggle. Charles nuzzles your neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
“Come on, let's get some rest. You must be beat after all that traveling and cheering on us during the race.” Charles says smiling.
“Yeah, I am a little tired.” you say drowsily.
“Don't worry, beautiful. We'll take good care of you.”
Charles winks again, and you snuggle deeper between them, feeling a sense of belonging and love wash over you. The exhaustion of the day melts away, replaced by a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sound of your breathing. Charles and Logan exchange a satisfied look over your head, both knowing they wouldn't trade this moment for anything.
Your eyelids flutter shut, lulled by the warmth of Charles' embrace and the gentle rhythm of Logan's breathing beside you. A content sigh escapes your lips as sleep begins to claim your body.
Charles notices your peaceful slumber and brushes a stray hair from your face with his thumb. He leans in and whispers softly in your ear.
“Dors bien, mon ange.” he whispered. (Sleep well, my angel.)
“Bonne nuit, Charles.” you mumble (Good night, Charles.)
Logan, watching the exchange unfold, can't help but smile. He extends a hand and gently strokes your other cheek with his thumb.
“Sweet dreams, baby. We'll be right here when you wake up.” he whispers too.
“Love you both.” you say sleepily.
A contented sigh escapes your lips once more, and you drifts off to sleep. Charles and Logan share a look, the silence filled with unspoken understanding and affection.
“She's incredible, isn't she?” Charles whispers.
Logan nod at the monegasque whisper. “The most incredible girl... We're lucky to have her.”
A comfortable silence descends upon the room once more. However, this time, it's punctuated by the soft sound of a chuckle from Logan.
“You know, Charles, I was thinking... that room service menu looked pretty tempting.”
Charles raise an eyebrow. ”Oh? What did you have in mind?”
“Something to keep our energy up for tomorrow morning. Maybe some champagne and a little... dessert?” Logan wink at Charles.
Charles smirks, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
“Sounds like a plan, mon petit prince... Just make sure to keep it quiet, wouldn't want to wake our sleeping beauty.” (my little prince)
Logan smiles widely. “Leave that to me. We wouldn't want to startle the love of our lives.”
They both lean down, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead before turning towards each other, a playful glint in their eyes.
The room falls silent once more, punctuated only by the gentle rhythm of your breathing. Charles watches your chest rise and fall, a wave of tenderness washing over him. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment.
A soft sigh escapes Logan's lips, and Charles turns to see his boyfriend looking at him with a sleepy smile.
“We're so damn lucky to have her with us Charlie.”
Charles nods and blushes at the nickname. “Oh yeah, absolutely.”
There's a comfortable silence between them, a silent conversation filled with shared love and appreciation for you. It lingers for a moment before Logan reaches out, his fingers brushing against Charles' cheek.
“You know? A little sleep might be nice after all that racing... Care to join me... mon coeur?” Logan says. (My heart?)
Charles' eyes soften, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Bien sûr, mon ange.” (Of course, my angel.)
They both lean in, their lips meeting in a soft, warm, lingering kiss... It's a kiss filled with unspoken affection, a quiet promise for later, and the comfort of knowing they have each other.
As they pull apart, a pleasant drowsiness washes over them. Logan snuggles closer to Charles, his head resting on his chest, they are both blushing and flustered.
“Goodnight Charlie.” Logan says, snuggling close to you and Charles.
“Goodnight Lo, sweet dreams.” Charles says placing his arm over you and Logan.
Exhaustion finally claims them both, and their eyelids flutter shut. The room falls silent once more, this time with the peaceful rhythm of their combined breathing.
The moonlight casts a soft glow over the three of you, the slow breaths, the tangled limbs of the three of you, a picture of love and contentment.
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rqnarok · 8 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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bpmiranda · 1 month
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Not Sweet |l. howlett| nsfw
A/N: neighbor!logan x f!reader, jealous!logan, daddy kink, dom!logan, kind of inexperienced reader, reader is casually hooking up with a guy and logan knows he could do it better for her
Not Sweet II
It was quiet in the apartment building, his heightened sense of hearing sought out and focused intently on the sounds that he happily let keep him up past a reasonable hour. Her sweet moans and hitched gasps, his name choking in her throat as she got herself to that high. Logan grunted, stroking his cock languidly as he imagined what she might look like as she currently writhed and fisted her bedsheets. It was inappropriate for him to listen in on his sweet neighbor, but no one could really prove he was doing it.
Logan couldn’t help the smug smile on his face when they would run into each other in halls or in the stairwell. Her flustered expression and reddened cheeks making the blood rush to his cock as she stammered a polite greeting or a shy ‘thank you’ when he held the building doors open for her.
The only thing stopping him from going across the hall and suggesting she let him pleasure her properly was the boyfriend, or date, or whoever the cockblock was that had started coming by and taking her out. Adam, the name alone irked Logan more than he cared to admit because he knew there was no real reason for disliking him. Logan just didn’t like that he was in her apartment while he sat across the hall forced to listen to the mediocrity that was supposed to pass as sex.
Her moaning was louder when she was alone.
As Logan was leaving for work one morning, Y/N was walking Adam out into the hall in a silky, black robe. Logan pretended to have his key stuck in the door as he lingered, watching him peck her lips goodbye in the most passionless way he had ever seen. “Later, baby.” Adam said and Y/N waved at him with a small smile as she leaned against her doorframe. Adam gave Logan a nod who offered a fake smile.
Y/N noticed Logan standing across from her and she blushed. “Good morning.” She said shyly, raking a hand through her messy hair and blushing as she took in the sight of him in his work clothes. Sleeves hugged his large biceps, shirt tucked into his pants making it all too easy to notice the definition of his torso and abdomen.
“Mornin’,” Logan smirked, moistening his lips as he could more clearly smell her arousal the longer they stood this close together. “You look nice.” He added, leaning back against his apartment door to look at her shamelessly.
“Oh,” She blushed harder, looking at her robe that fell right above her knees and her bare feet, toes painted a light shade of pink. It was impossible to hold a conversation with him where he wasn’t completely catching her off guard with compliments and charming smiles. “Thanks.”
Logan gave her a small nod and his nostrils flared, her scent becoming too much to handle. “Later, baby.” He teased with a wink, making her bite her lip as she hid a grin and shook her head at him before going back into her apartment.
They had several interactions like that. They were good, friendly neighbors who could safely assume there was a mutual crush between them. Logan wasn’t the type to shy away from flirting with a pretty girl, and ever since she had moved in across the hall, Y/N was the prettiest girl he knew. Y/N was simply just too shy to make the first move with Logan, too polite to turn down Adam’s suggestion that she go on a date with him. It made Logan ache that he couldn’t have her, couldn’t seem to find the right moment to show her that he could be what she needed.
It was late at night and Logan was beginning to wonder if tonight was one of those nights where she decided to watch a movie rather than pleasure herself until he heard a knock at his door. After pulling on a pair of sweatpants to cover his cock, he sauntered to the door and opened it. Y/N was standing in front of him, arms crossed over her chest as she wore a nervous smile. “Hey, I’m so sorry to bother you,” She apologized, rubbing her arms from being in the cold hallway in a thin tank top. Her legs were covered by a pair of pink sweatpants, but she was still shivering. “The heat in my apartment has gone out. I really can’t wait until the morning. Could you help me out?”
After grabbing his tools and a tank top, he followed her into her apartment and was immediately overcome with the smell of her. The coffee she was always drinking, the bakery themed candles, the whole place made his mind go fuzzy with lust. Y/N showed him where the radiator was in the back room which seemed to have been turned into an exercise room. He could smell her in here too. Logan knelt down to inspect the apparatus and he hummed. “This packing nut is smooth on the inside now. It won’t hold.” He explained as he dug into his box for a proper one that would seal the leak. As he screwed the new packing nut into place, the radiator began to expel heat properly, the leak stopped, and he closed his toolbox before standing back up.
“Logan, thank you so much.” Y/N sighed, her hand pressed into her chest as she gave him a grateful smile. “Let me pay you.” She said quickly, leaving the room and making him follow her into the kitchen.
“Adam couldn’t come by?” He asked, not trying to pick on the kid, but it was second nature to him.
Y/N looked at him as she paused digging through her purse and she chuckled lightly as she shook her head. “He doesn’t know very much about fixing radiators, or anything of the sort.” She explained, walking over to him and handing him a wad of cash. “That’s all I’ve got on me right now.”
Logan pushed her hand away gently and shook his head. “Nah, don’t worry about it.” He told her and she frowned at him. He smiled at her and held her chin between his index and thumb, caressing her skin softly. “Can’t stand the thought of you bein’ cold and all alone over here.”
Y/N’s cheeks burned hotly and she tried to look away from him, unable to as he continued to hold her jaw in his hand. “Can I at least offer you a drink?”
It surprised him that she had whiskey at all. They were sitting on her couch, drinking and complaining about their shitty apartment building and jobs as the alcohol flowed freely. Y/N was blushing constantly, her body heated from being so close to him. Logan could practically taste her arousal the scent was so thick. “Why that guy?” He asked, throwing caution to the wind as he figured she was at a good number of drinks to not be upset if he asked.
“Oh, um,” Y/N wasn’t expecting that question. As far as she knew, Logan didn’t even acknowledge Adam’s existence. “I guess he’s nice, you know? He’s sweet to me.” She said, downing the last bit of her third shot of whiskey.
“You like ‘em sweet?” Logan asked curiously and she nodded with a shrug. “You don’t seem very sure.” He chuckled, drinking his last shot and setting the cup down on her coffee table.
“Well,” Her throat closed around the words, but he looked at her as if urging her to continue like he knew exactly what she was going to say. “I - I just haven’t been with a lot of guys.” She tried not to come off as if it was something she was embarrassed about. “And the few I have been with were sweet.”
Logan felt his mouth water, his chest swelling at the thought of her having little to no experience. “How many?” He asked, looking over her frame, which was much smaller than his own, and picturing the things he would teach her. Y/N blushed and shook her head as she covered her face. “C’mon,” He smirked, lightly tracing a hand up her shin to her knee. “Tell me.”
“Adam would be my second.” She mumbled, dropping her hands into her lap and looking at him.
“This year?” He asked to clarify and she shook her head. “Ever?” Her nod was all the confirmation he needed and he leaned back in his seat with a smug look that made her insides heat up. “Third time’s the charm, huh?”
Not long after, Logan had her pinned to her bedroom wall as he stood between her legs and held tightly onto her waist. His tank top had been discarded in the living room where she had helped him take it off as their kiss heated up. Her moans rolled off her tongue and into his mouth while her fingers laced and tugged on his hair, her hips bucking into the hard shaft pressing painfully into her core. Her top was ripped off suddenly, thrown aside as he pushed a knee underneath her to keep her suspended while his hands lifted her up so he could kiss her hips and belly. “Oh, Logan.” She moaned, desiring more of him than she had ever desired of anyone.
“Gonna show you how it should sound when you get fucked right.” He growled into her skin, making her tremble in his hold. “None of that sweet shit tonight, baby.” He told her, pulling her off the wall and throwing her down on the bed, quickly crawling back on her as if she would’ve taken the opportunity to get away. Y/N stayed where he wanted her, however, and let him do with her body as he pleased.
“Yes, please, take it.” She urged, lifting her hips as he tugged her pink sweats off. His smirk returned at the sight of her black thong and she blushed madly. “Shut up.”
Logan chuckled, kissing her legs softly, nipping at her inner thighs which made her whine. “I knew you wanted me.” He murmured, pulling her thong off and admiring her as he finally had her to himself. “You want me as bad as I want you, sugar?” He asked, his large hands smoothing along her waist and to the sides of her breasts. Y/N nodded desperately, her body arching into his touch. “Tell me.”
“I want you, Logan,” She breathed out as his thumb caressed her nipple and his other hand squeezed her hip harshly, her hands tugging on the drawstring of his sweatpants as she urged him to take them off. Logan discarded himself of his pants and tossed them, looking down at her as he breathed heavily. A lump formed in her throat when she felt his strength in the way he picked her up and repositioned her on her belly as if she weighed nothing. “Oh, fuck, please. I wanna feel you so bad.” Logan groaned and kissed along her spine down to her ass, biting the fat harshly, and making her whimper. He roughly lifted her on her knees while keeping a hand on her back to press her onto the bed. His nose buried in her, inhaling her arousal, and growling loudly into her womanhood before his tongue lapped at her glistening folds.
“This fucking pussy calls to me all damn day,” Logan moaned, his hands squeezing painfully on her hips and ass while he circled his tongue into her core, swallowing her juices as they coated his tongue. “Fuck, it tastes better than I imagined.”
His filthy words had her riled up, whining and mewling while she tugged desperately on the bedsheets as his mouth brought her down into the pits of a tortuous pleasure. He was relentless, mean with his smacks of her ass and the bite of his teeth. “Oh, fucking shit!” Y/N cried as he brought her to orgasm, her thighs trembling while he simply continued eating at her, holding her firmly against his face so she couldn’t squirm away from him.
“How’s that?” He asked as he flipped her onto her back, settling between her thighs as he slowly pumped himself. She was breathless and she nodded approvingly. “Better than that vibrator?” Her brows furrowed and he smiled, nuzzling his face into her neck as he said, “I hear everything, sweetheart. You’re so sweet when you moan, rubbing your little clit slowly and gently.” His thumb came down between her thighs to do just that. Her moans fell out in a melody and Logan groaned. “Fuck, yeah, like that. Keeps me up all damn night.”
“Didn’t think - uh - didn’t think I was that l-loud.” She stammered, her hands flat on his chest as he slipped two fingers into her pussy with a filthy squelching sound. “Oh!”
Logan chuckled softly. “You could be louder.”
His fingers and thumb continued rubbing and stroking her, his eyes fixed on the features of her face. The way her brows scrunched together from the overstimulation, the pleasure, the pain of his tight grip on her thigh to keep her legs open for him. Her delicate hands pushed at his thick torso in an attempt to move him away, get herself away from this pleasure that was quickly becoming too much to handle. “I-I can’t, Logan, please, make me cum!”
Obliged, he knelt down and sucked on her clit, fingers pumping faster and deeper until she was shaking again, high from the ecstasy of pleasure. Logan definitely didn’t fuck like the others, not even close, and it wasn’t even over yet. “Had enough?” He asked as he watched her body tremble in her sheets and noticed her half-lidded eyes looking at every inch of him. Logan flexed his chest teasingly and she bit her lip, shaking her head to his question. “Good, cause the best part’s coming.” He winked, hovering back over her and holding her thighs together so he could push them into her chest. Y/N cried softly as he ran the leaking tip of his cock along her puffy lips, teasing her until tears fell from the corners of her eyes. “That’s it, sweet girl, cry it out.” He groaned, the sight of her pouted lip turning him on all the more. “Let daddy do what he’s gotta do.”
His cock pushed into her, filling her quickly in one thrust which made her sob. “S-so big.” She whined, her hands resting on his strong thighs as he dragged his dick back out, slow so he could inspect that every inch was coated in her cream. “I can’t take it.”
“Looks like you can from here,” He taunted, pushing back in and hissing at the sight. “Fuck, it looks really good from right here.” Y/N’s vision blurred with hot tears as he kept a steady, slow, and brutual pace. The stretch stung and she could feel him deep in her, hitting spots that had yet to be discovered. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” He coaxed her, keeping her knees over his shoulder, his hand held onto her thighs and the other wrapped around her throat. His lips met hers in a kiss, soft and gentle unlike the rest of his actions as he was now rutting into her with an animal-like purpose.
“You’re in - sniff - really deep.” Y/N sobbed, her fingernails were digging into his thighs and he groaned in approval as he felt her legs start shaking violently - she was close again. “It’s too - ah - too much!”
“Is this my spot, sweetheart?” He asked, pressing firmly against her cervix which made her whine loudly, her hand weakly punching on his leg because she was so close. She nodded, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes and that pouty lip that just made him wanna force her to take more. Logan wanted to push her to her limits, maybe even a little further. “Yeah? Is this daddy’s spot?” He asked, his swollen tip pressing harder into her cervix.
“Yes-s, it’s yours!” She cried, unable to take the pain of the tension in her abdomen. Logan growled, the sound rumbling in his chest and she felt the vibration against the back of her thighs. “It’s your spot, daddy, p-please!”
“Wanna cum?” He asked, kissing her neck softly as she nodded, sucking on her sensitive skin as his hips continued in their rut, the contracting of her walls squeezing the hell out of his girth. “Cum, sugar, cum on my cock.” He encouraged, staying deep in her as he pounded harshyly into her and repeatedly slammed into her cervix. Y/N cried, sobbing as she felt that tension come undone, her orgasm gushing around his thick member and soaking her bed sheets - she had squirted for the first time in her life. “Goddamn!” Logan growled as that feeling made him unload his release in her without a second thought. He couldn’t think of the consequences when he was well aware of what he wanted; he wanted to fill her with his seed.
Y/N cried softly, her face buried in his chest as he let her legs go, resting between them still as he slowly pumped every last drop of him into her, throbbing in her as he waited for her to calm down. Logan kissed the top of her head, his arms caged around her head as he slowly rode out their highs. Her teary eyes met his and he looked concerned for a moment until she smiled weakly at him, her hands cupping his bearded cheeks as she pulled him down to her lips for a kiss. Logan sighed and kissed her while he sat up on his knees, his arms wrapped around her body to hold her close so she straddled him. She whined as she sunk onto him, his cum spilling out of her and down the sides of his shaft. “That wasn’t sweet?” She murmured playfully which made him laugh. His laugh shook her body as she was pressed closely to him.
“Careful, baby.’ He smirked as he laid her down gently and slipped out of her with a wet noise. She winced and he kissed her nose. “Don’t talk yourself into something you can’t handle.”
In the morning, Y/N was still dozed off on his chest while he laid contemplating their interaction, smiling to himself as he caressed her bare back slowly. A knock came from the living room and Logan carefully got up and pulled on his sweatpants before answering the door.
It was Adam.
“Oh,” Logan grinned, leaning an arm against the doorframe as he glanced behind him at her bedroom door. “Hey, bub, she might be too tired for this brunch date.” Adam stood dumbfounded, looking from Logan to the apartment door behind him which he was sure was where this guy lived. “I’ll let her know you stopped by, yeah?” Logan winked at the kid before he closed the door and rejoined her in the bedroom, finally on the right side of the door.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
I have so much stuff in my drafts🤭 ‘Adam’ is just a random name I pulled out of the air btw
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loonylupinblack3 · 2 months
Text
Go Slow
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader
Warnings: SMUT! p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), riding, (brief) dry humping
Summary: it's your first time and Logan tries to go slow, he really does, but some things just can't be helped
Word count: 1.6k
A/N: i'm not too practiced in smut so sorry if it's shit 😭
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Logan knew you were on the shy side of things. During the start of your relationship he’d had to coax words from you, feelings and opinions you held until you felt comfortable enough to share them without being asked. You’d be nervous and fidgety when asking to see him, acting like he was an attractive stranger when he was your boyfriend. 
In all honesty though Logan didn’t mind. He enjoyed your shy, almost naive personality, and was more than happy to wait for you to be comfortable with him before suggesting going any further. 
Sure, it was difficult for him to wait, but not impossible. If his pants tightened slightly when you walked in the room with ridiculously short shorts and practically sat in his lap with them, you didn’t notice. When you were sleeping in bed together and would unconsciously rub yourself against him, causing him to have to leave the bed for a bit lest he did something he'd regret, you remained blissfully unaware. And if he was putting away your laundry and came across a pair of lacy black panties with bows adorning it, you wouldn’t even notice they went missing.
Logan was more than okay to wait.
You, on the other hand, were not.
It started with small changes in you and your actions, though Logan couldn’t quite place his finger on what it was. You were more flustered around him than usual, jumpier and shier than you’d been before. You were quieter too, staring at him with more intensity than before, as if trying to read his mind. Yet it wasn’t as if you were pulling away from him, because you were much more touchy and clingy than usual, always needing to hold him and often being the initiator of any make out session you two might have- which is as far as you’d gone.
It was during one of these sessions, having started when you both grew bored of the movie playing on the screen, that you started straddling Logan, kissing him with more fevor than you usually did. Surprised, though certainly not disappointed, Logan kissed you back, hands resting on your thighs and occasionally running up and down them when his control slipped.
When he felt you rock against him slightly he knew something was up. You were never this forward with him, and was always the one to stop Logan when he got a bit carried away. Yet there you were, gently rocking against him while you kissed, moving against his jeans almost desperately, rubbing against him until there was a rock hard bulge for you to move against and Logan had to gently push you off him.
Immediately you started apologising, looking at your hands nervously fidgeting with your t-shirt, refusing to so much as glance at Logan.
“Hey, hey, you’re alright Bub,” Logan said gently. “I just don’t want to do anything before talking about it first.”
You risked a glance at him, trying to find any lie in his face. “You’re not angry at me?”
Logan would have laughed if he wasn’t worried about upsetting you further. “‘Course not. I fucking loved that, actually, but we can’t do it, or anything like that, without talking about it first. I gotta make sure you’re okay with it.”
You nodded your head with such eagerness Logan’s cock twitched in his pants. “I’m okay with it.”
He smiled at your needy demeanour and had to hold himself back from gladly going along with it. “What exactly do you want, Sweetheart? I gotta know that.”
You bit your lips shyly, glancing up at him from your lashes in such a way Logan was tempted to be fucked with all of this and just take you. He’d been waiting for months, however, so he could certainly wait a few more minutes, and restrained himself as such.
“I want to feel good,” you mumbled quietly. “Want you to make me feel good.”
Oh fuck.
Logan wasn’t sure he could handle this. Desire was coursing through his veins, his cock was throbbing almost painfully against his pants as he watched you, shy and naive but so wanting for him.
“Alright Bub, we can do that,” he eventually said, because fuck he wanted to make you feel good too. He wanted you moaning and whimpering his name, whining and panting underneath him because of him.
Yet as soon as he had you undressed and under him he could tell it wasn’t what you wanted. You looked petrified, eyes squeezed shut as you waited for Logan to enter you, and that just wouldn’t do.
“I’m not doing this Sweetheart,” he said, moving away.
You opened your eyes, seeming both relieved and disappointed at the same time. “What? Why?”
Logan sighed, wrapping you up in his arms and kissing your neck. Even with both of you naked it was surprisingly not desire filled and simply comforting. “Because you obviously don’t want it.”
You shook your head and turned around to face him, straddling him in a similar position as before. “I do want it. Just… it felt a bit scary like that.”
Logan thought about her words for a moment before inspiration struck him. “Do you want to ride me instead?”
You actually gasped, your eyes widening at the suggestion, yet he could also see the desire radiating off of you- he could smell it too- and feel the slick coming from your cunt at the thought. He smirked, taking that as a yes.
“I’m going to lift you up and slowly place you down on me. You can stop me at any moment, okay?” he asked you, wanting to make sure you were comfortable with this.
You nodded your head, looking apprehensive but also excited, as you glanced down at his hard on, licking your lips slightly. “I don’t know if it will fit.”
Logan nearly groaned then and there. “It will.”
Hesitant but sure, you let Logan’s hands wrap around your waist and lift you up, positioning his cock at your entrance. He gave you a few seconds to back out, and when you didn’t, staring at him confidently, Logan sunk you down on his cock.
Fuck even just his tip inside you felt like heaven, your cunt squeezing against him. You let out a gasp and he hesitated, waiting, and you slowly nodded your head, giving him the go ahead to continue. He did so gently, making you take him inch by inch, stopping every so often for you to get used to the feeling of him until you’d finally taken all of him inside you.
The feeling of your walls squeezing his cock was heavenly. He could barely think, and all he wanted to do was fuck you hard and fast, chase the release he so desperately wanted. Yet he waited for it to feel comfortable for you, waiting for the pain to ease before he did anything.
“Okay… what now?” you asked in a timid voice.
Logan had to muffle the sound threatening to escape him at the sight of you blinking bashfully at him while he was inside you. It was too good to be true.
“Now you move,” Logan said roughly, because he didn’t trust himself to move and not fuck you viciously like he wanted to.
You thought for a moment before giving an experimental rock, gasping at the pleasure accompanying the action. You repeated the rock again, then again, creating a slow but sure movement that was slowly killing Logan.
Every sway of your hips, the way you rode his cock eagerly if not skillfully, was pushing him closer and closer to the edge.
“That’s it baby,” he rasped. “Just like that, you’re doing so good for me baby.”
You rolled your hips, whining at the praise and closing your eyes but only increasing your motions, one hand moving up to cup your breast. You grounded onto him, gasping when he hit that perfect spot, whispering Logan’s name like a prayer
He swore at the sight, and couldn’t help the jerk his hips made, a small gasp escaping you. It felt so good, the spike of pleasure overwhelming and your readily response too much, and he did it again.
You moaned this time, a dirty, high pitched sound that was ringing in Logan’s ears, urging him on as he took your hips in his hand and lifted you up, only to slam you down on his cock again. Your moan was delicious, and you placed both your hands on his chest, moving forward to make him go deeper.
Logan did groan this time, and used your hips to continue moving you on his dick, his large hands squeezing the soft flesh of your hips. You were a whining mess, eyes glazed and body limp above him.
“Feel so good,” Logan grunted, thrusting into you. “So fucking good for me.”
You whimpered, gasping as your eyes fluttered closed again. Logan grinned.
“You like that baby? You like me telling you what a good girl you’re being, riding my cock so prettily.”
Your moans came more frequent, panting every second, and Logan could tell you were close. He increased his pace, wanting to see you fall apart in front of him, and wasn’t disappointed by the result.
“Come on baby, cum for me.”
With a cry you threw your head back, ecstasy painting your face as you came, your walls tightening. The feeling of them squeezing Logan’s dick, your cunt milking it for all its worth was too much and he felt himself fall after you, his load of cum shooting into your already stuffed hole.
“Fuck baby,” he cursed, helping you ride out both your highs, moving your hips over him.
You were still panting as you slowly came down from your high, boneless as you laid against Logan’s chest.
“You did so good for me darling,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head.
You let out a sound, nuzzling his neck, and he happily held you against him, pressing kisses to your face and neck till you were ready to move.
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murdrdocs · 1 month
Text
go about things the wrong way
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description. LOGAN HOWLETT proves himself to be a bit of a hypocrite
includes. SMUT 18+, age gap (reader is implied to be mid20s, logan assumed to be mid30s), protected piv, denial is a river in egypt logan fucks them younger, logan calls reader "kid", insomnia trope, slightly brat reader, remnants of angst, set during early x-men
wc. 5k
a/n: photo creds unknown. title from how soon is now? by the smiths
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You should be in your own bedroom. 
It’s a nice room, decorated better than your childhood room in your parent’s house, likely because you’ve grown since your mint green and chevron phase. It’s silent in your room, no other inhabitants except you and your pet fish that was somehow still hanging on. There’s no reason for you to leave your room, it has everything you need. But it’s not right. 
The loneliness is uncomfortable amidst your inability to sleep. It hovers over your bed, staring down at your shuffling frame as you try multiple positions, each one leaving you as restless as the last. You know that’s why you venture off to the kitchen, the search for companionship outweighing the desire for a treat. You just need to talk to someone, remind yourself that you aren’t all alone. There are other people like you, and you live with them. You’re safe. 
You ended up finding what you desired—a non-freezer burnt ice cream bar buried beneath frozen waffles, and a warm body to stand opposite of as you steadily made your way through it. 
You wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, maybe not even yourself, but you had hoped to run into Logan the entire time. Ever since his return you had been itching to get a glimpse of him, but between shadowing Storm, Scott, and Jean, and tending to whatever menial chore Professor Xavier tasked you with, you didn’t have any time for run-ins. Nothing but quick passing in the hallway where you were too shy to do much other than meet his eye for a second, wave, and then scurry along towards the end of the hallway. 
But you had gotten what you wanted when you heard the soft thud of feet followed by the sound of Logan speaking. 
“Is there another one of those?” 
You face him with your mouth stuffed with ice cream. It takes you a second to chew enough to speak around the food without making a complete fool of yourself in front of Logan. 
“This is the last one …” you swallow, ignoring the sting of the cold at the back of your throat. “Sorry.”
Logan shrugs like it’s no big deal and he steps to the fridge. You move out of the way, even though you weren’t really in the way at all, and try to be casual as you chew the remains of your bar, ignoring the sudden warmth in your body now that he’s here. 
Logan doesn’t say anything. You watch the top half of his body disappear as he reaches into the fridge for something, coming out after a minute and some soft shuffling later with a beer bottle in his hand. You don’t know when it got there, and you’re amazed that it was still there and not stolen by some eager teenager. You try not to stare as he takes his first sip, but you sneak a few glances. 
You finish your sandwich, throwing the wrapper out in the drawer trash can and trying your best to ignore Logan’s eyes on you the entire time. He gets halfway through his beer before he says something. 
Leaning against the counter, legs crossed at the ankle and one arm tucked across his chest, he asks, “Can’t sleep, right?”
You nod, not shocked at all that he has you pegged. It’s not unsurprising for a mutant in this place to be unable to sleep. 
Logan nods as if he understands and you know he does, you remember the incident with Rogue just a year or so ago, that and the stories you hear about him wandering the halls at night. It’s why you’d always been so eager to slip down here during restless nights, constantly hoping that this would happen to you. 
And now that it has happened, you don’t know what to do. There’s not much for you to discuss with Logan, the two of you don’t have all that much in common. He’s far older than you, for starters, at least a decade and a half on you from what you’ve gathered. He’s been gone for a while, but you think the others have caught him up on everything that he’s missed already. 
So you just build onto what you have. 
“I just can’t fall asleep. Every time I start, I shake myself awake.” 
Logan takes a swig from his beer and pulls his lips tight, a face of sympathy sliding over his features—eyebrows pinched, lips downturned, eyes a little narrowed. 
“Yeah?” You nod your head. “Sounds horrible, kid.”
Kid. You know you’re younger than him, it’s obvious, but you’re not a kid. You don’t see why he thinks of you that way. Rogue and Bobby are kids and you’re older than them. More mature, no longer a student but now practically a teacher. 
You don’t want Logan to see you as a kid. You know what you want him to see you as, but it seems to become more and more impossible by the day. 
You don’t say anything, lifting your foot enough to press the toe of your slippers into the cleaned grout between the tiles at your feet. 
“Tell you what,” he begins, promoting your head to lift, “next time that happens to you, you come find me, alright? I know how much it sucks to be alone like that so if you need me, come find me.”
That’s what you did. 
After you left the kitchen, finally letting your grin break free since no one was around to see it during the trek back to your room, you told yourself you would only go to Logan if you needed him. 
You tried to sleep, snuggling yourself in a cocoon of blankets and pillows around your head. You lit a candle, counted sheep, made up scenarios to doze off (ones that definitely didn’t involve Logan tenderly holding your hand and stroking your cheek and—), but nothing seemed to work. 
So you found yourself standing in the doorway of Logan’s bedroom, one hand still on the doorknob and the other toying with a loose thread at the bottom of your tee shirt. The bedroom is dark, save for the moonlight peeking through his opened curtains, but from the hallway light behind your back you can see Logan’s frame under the sheets. 
His back faces you until you harshly whisper his name, which at the call of he lifts his head, looking at you, and then rolls over completely to click the lamp on his nightstand on. 
“What’s wrong, kid?”
You feel so meek when you explain, like you are a kid, crawling to your parents after a nightmare. 
“You told me to come find you.”
His squint relaxes. His entire frame relaxes actually. He sits up, jerking his head in a beckon. You click the door shut behind you as softly as you can, approaching the bed timidly until you stand on the other side. 
And then you just hover. You stand there hesitantly, staring down at the slightly unmade side of the bed. Logan doesn’t say anything for a minute, but once the silence and hesitance stretches to an uncomfortable end, he speaks up, his voice groggier and raspier than it was before. 
“You gonna sleep from there? Is that some mutant power that I didn’t know about?” He says it like he’s teasing you, and when you look at him you can see the small smile on his lips. It’s similar to the one he sports when he’s messing with Scott but with more softness in his eyes. 
You scoff, trying to play it cool when Logan lifts the sheets for you and you climb under them. This side of the bed is cold and unused and you wonder if you’re the first person to use it. 
You get as comfortable as you possibly can. You fluff the pillow and create the perfect indent for your head, you pull the sheets up to your shoulders, you lay on your side and face the window, and then when Logan clicks the light off, you close your eyes and try to sleep. 
You don’t know how you thought this would be any better than struggling to sleep in your own bed, because it’s so much worse. 
In your own bed, you were left with the out-of-reach fantasies of Logan. You laid in bed, giggling to yourself as you imagined what it would be like to lay next to Logan. You filled your head with blurry images of Logan’s frame, what he would look like with his eyes closed and his face completely relaxed. You tried to imagine the heat of his body in the cold of your room, trying to change your body temperature just with a thought. 
But now it’s all right beside you, left there for you to catalogue so you could never forget this moment. 
The feeling of his body so close yet so far from yours. The sound of his breathing. The smell of his body wash and the way it lingered on his sheets. You’re finally in Logan’s bedroom, but you’re not getting what you want. You truly don’t think you ever will. 
It’s impossible for you to sleep now. You try to keep your tossing and turning to a minimum, only moving when absolutely necessary and doing so with tentativeness. You’re trying to be meticulous with your movements, all with a goal to disturb Logan as little as possible. You’re a guest here, after all. 
But even if he wasn’t an attentive mutant you knew he would’ve eventually gotten fed up. 
He calls your name, soft yet sounding like a warning, and you’re quick to apologize. 
He doesn’t say anything else for a second, then, “Whatever’s on your mind, squash it. Jus’ let it go.”
You don’t mean to sound as bitter as you do when you say, “Easier said than done.”
Logan shifts and turns around until he’s facing you. You stay facing the window. 
“What usually turns your mind off?” he asks. “A glass of warm milk?” 
When you laugh it’s halfhearted and maybe this is the final indicator that something about you is off. 
“Look at me.” You obey embarrassingly quickly. 
You can’t really see him in the dark, but the white light from outside illuminates the slope of his nose and the apples of his cheeks. You can sort of see his eyes too, the usually light green darker because of the environment, but the shadowy fan of his eyelashes is as distinct as usual. 
“Seriously, tell me what’s going on. Anything I can help you with?” He lets the question linger in the air for a second before adding on. “You need me to rough a few kids up? You being bullied?” He says it like a joke.
“No,” you say. 
Logan makes an ‘ah’ sound. “Yeah I’m sure you could handle yourself.” The sheets lift again. “Come ‘ere.”
Shit, shit, shit. 
You listen to him, scooting closer until you’re wrapped in Logan’s arms, enveloped in his warmth. It’s nice and comfortable, the sound of Logan’s heart right next to your ear, the security of his arms wrapped around your frame. 
“Does this help you?”
You hum affirmatively, already starting to feel more comfortable than you had before. Your heart beats painfully hard in your chest and you start to get self-conscious, knowing that Logan can definitely hear it.
Right on cue, he laughs a bit against your head. 
“Nervous?”
“No.” God, you’re so obvious. 
Logan’s laugh grows until he’s snickering, doing a terrible job of stifling his laughter. “‘s alright,” he eventually says. “Nothing wrong with that.”
You make yourself as comfortable as possible, pressing your back to Logan’s chest, trying to ignore the hard feeling of his body behind you. You can basically feel everything, the plane of his chest pushing through his tee, the ridge of his sweatpants against your lower back, his legs against yours—tempting you to intertwine them together, his feet hanging right under yours. You’re not exactly dressed for this and your shirt has ridden up, bunched at the top of your ass and exposing your panties. You wonder if he knows. You wonder if he cares. 
This is helping you a lot, but there’s still something on your mind. Something you need to solve before you can go off to sleep. 
You don’t know what it is that makes you confident, that makes you want to ruin a good moment. Maybe it’s the dark providing you comfort, but you lay it all out. 
“You treat me like a kid.”
Logan takes a second. You can just barely make out the hitch in his voice. “...Yeah?”
You’re glad he can’t see you when you pout. It wouldn’t have done much to help your case. “I’m not a kid, Logan. You don’t treat Rogue like a kid.”
“Rogue is different.”
“How? I’m older than her.”
“Just … can we not argue?”
“We’re not arguing.”
“Yeah? Then whaddya call this?”
“A conversation between two adults.”
He hums as if he’s unconvinced. 
You won’t let it go. “How is Rogue different?”
“Go to sleep,” he admonishes.
“Can’t. Not until you answer my question.”
Logan sighs. “‘cause I’m not attracted to her, alright?”
Oh. 
Oh. 
Wait … what?
You’re sure your silence is enough to express your confusion because Logan adds on. 
“I’m trying to set boundaries between us, kid—”
“Don’t call me that.”
He corrects himself with the use of your name instead, but it comes out the same way. “We need boundaries between the two of us. You think I don’t see how you look at me? ‘s not good.”
“If you’re setting boundaries why did you invite me in here.”
“Because I wanted to help you.”
Why is he making you feel crazy? He just told you he’s attracted to you, but he wants to set boundaries? There are barely any boundaries here. You’re alone with him, in his bedroom, tucked away at the end of the hall surrounded by mostly empty bedrooms instead of bedrooms of asleep mutants, curled up against his chest. This is the most opportune time, yet he didn’t want to make a move.
Maybe you were reading too much into it. 
You go to pull away from Logan’s embrace but he keeps you pulled tight to his chest. 
“Don’t do that,” he says it like a command and just to piss him off you consider pulling away. But you’re really comfortable and this is a comfort you aren’t sure you’re ever going to find again. 
“Just go to sleep, alright,” he says your name again, much softer this time. He says it like he’s coaxing you like your name is the final tune in a lullaby. 
Maybe Logan has other powers you aren’t aware of because just that one sentence is enough for you to let it go and submit to the sudden exhaustion that settles over your body like a weighted blanket. 
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You don’t know if Logan’s been avoiding you. Mostly because you’ve been avoiding him.
It’s not often that the two of you would have to run into each other, but there were a few times when Professor Xavier extended the invitation to observe an upcoming class, and you declined upon learning that Logan would be subbing. 
You kept your distance as much as you could, even keeping yourself locked up in your bedroom throughout the night, no matter how restless you got. You were miserable, not only because you wanted to be near Logan, but because you were fucking exhausted. 
You could barely stay awake throughout the day, always sneaking off for power naps, taking whatever you could get even if it was only five minutes. 
But you finally have the rest of the afternoon to yourself and you intend to use it to sleep. Uncaring of how much it threw off your sleep schedule, you just needed a solid half hour curled up at the foot of your made bed like a dog, sleeping to your heart's content. 
Of course, it’s on your way up to your room that you run into Logan. You try to ignore him, continuing your path up the stairs, praying that Logan will continue on his path downstairs. 
You don’t know what it is about you that says come talk to me! but Logan stops in his journey, turning to face you. He calls your name, continuing even when you don’t respond. He follows your trek up the stairs and down the hallway, always right on your heels and within arm's reach. 
By the time your hand reaches for your bedroom door, Logan is practically breathing down your neck. 
You know there’s no avoiding him now, but you also don’t want to. 
You stand still, hand wrapped around the doorknob, waiting for Logan to say his piece. 
“Why’d you lead me to your bedroom?” The way he says it, with such arrogance and assurance woven into that same joking manner as if he wasn’t the one who turned you down just a few nights ago. 
“Fuck off, Logan. I just wanna get some sleep.”
You twist the knob and this is what wakes Logan up. “Okay, wait.” His hand reaches out and rests on your elbow. Just this one touch strikes you still. “Will you look at me?”
You turn around, trying to keep your gaze hard even as you take in his appearance for the first time in days. 
The bags under his eyes, the relaxed smile that’s constantly on his face when he’s around you, the thickness of his eyebrows, the points in his hair. You’re staring at his hair, wondering if it’s naturally like that or if he does it himself, and when you look at his eyes again there isn’t a connection. He’s staring at your lips instead. 
You lift your eyebrows impatiently, already imagining the sleep you’ll get after you ruminate until you can’t form a coherent thought. 
Logan opens his mouth. “Look, I’m sorry if you got a little hurt from the other night. Is just this age gap and your little crush is not gonna wor—”
You’re already turning around, deciding whatever else he’s going to say isn’t important at all, but Logan stops you. His movements are fluid, they flow naturally from his body and straight into yours, causing you to move with a coordination you didn’t expect. He spins you back around and pulls you straight to his chest, your hands flying to his shoulders to steady yourself, while his hands rest on your hips and your cheek. 
The movement is quick, it happens within a couple of seconds, and it makes the moment after feel so much longer. Nothing but shared blinks as Logan looks at your lips and you look at his. You’re so close to him, even closer than you were the other night, but neither of you makes a move. 
You’re considering making the first move, opening your mouth as if to ask him a question that was still unknown to you, but then Logan’s grip on your cheek tightens as if he’s holding you still and he moves in closer, and closer, and closer until his lips ghost over yours. 
In the end, it’s you who crosses the bridge. 
Your lips touch, sandwiched together, but neither of you do anything. Not until you take a tiny step closer, really nothing but an adjustment of your feet, is Logan pulling you into him. He digs his fingers into the waistband of your jeans, that one hand possessing all of the aggression that doesn’t exist in the hand holding your cheek. 
It’s like the touch of two different men—one who wants to devour you whole and the other who wants to treasure you. You hope that they’re able to coexist as you desperately want both. 
You let Logan kiss you feverishly, an intensity unlike anything you’ve ever seen him display settling in his lips. The Logan you knew was always relaxed, walking around the mansion with a carefree, practically laissez-faire, attitude. He didn’t meddle, he kept his hands to himself, always wrapped around a cigar or a beer. 
But now those hands were wrapped around you for the second time this week. 
You press your hands into the shoulder of his white tee shirt, starting to slide them up towards his hair before you resist. You want to get comfortable kissing him, but you’re still out in the hallway. 
Having the same thought, Logan pulls away from your lips with enough time to open the door, latch his hands onto your hips, and blindly steer you backward until you’re in the room. He stares down at you the entire time, that same smirk on his lips as he kicks the door closed behind him with a single boot. 
And then he has you pressed against the wood, sandwiched between a rock and a hard place. 
He looks at you for a second, his gaze lingering, and then he gets back to it. 
If even possible, Logan has more passion this time around. He sinks his hands to your thighs, pulling one up by his hip. He slots his legs into the opening until your center is hovering over his thigh. You don’t know what to expect, but when he flexes the muscle and presses his limb right up against you, you’re already trying to get more. 
Logan smiles as he kisses you, clearly entertained by your anguished need to get off. He doesn’t verbally reassure you, he doesn’t help you grind yourself down, he doesn’t do anything but continue kissing you. 
When you need to come up for air, knocking your head back into mahogany as you intake large gulps, Logan dips his head down and explores as much skin as he can. He creates a path of kisses from your jaw, down your neck, to the exposed parts of your chest. 
You tilt your head down, locking your hand into his hair and trying to redirect his lips back to yours, but he stops you with a hand pinching your cheeks. 
His eyes flick back and forth between yours, nothing but mischief and arrogance in the green. You wrap a hand around his wrist with the initial want to tug him away, but you like the hold he has you in. You like the look in his eyes. 
“Good?” His voice is softer than his grip. 
You nod, trying to grin as best as you can when your lips are forcibly puckered. 
Logan smiles right back at you. “You got a rubber?”
You nod again, scurrying to your nightstand once Logan lets you go. He tells you to get on the bed and you take the liberty of throwing your shirt off and bra as you go. You have enough sense to step out of your shoes, unclasp your jeans, and tug the zipper down in the path. 
By the time you’re sitting on your bed, you can feel the anxiety thrumming through your body. It’s a good kind, the kind you’ve been seeing less and less of lately. You’re still a little tired and still desiring a solid nap, but it can definitely wait. This is your main priority. 
Logan speaks to you as he undresses. 
“You still doing okay?” he asks as he’s pulling his tee over his head. When you nod, he moves to his belt, thick but deft fingers undoing it and leaving it hanging open and hooked into his belt loops. 
“You tell me if you wanna stop,” he says as he pulls his jeans down, stepping out of them right after he steps out of his boots. You give him a look and he clocks it immediately. 
“You think you can take it, bub?” He laughs. “Yeah? Don’t you think you’re talkin’ a big game?”
Petulantly, you roll your eyes. “Logan, I’m not a fucking kid, I’ll be fine.”
Wrong. So, so, so stupidly wrong. 
You are fine, but the sight of Logan’s dick sends nerves down your spine. You’ve talked yourself up, you can’t go back, so you do what you can. You let him peel your jeans and panties off, hoping you look as seductive as he does. You keep your eyes on his abdomen, tracing the vein that runs from the right of his navel down to his cock, breathing as well as you can while Logan lines himself up. The first push burns, just like you expect it to, but you adjust quicker than you thought. Eventually, all you can feel is pleasure. You’re so full when he’s only halfway in you. You feel stuffed as soon as he bottoms out, his heavy ball sack resting flush against you, a thick forest of pubes pressed against your cunt. 
Logan is so much, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted and more. Hovering and staring down at you as his hips rock into yours, slowly and experimentally at first. It’s not until you draw a leg up over his hips that he increases the strength of his rocks. 
He has one hand keeping himself steady and the other holding your waist. It’s so intimate, and not only because he’s fucking you, but because he’s staring down at you the entire time, his teeth bared as he watches you for every single reaction. His eyes rake down your body, watching the way your tits jiggle before dipping lower to watch the way he’s entering you. You can’t see his gaze, but you can feel it, the weight of it comparable to the weight of his cock in you. 
There’s an inhuman nature to it, hidden deep below the surface as if he’s trying to hold back, but it’s there. You’re made aware of it when you clench around him and he growls. It comes from the back of his throat but it’s a sound you’ve never heard before. It’s so Logan, you don’t think anyone other than him could make a sound like that as erotic as it is. You want to hear him more, you want your moans to blend together amongst the four walls of your bedroom, but he keeps his sounds to himself. It’s like there’s a disconnect between the both of you, like Logan’s still holding back even though he’s balls deep in you. 
“Logan,” you whine, getting his attention. He looks at you with concern in his eyes, his hips slowing down. You shake your head, pushing more towards him. “Please,” you beg, praying he knows exactly what you want. 
“What? What d’you want?”
“More.”
Logan gets rougher. He’s grinding up into you like his life depends on it, blunt nails delving into your skin as if he wants to break it. You wish he would. You aren’t regenerative like he is, but you still desire the broken skin, the beads of blood, the marks left behind. 
You’re thinking about it, eyes lidded and falling closed when Logan knocks his forehead into yours once. He moans, closed-mouthed as his head lolls to the side, a shiver shaking him from the bottom of the spine up. 
“Jesus, baby,” he says. It’s all he says, but it’s more than enough. He keeps going, digging his tip into you deeper and deeper until it feels like he’s swimming in your guts. 
He drags his head down until he can wrap his lips around one of your nipples, licking and sucking before moving on to give the other one the same treatment. You desperately want him to mark you up, you want a reminder that this—the thing you’ve been wanting since Storm and Scott came back with two new mutants in tow—actually happened. Bravely, you reach out and tangle your hand in his hair, surprisingly softer than you thought it would be. You don’t hold him down much, just enough to communicate what you want nonverbally. And then after a few tortuous seconds of hesitation, his lips wrap around the skin atop your left breast and he sucks. The strength in it stings, it reminds you just how strong Logan is, but it feels so good. 
Unexpectedly, you feel your muscles seize. It starts in your tummy, deep down near where Logan’s been massaging, and then it just doesn’t stop, likely because he doesn’t stop. 
It’s like he’s spurred on by the feeling of you cumming, motivated by the way your back arches and you reach for the heavens as you clench around his cock. 
He gets a burst of energy, fucking you like he has something to prove when really it’s you with something to prove. 
You’re overstimulated, struggling to keep up with Logan, but you don’t want to tap out. You talked a big game, you can’t back down now. So you remain silent while Logan pulls another orgasm out of you, hoping he won’t notice the way your eyes brew tears without your consent and the way your lips quirk with the impending request to slow down. 
Of course, he notices. 
He’s grinning with sympathy—you don’t know if it’s sincere or faux—when he takes a hand and strokes your cheekbone. 
“I see ya, kid. Feels good, yeah?”
For some reason, when he calls you kid like this, you don’t completely hate it. 
There’s no point in lying, so you nod. 
“So tight,” he winces, eyebrows pinched together as he flashes his teeth, a dimple in his right cheek appearing with it. 
Just as you didn’t warn him before, he doesn’t warn you when he cums. You feel it though, the way his thrusts get sloppier and faster just before he gives you one punctual one, and then you feel the confined warmth of his cum shooting into the condom. 
You wish you weren’t as exhausted as you were, because the next time you’re conscious, it’s dark out and the bedsheet is covering your body. You’re hot, hotter than you usually want to be when you’re sleeping, but you’re bare naked. That and you only have a thin sheet covering your body. 
It doesn’t take much investigation to figure out what’s making you so hot, not when it’s attached to your back with one meaty bicep slung around your neck and keeping you pulled against him. It takes you a bit to fall asleep, but once you do, you’re out for the rest of the night. 
4K notes · View notes
not-neverland06 · 25 days
Note
Hey! Your writing is amazing! I’ve been checking daily for new fics lmao
I was wondering if your requests were open would you be able to write some angst with a happy ending w/ Peanut?
Perhaps a Shy!Reader who has flirty banter with Logan. They’re on a mission and Logan has to make a quick decision on who to save — Reader or Jean and he saves Jean without thinking. Reader ends up surviving with a few injuries but her and Logan’s relationship starts to deteriorate. Logan’s not good with verbal apologies so he does acts of service — bringing reader food/drinks etc. reader is stubborn and Logan starts to get frustrated. He eventually proves himself to reader.
I’m sorry if this is confusing!! I’m not creative enough to write it myself and you’re really really skilled. Love your work x
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a/n: I read this request and then read them together and my brain imploded because I loved it so much, no smut in this one Summary: Logan saves Jean on a mission and it's the wake-up call you desperately needed to understand that you will never be her. You can't stand to look at him anymore and he doesn't understand why you've stopped talking to him.
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“What’re you thinking of doing after this?”
You shrug, leaning back on the uncomfortable bench seats and looking over at Logan. “Not sure, got any plans?”
Logan smirks and you immediately know whatever he’s about to say is going to send you spiraling. “Yeah, whatever you’re doing, sweetheart.”
Oh. My. God!
You know you’ve got it bad when something as simple as that has you swooning. It’s so easy to fall into this routine with him, to pretend you’re more suave than you actually are. Despite your usual tendency to fade into the background, you find it nearly impossible to do with him. 
Where someone else might let you stay quiet and go ignored, he seeks you out. He makes you feel seen and heard. Some days you don’t know if you appreciate it or despise it. You laugh a little, trying to hide just how affected by him you are. “Sounds good, Lo.”
He smiles and leans back on the seat, his arm coming around the back to rest lightly over your shoulders. You can tell from the look on Storm’s face that she’s trying not to laugh at you. You can’t blame her, you’re sure your eyes have tripled in size and you look absolutely stunned. 
Flirting isn’t out of the usual for you and him. Lately, though, he’s upped the game. Touching you more than usual, spending more one-on-one time together. You can feel it all building up to something. You’re shy, not stupid, you know when a guy’s going to ask you out. 
But it feels like he’s dragging it out longer than necessary like he’s enjoying teasing you a little too much.  “Alright,” Scott stands up and moves towards the back of the jet. “We’re almost there, get ready.”
You, very reluctantly, pull away from Logan and get to your feet. He walks past you, briefly squeezing your hand before joining Scott by the ramp. You grin, flexing your hand by your side and trying to memorize the feeling. 
The ramp lowers to the ground and Scott and Logan lead the way out. You’re expecting this to be simple. Stake out the area, find some information about the people running the warehouse, and figure out what exactly it is that they’ve been doing. 
The air is bursting with moisture. It’s suffocating, how humid it is, how it makes the material of your suit cling to your skin. You know the rest of the team can feel it. That it’s irritating them just as much. 
None of you want to be out here in the peak of summer, trying to be stealthy in these ridiculous costumes. Your thighs squeak every time they rub together. It’s beyond embarrassing. You know that that’s what has you all distracted. 
You’re struggling through ankle-deep mud and sweating buckets. So none of you are paying any particular attention to the area around you. Technically, you shouldn’t have to, you’re still about a mile out from where you need to be. 
You duck, hands coming up to cover your ears as Charles’ voice screams through your mind. It’s a trap!
Even with the warning, there’s no time to prepare. The ground around you explodes, grass and dirt flying through the air. Logan grabs your arm, he shoves himself in front of you and takes the brunt of the bullets. Splatters of blood hits your cheeks and he runs you both behind a tree for cover. 
The other three have all found their own cover and they’re struggling to figure out where the shots are coming from. You spot something in the underbrush and scream, “Behind you!”
It’s more of a warning to duck than it is to move. You throw your hands up, shoving the man away from them and sending him flying into the trunk of a tree. You swear you can hear the snap of his spine as it hits the bark. 
You look to Jean and nod towards the small clearing of trees. “Don’t,” Logan warns. But you’re already slipping out of his grip and solidifying the air in front of you. It provides enough of a cover, absorbing the bullets, and giving you all time to figure out a plan of attack. 
Jean moves beside you, eyes narrowing on the perimeter of your cover. “There are too many of them, more than I can count.” 
“How did they know we were coming?” Scott snaps, keeping an eye on the area behind you. 
Your arms struggle under the weight of your power. The more bullets they shoot into your cover, the harder it is to keep up. You’re forced to absorb their energy, push it out tenfold to try and keep the blockage solidified. 
“Guys,” you snap, “we need a plan. I can’t hold it much longer.” You grit your teeth, taking a step forward to try and push against the strain. It does nothing but make your bones ache. Logan shoots you a concerned glance, coming up behind you like he wants to take the weight off your shoulders. But there’s nothing he can do. 
There’s movement behind you, a boot snapping a twig in two. You can’t risk looking back but you can hear the worry in Jean’s voice. “Ten of them-”
You can tell by the sounds of their movement that the others don’t give her much of a chance to finish. Ororo, Scott, and Logan all shoot forward to deal with the threat. Ten isn’t much to worry about. But that doesn’t change the fact that the men in front of you haven’t let up and you’re about to weep from the weight of keeping the wall up. 
Jean stays beside you, brows furrowed in concern. She places her hand on your shoulder and closes her eyes. A second later you feel something like a cool blanket laid over you. The tension in your arms and core eases just enough for you to stop clenching your jaw so hard. Some of the strain eases away and you know she’s sharing it with you. 
But just as quickly as the relief was given, it’s yanked away. Jean jumps back with a gasp, “Flux, we need to move!”
“I can’t,” you shout, fighting to be heard over the sound of bloodshed and gunshots going off in front of and behind you. The others are steadily moving through the people surrounding you, but their numbers are still overwhelming. “It’ll all come crashing down,” you tell her. 
She glances towards the bullets, finally spotting the way they’re slowly, but steadily, moving through the thickened air. The second you let go you’ll be riddled with holes. “Shit,” she hisses. “Look, we can’t stay here much longer-”
She’s cut off by a loud bang. You’re so disoriented by the noise your hands drop to your sides. At the same moment, you hear wood splintering and cracking beside you. What has to be the largest tree in the forest creaks before it begins its descent down towards you both. 
You don’t what happened, or what they used, but it doesn’t matter. The wall in front of you is fading. You have seconds to get out of the way of the bullets and the tree, you’re not sure either of you is going to make it. 
“Jean!” There’s a flash of brown hair and Jean’s being tackled to the ground, safely out of the way of the tree and bullets. You feel something stinging against your shoulder and know the first bullet’s made its way through. 
You also see the tree is almost over top of you. You’ve always been a fight response in flight or fight scenarios. But when there’s nothing to fight, when you have nothing to go up against, you freeze. It’s horrible, you know it, but there’s nothing you can do about it. 
Even as you’re desperately screaming at yourself to just fucking move, all you can do is watch as the tree topples down on top of you. “Flux, duck!” The words trigger something in your brain just soon enough to drop to the ground. 
Scott releases a red beam, blasting through the tree and knocking it off course. You don’t even register the smell of burning flesh as you lay in the mud. Your blood is rushing so fast in your veins, there’s so much adrenaline pumping through you, you can’t focus on anything except the sound of your heartbeat. 
You let out a breath of relief, slowly lifting yourself up to your knees. You don’t hear any more fighting and you figure whoever they hadn’t taken down before, the beam took care of the rest. 
You look down, checking yourself for any bullet holes or serious damage but you can’t find anything. Something warm trickles down your shoulder, it drips across your arm and down your hand. 
You look at the blood curiously, it seems to steady a flow from the simple bullet graze you’d had earlier. “Oh my god,” Jean whispers your name and you turn around with a concerned look. 
You want to ask her what’s wrong but your eyes are trained on the way Logan’s arms are bracketing her. He’s practically on top of her, only now getting up to check on you. You get it, it was a stressful situation, he acted fast. 
But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow the lump in your throat. It doesn’t ease the burn of betrayal. He saved her, not you. He chose her even though she doesn’t want him. The anger you’re feeling only makes it harder to be aware of your surroundings. 
It’s not until Scott kneels behind you a presses a gentle hand against your back that you lurch forward with a loud cry. The pain slams down on you all at once. The wind blowing gently against your back feels like someone’s dug razor blades in your skin and ripped. 
Feet rush towards you, someone kneeling beside you and grabbing your shoulders. Logan forces you up and makes you look at him before his gaze turns to your back. “What the fuck did you do?” He practically growls, lunging towards Scott. 
He grabs him by the collar and shoves him into the dirt. Ororo and Jean leap forward, trying unsuccessfully to rip him off. You try and keep your eyes open, try and stay focused. The pain is too much, you don’t want to be awake for this anymore. Every nerve on your back feels like it’s being forcefully exposed and plucked at. 
Your brain forces a shutdown and you slump into the mud, the world going black. 
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When you wake up, you’re on your stomach. You’re a little dazed, not fully remembering how you got here. You try and sit up but there’s a steady grip around your wrists stopping you. “Don’t move,” Jean warns from somewhere behind you. 
You try and look for her but you can’t move much. Your head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, stuck to the pillow beneath you. “What happened? Why can’t I move?”
Her shoes appear in front of you and then she’s kneeling down, a slightly worried look on her face. “We needed to make sure you didn’t roll over in your sleep.” Her brows crinkle and she frowns, “You don’t remember?” You shake your head minutely. She sighs, lifting her hand to your face and pressing her chilled fingers to your temple. 
The images rush towards you. You see it all from her eyes. The way Logan had grabbed her and thrown her to the ground, checking over her and not once looking at you. How Scott had tried to stop the tree from breaking your spine. His beam had just barely grazed your back as you had ducked. But it was enough for there to be serious damage. 
Through her view, you can see the way your skin had bubbled up and blistered. How horribly damaged it was. You have limited healing abilities, but it was enough to stop the nerves from being permanently damaged. 
She lets you go and you groan, the pain slowly registering in your brain. It’s dulled and you don’t know if they’ve given you drugs or if your abilities are still working to help you. “How’s Scott?” 
She chuckles and shakes her head while she undoes the restraints around your wrist. “He feels awful. He keeps coming by to check on you.”
The thought of him sitting beside you while you were strapped down to the bed makes you feel a little bad. It wasn’t his fault, he’d helped you. It was more than Logan had done for you. 
You frown, hating yourself for being bitter. If he hadn’t helped, Jean might not be here next to you. He had saved your friend. The thought didn’t bring much comfort, though. “I’m not mad at him.”
Jean eases you onto your knees and slowly helps you sit up. It causes minimal pain, but it’s still uncomfortable enough to grit your teeth and dig your nails into your palms. “I know, but he’ll probably be coming down here a lot to check on you.”
You almost ask her if anyone else has visited. If Logan had, but you don’t think her answer would make you feel any better. “He did,” she tells you and you click your tongue in irritation. 
“Out of my head,” you warn. She releases you with a small grin. “I don’t care,” you tell her, trying to appear nonchalant. 
She tilts her head, eyes narrowing on you. “Yes, you do. And I don’t need telepathy to know.” She walks towards your IV bag, fiddling around with something on the line. “He was here whenever he could be, practically lived beside you.”
“Don’t care,” you tell her again, but there’s less conviction this time. 
Jean frowns and you hate how guilty she looks. It’s not her fault he’s desperately in love with her and not you. You can’t force someone to love you or choose you. And you don’t want to. You want someone to love you for who you are, not because they couldn’t have their first choice. 
“Don’t,” you say lowly. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.”
She doesn’t get a chance to say anything before the door bursts open, both Logan and Scott sliding into your room. Scott lets out a relieved breath when he sees you. He breathes out your name and approaches with a guilty smile, “You’re awake.”
“Charles told us,” Logan informs. You offer him a brief glance before diverting your attention to Scott. 
Petty, you’re aware. But you don’t want to see Logan right now. You’d put so much effort and time into your friendship with him. It doesn’t even matter if he doesn’t feel the same way about you. You two are best friends, and he didn’t even try to help you when you needed him the most. 
So, you smile at Scott. You forgive him and you tell him you're fine. You chat with him and Jean while Logan just stares at you from the other side of your bed. You can’t make yourself face him. You don’t want to look at him, it makes you sick to your stomach.
Eventually, Scott’s guilt is slightly assuaged and he and Jean leave for the night. Logan is a heavy presence beside you, one you no longer can ignore. You shift around, pretending to fluff your pillows until he grabs your hand. 
“What’re you doing?”
You look at his hand and then at him. Whatever look is on your face is enough for him to release you and back off. “Getting comfortable,” you spit out, more venom in your voice than necessary. Something clicks for him, you can see it as it happens. 
He backs up and narrows his eyes down at you. “Right.” He frowns and sucks on his teeth, nodding his head silently. “I’ll come back when you’re feeling a little better.” You don’t miss the hidden dig underneath it all, the way he’s calling out you’re unusual behavior. 
“I think that’d be best.”
He scoffs and shakes his head, slamming the door behind him as he leaves. You jump at the noise and it makes you hiss as a twinge of pain shoots down your spine. You feel slightly guilty about the whole interaction. Then, you remember the way he’d been cradling Jean and you feel slightly vindicated. 
You’re sure he doesn’t even give a shit. He’s probably pouting in his room, wishing Jean was in bed beside him. 
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What the fuck?
It’s all that’s been playing through Logan’s head since he returned from your room in the medbay. He’s waited days for you to wake up, so he can finally take a breath and let go of the anxiety that’s been plaguing him. 
He’d thought that he’d lost you in that forest. When he’d gone for Jean, he’d assumed you’d just be able to use your powers to knock the tree out of your path. Or make it melt around you. 
Honestly, he can’t put a finger on what exactly he was thinking. But he knew that you could protect yourself and that would be your priority. So he’d moved without really thinking and grabbed the person who would be collateral damage if your powers went haywire. 
And then you hadn’t saved yourself and all he could smell was your burning flesh. The smell has been stuck in his nose since you were brought back to the mansion. He can’t escape it. Everywhere he goes, he sees you burning and hears your screams. 
He’d thought that you were dead and there was a moment where he genuinely was so lost he could do nothing but watch as the others swarmed you. He couldn’t move, couldn’t help you. He could only stare at your still body and pray to anybody who could hear him that you weren’t dead. 
He didn’t know what he would do if he lost you before he ever got a chance to love you. 
He’d, irritatingly, imagined all the different ways he would finally tell you how he felt when you woke up. He’d prepared himself for every possible reaction, except this one. He hadn’t expected you to reject him before he ever got the chance to confess. 
Anger stews within him as he paces through his room. He knows that it’s unfair to be upset with you. You’d gone through something horrific and there had been doubts about your recovery. Of course, you’d act off. 
Except, you only seemed to be directing that at him. Had you been just as dismissive to Scott, the person who actually hurt you, he would have looked past it. He’s tempted to go back down and see you again, maybe try and make you see some sense. 
Instead, he decides to give you both some time to calm down. He doesn’t want to do anything he might regret while he’s pissed off. He’ll see you tomorrow and, hopefully, you’ll be back to normal. 
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You’d thought Logan might have gotten the hint with how you behaved earlier. That was not the case. He’s back today and you can smell the breakfast food he’s brought you. The smell is wafting deliciously from an inconspicuous brown bag. 
But you know it’s from the restaurant that’s twenty minutes out of his way. You’re not petty enough that you can’t appreciate the forty-minute round trip he’d taken for you, but you still aren’t excited to see him. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles at you despite your clearly hostile energy. He tugs the chair towards your bed, ripping open the bag and pulling out enough food for the both of you. 
You think it should be considered a form of manipulation to call you that while you’re pissed at him. He has such a clear effect on you. You know he’s aware of it. He knows that when he calls you something sweet like that it makes your heart race and stomach flip. 
You turn your gaze towards your blanket. You pretend the thread pattern is the most interesting thing in the world so you don’t have to look at him. You’re sick of giving your all to men who couldn’t care less about you. 
You’re tired of being the second, third, fourth choice. You want someone to choose you first for once. And you genuinely thought Logan would be the man to do that. But he’d chosen Jean. You should have known. 
“Alright,” he huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at you. You’re pissed off that he’s acting like he’s the one who was hurt. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve never been this mad at me before.”
It’s his tone of voice that really grates on you. He genuinely does not understand what he’s done wrong. He doesn’t even comprehend the possibility that you might be mad he left you to die. Have you really become such a doormat?
Yes, you’re shy and generally reserved with the people you meet. But he is so different. You two met and it was an instant connection that you thought was reciprocated. You hadn't realized that you'd become so complacent in the relationship he thought he could get away with something like this with no repercussions. 
“You left me to die,” you snap at him, voice taking a pitch it never has before. You’ve never truly gotten angry at him. Pissed off sometimes when he teased you a little too much. But you’d never plainly shown anger at him. “You fucking left me behind and expect me to, what,” you scoff and shove the food back towards him. 
“You think some shitty breakfast is going to fix this?” His face contorts. It screws up into something like hurt and you worry you might have been too harsh. He doesn’t know how you feel about him. He doesn’t know that this would hurt you so bad. 
But, it doesn’t matter. You’re still his friend. You should have at least warranted a little concern. 
Just as quickly as it appeared, the hurt is washed away by his own anger. “I thought you could take care of yourself. Isn’t that what you’re always bitching at us about?”
If you weren’t so upset you might find it funny how quickly the two of you turned on each other. Clearly, there was something repressed between the two of you. Some brewing resentment that neither of you had ever acknowledged. The words are coming quickly now, without thought.
“Fuck you, Logan,” you snap back at him. “You didn’t give a shit whether I lived or died. You only cared about your precious Jean.” You spit out her name with so much venom it stings as it leaves your tongue. 
He laughs, getting out of his chair. He shakes his head and glares at you. His anger is always a physical thing. You know he’s pacing so he doesn’t do something worse, like destroy the entirety of the room. 
“That’s what this is, you’re jealous? Don’t blame your fucking incompetence on me.” You hate the way he’s speaking to you. Like you’re a little girl who's incapable of understanding even the most basic of concepts. He has such a patronizing look on his face, you want nothing more than to wipe it off. 
The tables beside you tremble, the vases of flowers rattling against the wood. “I’m your friend, Logan. You could at least pretend like you cared about me.”
He leans against the end of the bed, tilting himself forward until he’s aggressively imposing your space. You shrink back against the pillows, narrowing your eyes in disdain. “Don’t fucking pull that shit with me. I knew that your priority would be to save yourself and I acted accordingly. This wasn’t some goddamn ploy to get into Jean’s pants. Grow the fuck up, Flux!”
You flinch back at the volume of his voice. Unwillingly, tears pool in the corners of your eyes. It’s an involuntary response. Sometimes you just get so enraged that you have no other way to get rid of it than to cry. It’s infuriating to see the moment someone stops taking you seriously and starts to think you’re nothing more than a crybaby. 
Logan’s face pales and he winces, backing away from you. “I didn’t-”
“Enough,” you stop him, voice thick with unshed tears. He never calls you by your X-men name, it’s an unspoken agreement between the two of you. That’s a formality reserved for the other members. To each other, you’re nothing more than two people who care deeply for one another. 
Or, you had been. Before this one moment had blown your life and your back up. 
“I appreciate how much faith you have in my abilities, but the fact that your first instinct wasn’t even to protect me says a lot.” You take in a deep breath and shake your head. “Thanks for the breakfast, but can you please just leave?”
He looks like he doesn’t want to. You know he doesn’t want to leave. You two never fight like this. Even if there wasn’t a lot said, it’s still not normal for you. Maybe that should have been your first hint that things weren’t what you thought. 
It’s healthy to fight, to a certain extent. Sometimes it's needed. You two never have before and you know it’s just been brewing for a while, waiting to blow up. “I-”
“Get out,” you shout, and the tables beside you finally crumble under the weight of your emotions. They drip to the ground in an inorganic form of liquid wood. “Shit,” you hiss, glancing over at them. You wave your hand and they return to their normal state, but it doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have lost control at all. 
The door slams and you look up to find the room empty. You sink back against your bed and run your hands over your face. You ignore the way the skin of your back screams in protest. 
You embrace the pain, the fiery shocks running up your nerves as the bandages chafe against the wounds. You focus on that instead of how things have ended with Logan. You always had such high hopes that he might be the one you finally man up and confess to. 
You should have known you were wrong. You should have known that it would never have ended with him picking you over her. 
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You’re permitted to leave the medbay the next day. You don’t see or hear from Logan for the following week. You can’t confirm if he’s purposefully avoiding you or not but you have to believe he is. You both live in the same hall. You don’t know how it’s possible to have gone this long without even catching a slight glimpse of him. 
You force yourself to suffocate the part of you that misses him. You picture the side of yourself that longs for his presence and imagine shoving a pillow over her face. You don’t want to ache and cry over someone who doesn’t give two shits about you. 
You keep reminding yourself over and over again that when things got rough he showed you his true colors. But it’s more difficult than you imagined to just completely disregard so much history with him. 
Besides, you hadn’t realized just how little you interacted with the others until Logan was out of your daily life. It’s so difficult for you to bond with people that when you’d connected with Logan you’d latched onto him. 
It’s a little pathetic, honestly. Being grown and eating lunch alone because you only had one friend. You wonder if your feelings for him were genuine or born from a desperation not to be alone. You don’t let yourself linger on the question for long. 
It’s as your training with the students that you finally see him again. 
“Has he made much progress yet?”
Jean shakes her head and purses her lips. She watches as Billy, one of the newer students, struggles with the logs in front of him. He was a firestarter, a very inexperienced one who had only ever set his curtains on fire. 
His powers were more focused on the mental aspect of things rather than the physical. Which is why you and Jean were in charge of helping him. He couldn’t start anything on his own, he only really seemed to be able to activate the ability when he was emotionally stimulated. 
That meant whenever he was mad or sad, or anything in between, everyone in a fifty-foot radius was in danger. He was a risk to the other students and you were both trying to be gentle with him. But you’d been working with him for so long and there was so little progress. It felt like he wasn’t trying sometimes. 
He’d asked Rogue out a week ago and when she’d said no, her hair had caught on fire. You know he could have been hurt and lashed out without thought or malice behind it. But you’d seen the look in his eye. 
You’re fifty percent sure he knows exactly what he’s doing. This little act he puts on is just to get himself out of trouble. You hadn’t brought the issue to Charles yet because you’re trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. 
“Billy,” you call out. His head whips up and he sends you a vicious glare. You can’t help the sneer on your lips. “Just take a deep breath and try again. There’s nothing wrong with struggling, we all did.”
You put on your normal teacher voice, calm and collected. Assuring. But the little shit in front of you isn’t buying it for a second. He gives you a sarcastic little grin, “Right. Sorry, I forgot you’re a fuck-up just like me.”
“Billy!” Jean snaps, taking a step forward to reprimand him. She doesn’t get far before there’s a fireball shooting out of his palms and hurtling towards the both of you. 
There’s no chance to react before something slams into your side and is tossing you to the ground. Your head nearly snaps against the grass but there’s a hand underneath your skull softening the blow. 
You smell something smoking and look up to see a large scorch mark right where you’d just been. Jean’s standing over it, palm outstretched as she keeps the fire subdued. She gives you a worried look, “Are you okay?”
Surprisingly, yes. You glance up to see Logan hovering over you. He backs off when he notices you’re okay, getting to his knees and offering you a hand. Wordlessly, you slip your palm into his and let him help you into a sitting position. 
“You alright,” his hand hovers over your shoulder like he wants to pull you closer. But he resists, backing off and waiting for your answer. You nod your head, still a little dazed from the failed assassination attempt. 
He narrows his eyes, searching your face for any sign of head trauma. When he’s properly assured you’re okay he jumps to his feet. “Billy!” His voice booms across the courtyard and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen that little asshole scared. 
He’s barely on his feet before Logan is stalking towards him, jerking him forward by the scruff of his neck and dragging him towards the mansion. “We need to have a little talk,” the tone of his voice has you a little scared and you’re not even the one he’s mad at. 
Jean walks towards you and helps you to your feet. “Is your back okay?”
“Yeah,” you nod and brush your clothes off. You have to physically shake the shock of what happened off. “Yeah, I’m fine. I can’t believe he did that.”
Jean scoffs and glares towards Billy’s back. Your eyes widen in shock when you see the large scorch mark across his arm. “Jean! He got you, are you okay?”
She glances down at her shirt and frowns. “Yeah, practically a sunburn.” She gives you a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine.”
As shitty as this sounds, you’re not concerned for her. You can only focus on the fact that she was in just as much danger as you and Logan had tackled you to the ground. You glance back towards the mansion, more fucking confused than ever. 
You’re not sure what compels you to follow Logan, but you’re running after him before Jean can stop you. He’s barely got a minute headstart on you, you’re not sure why you can’t find him. You’d gone through every inch of the first floor. 
You don’t know where he would have dragged Billy, but it’s nowhere you can find. After about ten minutes of looking for him, you give up on the hope that you’re ever going to figure out what’s happening inside his brain. 
You let out a defeated sigh, running a hand over your face and trying to shake off the funk of the day. You can’t believe that little shit tried to roast you. You’re not comfortable with the fact that he’s just roaming around inside the mansion somewhere. 
You turn out of the living room and nearly slam into someone. His hands shoot out, grabbing your shoulders and gently stopping you. “Logan,” you give him a strained smile. “I was looking for you.” You glance over his shoulder and frown. “Where’s Billy?”
Logan sighs, his hands linger on your arms for a moment before he takes a step back. “Wheels got to him before I could do anything.”
You laugh a little, the noise involuntary. “What were you planning on doing with the sixteen-year-old?”
He doesn’t find the question amusing if his expression is anything to go by. “He was really trying to hurt you.”
His words sober you up slightly and you drop the flippant attitude. “Yeah, I wanted to,” god, it feels like you could choke on the words. Just last week you were screaming at him for not helping you. Now, you could barely thank him because he had. 
“You’re always my priority.” He tells you before you can struggle any longer. Your head shoots up and you stare at him with confusion. He groans, the noise tired and resigned. “Saving Jean was a mistake. I mean it, kid, I just thought you could handle yourself.”
You open your mouth but he stops you before you can argue. “I know, that’s not the point. I should have saved you, no matter what I thought you could or couldn't handle.”
“No,” you stop him and shake your head. “No, Logan, I shouldn’t. I,” your mouth opens and he stares at you expectantly. What you were going to say gets stuck in your throat. This is a horrible idea. 
“I liked you in a way you didn’t like me and it was unfair of me to push my expectations onto you.” You wanted it to sound better, and more intelligent. Instead, it came out in one rushed breath and you’re not sure he even understood half of what you said. 
His brows furrow in confusion for a moment before a smile breaks out on his face. You’re not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that he’s smiling. You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or about to profess his undying love. 
You don’t have to wonder for long. He moves closer towards you, leaning forward until you’re practically sharing the same breaths. Unconsciously, you’re drawn into him, hands braced gently on his chest as you chase after him. 
“What are you doing?” Your whispered words brush against his lips and he gives you a small smile. His hands travel up your waist. He tugs you closer, his other hand looping around your neck and craning you up. 
“I’m gonna choose you every fucking time, kid.” His lips brush across your own and it’s like a switch is flipped in you both. Your arms twine around his neck, pulling him down until you’re practically melting into him. 
It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so different at the same time. You always thought your first kiss would be after some cheesy first date. He would have taken you out to dinner. Something would have inevitably gone wrong, you spilled something on your dress or the waiter brought the wrong order. 
You would both worry that it was a sign that nothing would work out between you. And then, at the end of the night, he’d tug you into his arms and kiss you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held. 
That would be nice, but this is better. He’s not holding you like you’re something fragile or something too precious for this world. He’s kissing you like you’re the very air he needs to survive. He’s greedy with his affections and demanding with his wants. 
You’re being consumed and devoured. And you never want to stop. This is all you’ve ever wanted with him, from him. 
Sadly, you do have to breathe. You’re the one that forces the stop, you’re sure he would have happily suffocated if it meant he could keep touching you like this. You pull back, the air coming in short pants between your parted lips. 
You can already feel them swelling, the slight irritation on your cheeks from his stubble. You don’t mind, you quite like the feeling. He speaks before you can, a pleased smile on his face. “Forgive me yet?”
You chuckle, a little impressed by how cheeky he is, still slightly pissed off. “Why don’t you do that again and I’ll think about it?”
He rolls his eyes but you can see the smile fighting against his firm glare. “You’re really gonna make me work for it, huh?”
You smile and nod, leaning into him again. “You’re never gonna hear the end of it,” you whisper before dipping down and kissing him again. You can’t believe you ever doubted just how much he cares for you. 
He didn’t choose Jean over you. He’s just a dumbass. 
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a/n: I had to resist putting in a “pick me, choose me, love me” line in there bc that would have just been too much lol
end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
General Taglist: @evasmlp
Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  
@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl ♡ 
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selfcarecap · 10 days
Text
Both
✧ Logan Howlett x reader x Storm
✧ summary: Storm and Logan are both hopelessly crushing on you. When they realise that they both like you, they get into a silent competition about who can win you over first… until they realise there might not be a need to make you choose; or: You have a threesome with Logan and Storm
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✧ warnings: smut 18+, threesome, oral, fingering, handjob, unprotected piv sex, creampie, liiittle bit of ass play, use of dildo between reader and Storm, I think those are the main things, reader is sub-ish and Logan and Storm are more dominant, reader gets called baby, good girl, princess, pretty girl, bub, nothing happens between Logan and Storm btw because I’m a jealous bitch, reader is shy and a bit awkward, this is definitely mostly porn but romantic feelings are implied too, reader is bi, talking about coming out, but reader is in denial about her crush on Storm and also on Logan bc she’s oblivious and a lil insecure tbh, mention of being drunk, they’re all mutants but it doesn’t rlly come up, Logan is taller than the reader, the part leading up to the smut is a little unserious lol they’re all just whipped but yeah it’s kind of a different fic from my prev Logan ones idk it’s more just fun for the first part; also alternative title is BOAF but I didn’t know how many people would get that lol
✧ word count: oh. umm 11k (the main smut is 4k at the end if you wanna skip to that loll I’ve put a divider (stars) so you know when it starts, you don’t necessarily need to know the backstory)
✧ note: Recently watched X-Men 1 for the first time (yeah i know) and these two are literally the definition of bi panic whaaaatttttt + also I called her Storm and not Ororo(?) because I’ve only watched X Men 1 where they just call her Storm so that’s the only way I’m familiar with her, so yeah idk if anyone else wants this combination of characters but i def do so <33
-
You’re focussed as you do your daily stretches, completely oblivious to Storm and Logan watching you from the other side of the gym. 
They stare as you bend down into downward dog and you make a little exhausted noise at the stretch. Logan almost flinches with how good it feels to hear it; with his enhanced senses it’s as if you’re moaning right into his ear.
Storm’s eyes trail up your legs, over your pink gym set that clings to you in all the right places. She watches a pearl of sweat slide down your belly – she wishes she could lick it off your skin. Logan thinks about making you sweat more if he finally gets you in his bed one day.
He clears his throat after you slide down to your knees, arch your spine and let out a little contented sigh at the welcome stretch. A movement to his right catches Logan’s eye. Storm is standing right next to him, hands on her hips, mirroring his own position.
Is she here to stare at you too? Not that that’s what he’s doing. He was training here himself and was done a few minutes after you got here. Resting his eyes is part of the cooldown – you just so happen to be in his view.
“You training today?” Logan breaks the silence.
“Trained earlier this morning,” Storm answers, folding her arms, “What’re you doing here?” She sounds almost accusatory.
“Just finished my workout. Making sure she’s fine with the weights.” Their eyes drift to you, still stretching.
“She said she might use weights later,” Logan adds, averting his eyes.
The only thing Logan doesn’t like about his little crush on you – if you can even call it that – (you can definitely call it that) is that it sometimes makes him nervous, even if just a little. You’re so sweet and so shy and you’re usually oblivious to his flirting. He’s not used to that.
“Aha,” Storm nods with suspicion and slowly walks out of the gym.
Logan sighs a breath of relief and hopes you didn’t hear any of that. He stops himself from looking at your cute little gym outfit again and leaves to shower.
-
Later that day, Storm knocks at your bedroom door, “I’ve made lunch if you want some.”
Her voice is so angelic, you think, and you briefly wonder if that’s a normal opinion to have about your friend. It’s not just her voice, but those pretty lips her voice comes out of – just from woman to woman. She has nice lips. That can totally be a platonic compliment.
You realise she’s waiting for you to answer as you just stare at her gorgeous, gorgeous face – okay, maybe you do like her as more than a friend.
“That’s so sweet of you, I’ll come join you,” you put on a high-pitched platonic voice.
You’re sitting down at the table getting your plates ready – Storm made your favourite food, said she was just craving the taste today – when Logan comes in. 
“Brought my own lunch, thought I could join you?” He asks but doesn’t wait for an answer, sitting down next to you. 
“What if you can’t?” Storm says, an eyebrow raised, though playfully. 
“And what would your explanation be?”
“We need girl time.”
You’re looking between them with wide puppy eyes. You’re not sure if they’re being playful after all. Their faces soften when they look at you.
“Maybe Logan can stay for lunch and we’ll go to your room later?” you suggest, “We can have a sleepover tonight.”
Storm’s face lights up, “Good idea.” You miss the smirk she gives Logan, who then huffs. 
Logan takes off his leather jacket. You’re sure that’s just your mind playing tricks on you but it almost looks as if he’s doing it deliberately slowly, showing off his big, defined arms. You’re drooling like a dog.
He reaches across the table and your eyes stay glued to his triceps until you hear your name.
“What?”
Logan smiles down at you, “I asked if you could pass the salt.”
You swallow and nod, eyes searching for the salt, but Storm gets there before you. She firmly presses the salt shaker into his hand, and his arm is gone from in front of your face. You resist the urge to pout.
A moment later though, Logan reaches out for the pepper himself, “Sorry, just needa…” He fumbles with the shaker across the table. This time his arm is angled differently and your eyes land right on one of those delicious veins on his skin. 
Storm is kind enough to pass him the pepper too, but this time you think you audibly sigh with frustration when Logan pulls his arm back to his body. You focus on eating instead of panicking about whether either of them heard that.
Storm swallows down her jealousy after watching you mesmerised by Logan’s arms for what felt like an eternity with no idea how obvious you were being.
She finishes her glass of water and gets up to get more. She looks at Logan as she walks to the sink. Two can play this game.
With her back turned to the both of you, Storm undoes the top two buttons of her shirt and places the pendant of her necklace right between her breasts. When she sits back down, she leans her elbow on the table and pushes her forearm right against the side of her tits. Your eyes are immediately drawn to them like a honeybee to a flower.
Storm bites back a smirk. She remains silent so as not to pull your attention away from her cleavage. She wants you to get lost there as long as you need to.
Logan rolls his eyes at her and asks you to pass some food from across the table, pulling you out of your trance.
You see the next exchange of looks between the two of them – their eyes do all the talking. You look away and realise… are they flirting? You thought they were mad at each other, having a silent argument, but now you think you might have been wrong. They’re teasing each other. 
You can’t decide if you should be jealous or turned on. They’re the two people you have a crush on – again, platonic crushes, obviously. If they got together, in whatever way, at least they’d make a hot couple for you to stare at. But you’d also be devastated that it’s not you who gets to be with either of them.
A quiet sound catches your attention – Storm’s fingernail against her necklace, the necklace that’s nestled right between her breasts. You briefly wonder if she’s trying to get Logan’s attention with it, but in that moment you don’t feel jealous. You just appreciate what’s in front of you.
With your elbow perched on the table, you’re leaning your head against your hand, and you notice too late that your arm is sliding off the table. You gasp when your head loses its support and you sit up quickly, gaze pulled away from Storm.
Heat blooms on your face and you lift your glass of water to your mouth to cool yourself down. But the picture of Storm’s perfect boobs lingers in your mind and you spill half of the water. It rolls down your neck and to your chest, and before you can even consider drying off, Storm’s holding a folded up napkin to your skin, patting from your collarbones to the neckline of your low-cut top. 
“Awh, there you go,” she’s done patting you dry and gives you a reassuring smile. Your nipples get hard at the close contact. You hope she doesn’t notice.
You hear a scoff from Logan. Maybe he got something stuck in his teeth. Or maybe it’s directed at you and Storm.
“Thanks, Storm,” you smile your sweet smile and finish your meal. 
But you’re not oblivious to what’s going on between them – the looks they’re giving each other – and you don’t know if you like it yet. Not that your opinion matters, sadly.
-
You bring your own pillow to Storm’s bedroom that night for your sleepover, but she’s got her bed made up all comfy with more pillows than you could need.
“Didn’t know how many you needed,” Storm tells you from in front of her mirror, “I’m so happy we’re doing this. We haven’t had any alone time in so long. Been so busy.”
She’s braiding her hair for the night, hair pulled to one side as she curls the bottom of her strands around her finger, her beautiful neck now exposed. You think about falling to your knees and begging for just one touch. Maybe draw your finger across her skin, or better yet – your lips. The way friends do. 
It’s between the first and second film that you decide to finally say something. You were going to ask her during a boring scene of the romcom you just watched but it suddenly turned into a sex scene. You did your best to seem unbothered and tried to move naturally, scratching your head and flexing your wrist. You’re not sure if it worked.
“Soo,” you turn to your side to face Storm as the credits play, “You and Logan?”
You reach into the bag of gummy bears between you and Storm, attempting to seem nonchalant, as if her answer won’t affect you.
She looks a little panicked, and you’re afraid you know what her answer is going to be.
“What about us?” she asks.
You give her a suggestive look but she waits for you to say it.
“Well, is there something going on between you two? I felt like you were flirting during lunch.”
“No, not at all,” she says almost too quickly, “We’re just friends, if that.”
“Really? You’d make an attractive couple.”
She lowers her voice, “We’re really not into each other like that.” You believe her, and withhold your big breath of relief.
“And anyway, I prefer women,” she adds.
“Really? I mean, yeah, I thought you might. I wasn’t sure. I do too, by the way. Well, I like everyone. I mean not everyone obviously but I like all genders. Not that that’s relevant.”
Storm smiles at you sweetly and puts a soft hand on your wrist. “Of course it’s relevant. I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me.”
You giggle nervously, “Of course. I trust you more than anyone in this house.”
Storm’s heart swells in her chest.
You continue, “Well, and Logan obviously.” 
Oh.
Obvious, is it?
Well, Storm can work with that.
She picks an incredibly gay film next. She didn’t do it on purpose. She just happened to see the film on Netflix. Sure, perhaps she chose it because there were two women in the picture, but she genuinely wasn’t aware how much sex was in the film.
You’re squirming beside her, even more than during the straight romcom you just watched, and it drives her crazy. She’s just better at hiding it, but she’s turned on too. She wishes she and Logan hadn’t fought over your attention during lunch; if you hadn’t thought that there was something going on between them you might have been ready for more tonight. But she ignores her desire for you, holding her arm tightly as she presses her nails against her skin to relieve some pressure.
When the film is over, Storm tells you how she realised she likes women. When she was little, she had a crush on her babysitter, and ever since then she just knew. You grow bashful when she asks you for your story.
“Uh, Halle Berry as Catwoman? That did it for me,” you tell her as your cheeks heat up. Storm only vaguely remembers the film, but she still has in mind that all of her friends told her that the main character looked like her. 
It’s not that she didn’t know you were attracted to her before, but that solidifies it. Now she just has to get rid of Logan.
-
Storm is busy the next day and you miss her presence the entire morning. You woke up before her, your hands still intertwined from when you fell asleep like that, and – like a fucking loser idiot – you imagined what it was like to be her girlfriend and wake up next to her every day.
Now that you know she doesn’t like Logan, you can fantasise about being with her again without the jealousy looming underneath if he got her before you. And she didn’t just say she wasn’t attracted to him (which is crazy) but that they’re both not into each other (which is crazy of Logan). Both of your crushes are safe.
You decide to try out a new stretching routine to distract yourself from how much you’re missing Storm, your bestie who has no idea how much you like her. The positions are nothing you can’t do, but they’re definitely more challenging than your usual.
Logan’s not expecting to see you when he enters the gym; you’re not normally here at this time.
“Hi,” he says. Your head is between your legs as you’re bent upside down. He crouches down to smile at you from between your thighs.
You grin, standing up to turn towards him to say hello. 
“Y’need some help?” He asks. It’s more of a rhetorical question, he’s being polite.
“Actually, there’s this stretch I can’t get into. I think I should be able to do it, but I just need someone to help push me there.”
Logan huffs out a laugh. This is like the porn he plays in his head every night with you and him in the starring roles. “Of course. Where do you want me?”
-
It’s even better than he could have dreamed. He thought you’d need him to hold your hands and pull to add some resistance, but now you’re bent over in front of him and he’s pushing you into a stretch like a pervy gym instructor. 
You keep letting out these little huffs every time you ask Logan to push you further. They sound awfully close to moans. His knee is pressing into the back of yours like you asked him to but you keep asking for more.
He changes up his position, standing behind you fully. If he moved even an inch forward you’d feel his cock pushing against your ass. Logan would usually feel like he’s taking advantage with all the thoughts running through his mind about little innocent you but you’re the one arching even further into him.
He thanks himself for his level of self control and how he manages not to get hard with your pretty ass pressed up against him. It fuels the animalistic side of him and he wants nothing more than to fuck you right here, right now.
It was obvious that you were attracted to him before, but with the way you’re pushing back against his crotch makes him realise that it’s far from innocent.
“Thank you, that felt really good,” you tell him when you stand back up, losing balance after hanging your head upside down for so long. You use Logan’s chest to brace yourself, palms against the hard muscles there. His hands fly to your waist as he makes sure you’re alright. You nod shyly and, with another quick thanks, quickly make your way to your bathroom.
He’s got you. Now he just has to get rid of Storm, and she’s really good with you.
-
You check in Storm’s room after a long shower, but she’s still out. You find Logan in the kitchen; he’s looking through the almost empty cabinets. 
“Wanna go shopping?”
-
You didn’t think grocery shopping could turn you on, but everything Logan does makes you want to rip off his clothes. 
The little things fuel your crush in more heart-warming ways. Like how he picks all your favourite foods, holds the package up to you to ask for approval and places them into the cart that he’s pushing along with one hand as if it’s not full to the brim. 
He’s got it all down even to the most obscure snacks you like. It’s sweet that he remembers and it makes you as dizzy as you felt during your sleepover with Storm. It’s not like you really have a chance with either of them, if you’re being honest with yourself, so you’re fine liking them both.
But it’s his touch that drives you crazy. 
You’re trying to reach a snack on the top shelf. You’re on your tiptoes and your fingertips are only an inch or so away from it. Just when you’re about to give up, you feel two strong hands on your waist, lifting you that tiny bit with no effort at all. 
��There you go,” Logan smiles down at you, taking the package from you and putting it in the cart. Your body still buzzes with the sparks of his touch. 
You’re not very helpful for the rest of the shopping trip. All you’re doing is staring at him. You almost fall to your knees when he reaches up to the top shelf and his shirt lifts a bit. You think seeing even just a tiny sliver of his abs might be the highlight of your day, until you remember how he was pushed up against you during your stretches earlier. 
God, you’re so into him. 
-
Storm finds Logan as soon as she gets home. She hasn’t had a chance to talk to him since your revelation yesterday yet.
“She’s in her bedroom,” Logan tells Storm when she comes in, assuming she’s looking for you.
“I need to talk to you,” she crosses her arms, “She told me yesterday that she thinks we’re into each other.”
Logan cringes, “What, us two? Is she blind?”
“Apparently. I told her that it’s not like that but I don’t know if she believed it. She thought we were flirting with each other at lunch the other day instead of with her.”
“Alright, we just need to stop making it so obvious we’re fighting over her. Let’s just not get in each other’s way and she’ll choose whoever she’ll choose.”
“Yeah,” Storm agrees.
Logan smiles, “I can’t believe that stunt you pulled when she spilled the water. I mean, come on, that was so unfair, I can’t just press a napkin to her tits.”
She laughs, “Okay Mister Bicep, we both have our benefits.” They smile at each other.
Storm huffs, and reluctantly admits: “I wish she looked at me the way she looks at your abs.”
“I wish she looked at me the way she looks at your chest.”
They’re standing next to each other now, staring at nothing, consumed by thoughts of you. They’re so into you.
“When did you realise you like her?” Storm asks.
“I don’t remember an exact moment but it’s just, her gorgeous fucking face. And her whole clumsy thing just does it for me, I don’t know.”
“I like it too. She’s so adorable when she gets all awkward.”
“It makes me want to fuck her so bad,” they say at the same time, then laugh quietly.
Logan clears his throat, “Not to be crude but I’d fuck all that nervousness out of her.”
“Me too. Until she’s so exhausted she can’t even begin to overthink anything.”
They exchange a look – this is getting too heated.
“May the best one win,” Logan concludes, and with a last nod at each other, they both leave the kitchen.
-
It’s a mutual friend’s birthday that week, and all three of you are going to the party.
You’re walking to your room the evening of the party, and Logan opens his bedroom door just as you’re walking past it.
“Hey, you got a minute?” Logan asks, “I need help with my outfit.”
You smile. It’s an excuse to stare at Logan, of course you’ll help.
He changes his shirt about five times – even though there are only two that he can’t decide between. But every time he changes his top, there are a few seconds in which he’s half naked – his muscular, hairy, gorgeous chest and abs exposed, with that thick happy trail reminding you why it’s called that – and you forget all about what the previous shirt looked like.
You watch him change yet another time, quietly sighing to yourself because at some point you have to decide. You watch him button up his shirt and let your eyes roam over the lower part of his body. 
His trousers are hugging his legs so deliciously, they must be tailored. And that sexy belt he always wears keeps sparkling with the reflection of the light, as if you’re not staring at his crotch enough anyway.
“So this one?” Logan asks. 
“Y-yeah,” you nod, as if he doesn’t look equally good in both shirts anyway. 
“What do you think of the material?” He asks. You smile, getting up to feel it. 
You place your hand on the side of his arm, trailing down it, feeling his muscles while you pretend to be feeling the shirt. 
“I like how it feels,” Logan says, looking down at himself and rubbing his fingers over his clothed chest. You follow, bringing your palm to his collarbone to trace his body, from his chest to his lower abs. 
“It does feel nice,” you say. It’s a normal dress shirt, made from whatever material they’re usually made of, but with the warmth of Logan’s body it’s one of the best things you’ve ever felt. 
Distracted by his body, you don’t realise Logan looking down at you, tracing your every feature with his eyes. He can practically see the water pooling in your mouth, and he doesn’t need his enhanced senses to know that you want him in this moment. 
He clears his throat and it makes you lose your balance, gripping Logan’s shirt to steady yourself as his hands fly to your waist. 
“Careful, bub,” he smiles and you feel the heat on your cheeks. How can this man make you stumble without even moving?
“Are you gonna wear a tie?” you ask quietly — you can’t trust your voice right now. 
“I’ve got one here,” Logan passes it to you. He feels like a tie might be a bit too formal for a birthday, but he won’t stop you from staying close. 
You go on your tiptoes to drape the tie around his neck, nervously fiddling with the fabric. “Actually, uh, I don’t know how to tie a tie,” you admit, giggling at your own words. 
“That’s okay, bub, I’ll show you.” 
You don’t retain any information as Logan helps you with his tie, guiding your fingers with his big, warm hands over yours. 
Your breaths intertwine from standing so close, and you don’t even realise that you’re on your tiptoes again, trying to get as close to Logan as possible. 
You know that he can hear how fast your heart is beating, but when his tie is on and you smooth it down against his chest, you feel his own heart beating wildly against his ribcage. 
Logan looks into your eyes, a soft smile on his lips, and you know what’s going to happen. You’re about to kiss. 
He gently places his hand on the side of your face, leaning in. 
Just when your lips are about to touch, you hear Storm calling out your name from the hallway. 
“Uh, Storm was gonna do my make-up,” you stutter, Logan’s hand still on your face. He silently drops it and smiles sadly, “yeah,” he says. 
He moves back to stand in front of the mirror, taking the tie off again, “Think this is too much.”
You nod, “yeah. Sure. I’ll see you later.”
You walk out of Logan’s room with a weird feeling, but as soon as you get to Storm’s room it’s like nothing just happened. 
It smells so good in her bedroom, a mix of her perfume and hair products and her clean bed sheets. She smiles at you, patting the bed for you to sit next to her. 
You close the door behind you, creating a space for just the two of you. It always feels like that when you’re with her, even when there are other people around. Except for Logan maybe; he’s the only one who can get in without even trying — but it’s still different when it’s really just the two of you. 
You’re immediately lost in the world of beautiful Storm as she presents to you her outfit for the night; it fits her every curve and contour and you briefly wonder how you could ever think of her as nothing more than a friend. It breaks your heart that she only sees you as one, but it doesn’t stop the desire you have for her and the joy you feel when you’re around her.
Storm does your make-up on her bed, both of you sitting cross-legged with your knees touching. Her hand is placed gently on your face as she does your eyeshadow.
“You’re so naturally beautiful,” she tells you in her calm voice, “Don’t really need any of this.”
You feel your heart beating wildly in your chest. She just means it as a friend, she just means it as a friend.
You gulp, “Wish I looked like you. You’re so gorgeous.”
She smiles at you softly, “Thank you, but you’re perfect like this. Lips.” You open your mouth slightly so that she can apply your lipgloss for you. Even though she’s using the applicator, it feels as intimate as if it were her finger.
She called you perfect.
Your eyes go down to her lips and you realise she hasn’t put any product on her own lips yet. You’re not sure what comes over you at your next question.
“You want some too?” you ask, breathless, staring at her lips. Even though you’re not looking into her eyes, you can see her looking down at your lips and she smiles a beautiful, sexy smile and nods.
Storm briefly presses her lips to yours, the way straight girls sometimes do at parties – except that neither of you are straight and you’re not at a party, and you doubt that straight friends feel like this after kissing each other. You pull away instinctively, you don’t want her thinking that you could ever even assume that she likes you like that. You’re just friends, and you know that.
Still, you can’t resist reaching out a finger to swipe the excess product over the top of her lip, and you let out a nervous giggle when you notice that her eyes are still on your lips.
An alarm on your phone interrupts you; you set it for 20 minutes before you have to leave to make sure you have everything. You didn’t notice how close you and Storm were until you both pulled away at the noise. 
The alert pulls you out of your Storm induced warm cloud, an uncomfortable feeling settling on your skin. Being the good friend she is, Storm realises immediately.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, a soft hand on your arm.
“Nothing, I just get nervous about these types of parties sometimes. There’ll be so many people I don’t know, and it’ll be so big and loud. I was thinking of taking a shot or something.”
Storm smiles, “Not that I’m against a little shot for courage, but d’you wanna know something natural that always helps me calm down?”
“Mhm, what is it?”
“I feel like a nice orgasm always makes me calmer. Just a quick one with my fingers or a vibrator.”
Her words knock the air out of you. Somehow, you manage to respond. “I’ve always wanted to use toys but I don’t have any. I should really get one,” you chuckle nervously.
“I’m happy to share one of mine if you don’t mind,” she looks deep into your eyes and all you can do is nod your head pathetically. There are some types of thoughts you’ve done your hardest not to let into your head – she’s your friend, she wouldn’t want you thinking about her like that – and now she’s the one putting them there on purpose.
She twists her lips, almost.. nervously? and, in a low voice, says: “You think an orgasm right now would help you?”
Again, you don’t manage to say any words but you do nod your head, biting your lip. 
“You wanna do it yourself or can I stay?” she asks, one shoulder pulled up seductively.
“S-stay,” you stutter.
“I could eat you out if you want, but no pressure. I just feel like that’s the quickest way.”
You take a deep breath. All kinds of thoughts are shooting through your head, but maybe she’s just horny. During your sleepover the other day, she told you how she hasn’t had sex in a while, and how she gets off on making her partners come, so maybe it’s just a natural desire that she wants to make someone other than herself come again for once. It’s got nothing to do with you, you know that, but you revel in the knowledge that she at least finds you attractive enough to want to make you come, even if it’s just as a friend.
You’re also confused. Your ex always took hours to make you come with his mouth, but, still, you believe every word coming from Storm’s pretty lips.
You nod, “Ye-yeah. If that’s okay with you. That’s a very uh, very nice, friendly favour.” You have to make sure she knows that you’re not delusional, thinking this is more than friendly. 
As you squirm in your seat, you miss Storm’s little sigh of frustration at your oblivion. Instead of pitying herself, she decides she’ll show you why you should be more than friends.
“Y’ready?” she asks, blessing your ears with her bedroom voice.
“Yes,” you breathe. 
Your next breath catches in your throat as Storm leans in to press the most gentle kiss you’ve ever experienced to the side of your neck. She’s warm and soft and smells like heaven.
Her lips slowly press along your pulse point, the tip of her tongue darting out as she makes her way up to your ear. Her teeth scrape along your earlobe, but she doesn’t bite. You almost whimper when her warm mouth is gone from your ear.
Storm slides her hand to your jaw, moving her thumb to your lower lip, “May I?”
You nod quickly, and she pulls your lower lip down, sliding her thumb into your mouth to wet it.
You suck on her thumb, mouth watering at having her so close. Storm takes her hand away from your face with a satisfied hum and gently folds your skirt up to your hips, pulling your panties to the side.
She giggles, “y’got such cute underwear.” You look down and remember the panties you decided to put on today – pink underwear with cherries and a red lace trim. You weren’t expecting anyone to see it, let alone Storm. Before you have time to get embarrassed, her thumb is on your clit.
You gasp at the first contact, and your knees buckle. You’re glad you’re already sitting down. She goes to kneel on her soft carpet, sitting down between your legs.
Her breath is on your pussy and you feel yourself clenching around nothing.
“What a pretty fucking pussy,” Storm whispers, more to herself, and impatiently pulls your underwear out of the way more harshly, making sure it stays there. She looks up at you from between your legs, pushing your knees up to your chest, and you bite your lip.
This doesn’t feel so friendly anymore. Unless she just gets off on making her pretty friends come.
Storm sucks her thumb into her mouth to wet it again and begins to gently rub your clit in circles. She realises how wet you already are and smiles, leaning in to press a kiss to your clit. 
“There you go,” she says quietly, and then puts her mouth on you. She runs her tongue through your folds and she’s so gentle. You’re torn between enjoying it and wanting more.
“Feels so good,” you mumble, and Storm grips the flesh of your thigh to hold you still. 
She smiles against you, “Yeah?” and brings her middle and ring finger to your pussy. Licking your clit, she pushes two fingers into you, slowly making her way inside even though you’re more than wet enough.
Your pussy makes a squelching sound against her fingers as she begins to fuck into you, curling her fingers up to rub against your g-spot. You gasp when you first feel her there, your head dropping to the side in pleasure as you moan.
She pulls her fingers out to suck them into her mouth, tasting you with a satisfied hum, “Taste so good, baby.” You get even wetter at that name alone, squirming beneath her gaze.
“Be a good girl for me and stay still, okay?” she asks, mouth connecting with your pussy again as she looks up at you. You nod desperately, hoping she can’t feel the intense heat spreading over your face down to your chest.
She slides two fingers back into you, fucking you gently but precisely, and you already feel the excitement building up in your belly. Storm’s tongue dances over your clit, exactly how you need it to. The only thing missing now is just a liittle more friction.
It’s like she can read your mind, continuing to fuck into your wet pussy at a steady pace, as she begins to suck on your clit. You see stars immediately.
Her mouth has been on you for only a few minutes when she’s got you coming on her tongue and fingers. You whimper her name as you arch your back, hips chasing her face to prolong your orgasm as it crashes over you in waves.
She pulls her fingers out and rubs your clit for a bit longer until you’re squirming again, patting your pussy before she gets up. “Good”, she simply says, biting her lip.
“You feel better?” she smiles at you, innocently sucking your arousal off her fingers as if it’s something she’s done a million times before. As if it’s a normal thing to do with a friend.
“Yeah, much better,” you smile shyly, wondering how to ask her what that was.
She sits down right next to you, pulling your panties and skirt back in place, keeping her hand on your thigh afterwards. She smiles at you, and it feels so intimate. Storm reaches for the lipgloss again, “It’s all wiped away. Here.”
You smile and let her apply the lipgloss again. Storm places a hand on the bed next to your hip to lean in as she does so. She puts the lipgloss away but stays close. She looks at your lips. Your heart starts beating furiously in your chest – she’s about to kiss you.
This time it’s Logan who interrupts you. He calls out your name from the hallway, it’s time to leave.
Storm sits back, “you ready?”
“Yeah,” you nod. She takes your hand as you leave her room. You don’t let go even when you see Logan, his eyes immediately finding your intertwined hands.
He doesn’t know what it means. There are plenty of platonic girlfriends that hold hands. 
You don’t know what it means either, but you know you like the feeling.
-
You don’t mean to get drunk but that’s kind of what happens when you subconsciously try to keep up with mutants with healing factors that make it almost impossible for them to get drunk.
You arrived at the party still hand-in-hand with Storm and spent the first half joined at the hip with her. Logan couldn’t even get you alone for a second because every time one of you left for the bathroom the other went too without hesitation.
Logan finally finds you alone in the kitchen, looking for another drink.
“Y’sure you should have more to drink?” he smiles.
You notice him then, “Logan!” you run over to hug him.
Being drunk makes you more affectionate.
“Can you mix me a drink?” you ask Logan, his arm still around your waist. It feels good there.
“Maybe you want water for now?”
You pout at him drunkenly, taking a step back and folding your arms, “You’re just jealous you can’t get drunk. Doesn’t mean I’m not allowed to.”
Logan lifts his arms in defence, “‘Course you’re allowed to, bub. Just making sure you’re up for it. What do you want?”
-
You, Logan and Storm end up in the living room at the mansion. You’ve been very entertaining in your drunk state but, more importantly, you decided to hold one of their hands each in your lap in the back of the car on the way home. They know you get like this when you drink, and they’d never try anything with you like this, of course. But they could have a bit of harmless fun.
It’s your idea to play never have I ever, but the two of them are just as happy to. You’re playing the game with water instead of alcohol, but that’s probably better for you anyway.
Storm and Logan resist the urge to make the game sexual; they’re unsure what you’d be comfortable with if you were sober. You’re the one who makes it explicit.
“Never have I ever…” you’re leaning the bottle of water against your cheek to cool yourself down, “had a threesome.”
The room is immediately struck with tension. Logan and Storm exchange a look that you miss. How have they not thought of this before? 
You look at them expectantly.
It’s a perfectly innocent statement – well, innocent in a way that you’re not implying anything to them specifically. Even in your wildest thoughts you’ve only fantasised about one of them at a time. 
Your eyes are on Storm but she shakes her head. Logan drinks. He shrugs, “Been alive for so long, you try some things.”
You’re torn between arousal and jealousy, but settle on arousal. You forget all about the game.
“I’m not that experienced,” you tell them honestly, “I’d love to experiment a bit but I get shy. Not that I’m– um, not a threesome necessarily. I’m just saying.” You clear your throat, averting your eyes.
“How many people have you been with?” Storm asks, voice soft.
You swallow, unsure whether to count her or not. Does it count if it was with a friend? “Just my ex boyfriend.”
“There’s been no one else?” Logan asks, and you shake your head in embarrassment.
“I told you I’m shy.”
“Nothing wrong with being shy,” he says, “It can be endearing. Don’t you think, Storm?”
When you turn to her, her eyes are already on you, “I agree.”
Your face feels hot and you’re suddenly nervous. They’re both flirting with you, if the alcohol isn’t deceiving you, and you don’t know who you like more. You think of some stupid ‘never have I ever’ statement to change the topic. They do you the favour of playing along.
It’s not long until you all go to bed, going your separate ways but not without a long hug from both of them.
-
The next morning, Logan and Storm meet in front of your room. She’s made breakfast for you and he’s brought you water and some aspirin.
“I should have thought of that,” they say at the same time. Logan knocks at your door.
“It’s us,” Storm says after another knock.
You’re not in your bedroom.
They look for you in the entire mansion, but you’re not there.
“Maybe she’s walking off her hangover,” Logan shrugs, starting to eat the food Storm made for you as they’re standing in the kitchen.
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They don’t see you all day.
Storm’s in the kitchen in the evening, starting to worry. She knows you’re not far, and you can handle yourself, but she’s worried you’re embarrassed about what you said when you were drunk, or regretting what you did before the party yesterday.
There are footsteps coming down the hallway, and she knows it’s you before you’re there.
“Hey,” she smiles when she sees you.
“Hi.”
“Haven’t seen you all day.”
“Sorry,” you sit down next to her, a shy smile on your face, “Didn’t mean to disappear. I just needed to think.”
Storm breathes. “Yeah, that’s okay. What were you thinking about?” Her heart starts beating faster.
“Well, I’ve been thinking about what Logan said yesterday. And I don’t know if I’m misinterpreting things and I don’t want to make anything awkward between us or anything…” you look at her in worry, and she takes your hand. She’s not sure what you mean but she knows you need her encouragement to say it. 
You continue, “I don’t know but maybe… maybe Logan could show us what a threesome is like?”
All the worry on your face melts away when Storm grips your hand tighter and gets up. She grins as she pulls you upstairs.
She walks you to Logan’s room and, without knocking, pushes his door open, “My bedroom. Right now.” He follows you without question. 
“Lock the door behind you,” Storm tells Logan when you’re all in her bedroom. Your skin is on fire.
“Whats’s going on?” Logan has his arms folded, a smile playing on his lips.
His eyes are on you but you look over at Storm, who just smirks.
“Are you gonna make me say it again?” you ask, horrified.
“You got this, baby,” she tells you, and hearing her call you that again gives you courage.
You look at the floor, “Uh, I don’t know if you two want to do that with me but. I was thinking maybe we could, like, have, um, a threesome?” You were a lot smoother in your head.
Logan raises his eyebrows, “You don’t know if we want to do that with you? You tellin’ me you haven’t noticed what’s been goin’ on, bub?” He’s right in front of you now, hands holding your face.
“Uh…” you know he can feel your skin heating up under his fingers.
“Want you so fucking bad. Both of us,” Logan nods towards Storm.
“Oh.”
(Logan decides this isn’t the time to tell you that his threesome was with two guys.)
They both grin at each other and Logan walks you to Storm’s bed. They sit down on either side of you – you don’t even know where to look. You don’t know who to kiss first.
Storm makes the decision for you, gently turning your head towards her. You lean in without another word.
This time you get more than a peck. Her mouth is hungry and wet against yours, her lips soft. You’re kissing messily and loudly, and you do your best not getting on top of her yet. You pull away only because Logan’s there too.
“Been dying to do that since last night,” you smile.
“I know,” Storm giggles, “Knew you appreciated my friendly favour.” You hide your face in her neck at her teasing. You’re not sure how you could be so stupid. Now you know it’s more than friendship.
“What’s that?” Logan asks, an eyebrow raised.
You bite your lip, “We’ll tell you later.”
Before he can question it, you pull Logan closer by his shirt. His kisses are rougher, but not in a bad way. His beard scratches against your cheek with the desperation in his kisses, and he’s pulling you closer. You moan into his mouth as his tongue slips between your lips, and you grab a fistful of his shirt.
Storm starts kissing the side of your neck, the way she did last night, and you’re so lost in pleasure that you stop kissing Logan.
“Too hot,” you mumble, pulling off your top absentmindedly. They both stop what they’re doing.
“You wear stuff like this all the time?” Logan smirks, finger slipping under your bra strap. You forgot about the lingerie you put on for them.
You shake your head, “Thought we might do this tonight.”
Logan grins and starts kissing your shoulder, pulling one of your bra straps down with his teeth. Storm turns your head back to her and kisses you again – gentle, teasing pecks from her soft lips to yours. She kisses over your cheek and your jaw, begins to gently nibble on your earlobe.
Logan pauses when his mouth is at your wrist, “You know, bub, the problem with pretty lingerie like this is that it ends up coming off again real quick.”
You’re already so horny from two pairs of lips on you that you can barely speak. “Doesn’t sound like a problem to me at all,” you mumble. 
“Can we take it off, baby?” Storm asks.
“Please.”
You feel Storm’s fingers at your back, opening your bra, and Logan is the one who pulls it off. 
They both sigh when they see your tits for the first time, moving to the breast closest to them. Logan thumbs over your nipple, gently playing with it while Storm wraps her lips around your other nipple. You feel yourself getting so wet. 
“H-how about—” you take a deep breath to calm yourself down, “how about you take your clothes off too.”
“How about you take them off?” Storm bites her lip. 
You nod quickly, lifting her top over her head to find her bare underneath. You trace your hands over her perfect tits, cupping them as your thumbs rub over her nipples and she lets out the sweetest moan. 
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Logan moving to take off his shirt so you quickly turn to him, grabbing hold of his shirt to do it yourself while Storm stands up to take off her trousers. 
You pull off Logan’s shirt and, even though you’ve seen him shirtless before, you’re mesmerised by the muscles and the hair and how good he looks. 
“Y’like what you see, bub?” He smirks and you bite your lip, resisting kissing him. You move on to his belt, trying to ignore how Logan gropes your tits as you get him naked except for his boxers. 
Storm sits between your legs, helping you out of your trousers and you all move to the middle of the bed. You’re panting before anything has even started, “Sorry, it’s just cause I’m excited,” you breathe, grinning with anticipation. 
“It’s okay,” Storm kisses you behind your ear. 
“So are we, bub,” Logan tells you, moving to press his lips to the side of your neck. He kisses further up, to your jaw, while Storm’s lips ghost over your collarbone on your other side. 
Excitement builds up in your belly, your skin tingling all over. You kiss whoever is closer to you – it’s Logan – and start making out with him. The only way to accurately describe the kiss is to say that it’s sloppy. Logan’s devouring you, licking your lips and into your mouth. 
You carefully feel for Storm’s face and don’t stop kissing Logan until she’s right next to you too so you can kiss her instead. She puts a hand behind your neck to pull you in, and you lean your hand on Logan’s leg to steady yourself. 
When your hand moves just an inch, you feel how hard he is, and how big. You force yourself to pull away from Storm, your lips already kissed raw.
Logan’s thigh tenses under your hand, “How are we gonna do this?”
“Don’t know, just wanna cum,” you say. You don’t want to seem petulant, but you’ve never been this turned on in your life. Your underwear is soaked through and it almost hurts how badly you need to be fucked right now.
“We got you, baby,” Logan says, “Can I take these off?” He starts to pull at the waistband of your panties where they hug your hip, and you nod quickly.
Storm gets up to walk to her nightstand, but you can’t focus on her too. Your mind is on Logan all but ripping your panties down your legs, discarding them somewhere on the carpet. 
He takes your knees to push your thighs up to your chest as you lie down, your head supported by a pillow.
“God, look at you. So fucking pretty. Look at her, Storm,” Logan says, spreading you open for him to take all of you in.
Storm smirks at Logan, “I know.”
You feel Logan’s eyes going between you and her, but she’s leaning down to kiss you so all of your senses are taken over by her.
“Got this just for you, baby,” Storm stops kissing you, pulling something out of the drawer of her nightstand. She’s holding a pink, soft silk bag, “Had a feeling you might want to play.” She pulls out a pink dildo, and you bite your lip as she kisses you again.
Logan asks you something twice before you register what he’s saying, lightly squeezing your ankle to get your attention.
“Huh?” you pull away from the kiss.
“Can I eat your pussy?”
You nod, “But I want you inside me.”
Logan smiles, “Alright, just let me get a taste first. Been dying to know how you taste.”
Storm lies down next to you on her stomach to kiss you some more. Her lips trail over your shoulders and move up to your neck.
Logan bends down so his face is between your legs, and he shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re so wet already, bub. So fucking pretty,” he smiles, moving to lick all the way up your pussy once. 
“Here,” he pulls your legs over his shoulders as he settles between them. He pushes two of his thick fingers into your pussy and puts his mouth on you. His tongue on you is fast and skilled, but you still need more.
“‘S not enough,” you whine, and Logan looks up, smiling.
“Need me inside?” he asks, wiping his mouth that’s smeared with you with the back of his hand. You nod, staring in awe as he finally takes off his boxers and you get to see his hard cock in all its glory.
“Y’gonna be okay, bub? It’s kinda big,” he teases. You can see that. But all you can do is keep staring with an open mouth and nod. Storm wipes some spit from the corner of your mouth and gives you a quick kiss.
“You got this, baby,” she tells you, cupping one of your tits while she strokes over your hair with her other hand.
“Yeah,” you say, eyes not leaving Logan’s cock.
“You ready?” he asks, bending down to give you a long, wet kiss.
“Mhmm, need it so bad.”
He chuckles as he spreads your legs for him again, rubbing the tip of his cock along your pussy. It’s so wet you can hear it.
Logan slowly pushes inside you, and you gasp when he fills you up. He’s big, but the pleasure outweighs the pain.
“Theeere you go, bub. So fucking tight f’me. Taking me so well,” he starts to thrust into you in a gentle rhythm, fucking you deep but pacing himself.
It takes you a few moments to get used to his size, but Storm’s kisses at your neck help you ease into it. You can’t believe this is happening – you never would have thought you’d be with either of them, especially not with both and at the same time.
“Feels so good,” you moan weakly, pulling Storm to kiss you again. You whine when she lets go, but she’s sitting up at your side again soon, holding the dildo. You nod before she’s even said anything.
“Let me,” she leans over to Logan, who pulls out of you. Storm fucks your pussy with the cool silicone for just a moment, and it’s wet with your arousal when she brings it up to your chest. 
She teases you first, rubbing the wet tip of the dildo over your nipples, trailing it up your chest and over your cheek, smearing your own arousal over your face. You bite your lip in frustration, and look down to see Logan jerking off to the sight of you spread out for him. You can’t decide who of them you need more.
You’re salivating just at the thought of Storm fucking your mouth with the toy, and you hum when she rubs it across your lips.
“Close your mouth, baby,” Storm says when you’re about to take it in your mouth. She leans over you and lets her spit drop onto your mouth, smiling as she trails the tip of the dildo around your mouth, your lips desperately parting for it.
“Here, baby,” she says finally, pushing the dildo past your lips. You moan around it, taking the silicone as deep as you can. 
Storm fucks your mouth with it and all it’s doing is making you even more horny. The sound of Logan’s slicked hand on his cock stops, and he’s grabbing your thighs to spread them more, finally fucking you again. This time his pace is rougher, and it’s exactly what you need.
Storm’s wet lips are on your jaw as she continues to push the toy in and out of your mouth as you suck on it eagerly. She bites her lip as she leans over you to watch you, pushing the dildo in just a bit more.
“Doing such a good job, baby,” she hums, holding your chin.
“Yeah, being such a good girl for us,” Logan rasps, voice hoarse as he fucks you, “Look so fucking sexy with your lips wrapped around a cock.” You know he can feel your pussy clench around him at his words and he smirks, rubbing your clit with his thumb.
As you focus back on the cock in your mouth, you notice that Storm’s free hand is down her panties, and you can see her getting worked up too, a bead of sweat rolling down the valley of her tits.
You hum around the dildo and she pulls it out. “Wanna eat your pussy,” you tell her, voice almost whiny.
She smiles, sitting up to pull down her underwear. You reach out to touch the flesh of her thigh, and all you want to do is taste her.
You get up, disregarding how Logan slips out of you as you turn around to get on all fours. Storm sits down in front of you, leaning against the headboard.
“I’ve never done this,” you tell her, leaning down with your ass in the air. Logan positions your hips so he can rub the tip of his cock through your folds, and you take a moment to close your eyes and focus back on Storm.
“That’s okay, baby,” she tells you, “I know you’ll do well.”
You nod eagerly as you spread her legs, leaning in to press a kiss to her clit. You’re addicted as soon as you taste her. You open your mouth wider to lick up all of her that you can, attaching your mouth to Storm’s pussy like you never want to let go.
Her hand goes to the top of your head, careful not to mess up your hair as she spreads her knees wider to accommodate you between them.
You lick at Storm’s clit, tongue trailing down to taste her some more. You revel in the sounds she makes when you start to make out with her pussy, all but putting your face in it.
It’s then that Logan begins to fuck you again, pushing his dick all the way inside your wet pussy. He’s rocking into you so much that it makes your whole body move forwards and backwards with his thrusts, and you can barely focus on Storm’s pussy.
“Sorry, bub”, Logan says from behind you when he notices that you’ve stopped, but you can hear from his voice that he’s not sorry at all. You and Storm smile at each other as you grip her thigh to hold yourself in place and go down on her again.
You get the hang of eating pussy quickly, paying attention to the sounds Storm makes and what makes her knees tremble around your head.
She comes against your lips when you suck her clit into your mouth. Her hand is at the back of your head, hips chasing your face as you play with her clit through her orgasm. 
Being between Storm’s thighs as she comes ignites a fire in your core, and Logan’s fucking you so good, getting messy from how close he is.
You push yourself up on your arms to kiss Storm, smearing her wetness over her lips as you make out. She has to hold your face so that you don’t move too much with Logan’s thrusts, but you’re too weak to keep kissing her as you get closer to your orgasm.
“You close, bub? Gonna cum inside you,” Logan grunts from behind you.
“Mhmm, don’t stop, please.”
“I got you, baby, I got you. Doin’ so well,” he grabs your hips to fuck you even deeper as you arch your back. He hits that sweet spot inside you, and one of his hands sneaks down over your belly to rub your clit. 
Even though you can hear him starting to lose his breath, trying hard not to come yet, he plays with your clit in a way that’s perfect, and your orgasm has you biting back your moans because you’re scared of how loud they’d be.
Logan blows his load in you before you’re done coming, and it prolongs your own orgasm as he fills you with his cum, somehow even deeper inside you than he was before.
You almost collapse when he’s done with you, smiling as you roll over to lie on your back.
Storm lies down next to you and kisses you while Logan gets the bottle of water from her nightstand. She drinks a sip first and then passes it to you.
Logan chugs the rest of the water when you’re done, his adam’s apple bobbing as a drop of sweat slides down his neck. You follow it all the way over his glistening abs and down into his happy trail. You notice then that he’s hard again – or still hard – and you’ve finally got the answer to that question you’ve spent nights thinking about, wondering if his healing factor also applies to his sex drive.
“You want more, bub?” Logan asks as Storm starts kissing your neck in that way she knows how to do so well.
You nod as you sit up, Storm getting the dildo as she gets behind you, Logan sitting in front of you.
“Can I fuck you, baby?” Storm asks, hand trailing down the back of your spine and over your ass as you get on all fours again.
“Yeah,” you tell her, looking back at her with a smile, a new desire forming deep in you.
You get between Logan’s legs, leaning in to kiss him again. Every time his mouth is on you, it feels like he’s devouring you, and it’s one of the best feelings you’ve ever had. He’s all tongue and teeth.
“Can I suck your cock?” you ask against his lips, your mouth squished up with his hand grabbing your face.
“Been waiting for this since I saw you for the first time, bub. Don’t know if I’ll last long.” You never thought you’d hear Logan of all people say those words, but it turns you on that you could reduce even a man like Logan to nothing but his most primal needs.
You grin as you wetly kiss down his chest, arching your back so your ass is in the air for Storm.
“So pretty,” she mumbles, lost in her own world as she runs the tip of the dildo through your folds, and you almost lose balance.
Logan’s cock leans against the side of your face as you kiss all the way down to his happy trail, and without further thought, you take him into your mouth. You can still taste a bit of yourself on him. 
Storm starts fucking you with the dildo just as you’re getting into going down on Logan, and you pull your mouth off his cock. Somehow the dildo feels bigger in your pussy than it did with your mouth. Storm knows exactly what she’s doing.
“Didn’t realise how big it was,” you say, steadying your hands against Logan’s big thighs as you fuck back against the toy.
“Not bigger than me, bub” Logan grumbles, and you giggle.
“We know, big boy. It’s not a competition,” Storm tells him, and even though you can’t see their faces you know this just became a competition for them. And you really don’t mind the two people you have a crush on competing on who can make you come more often.
“Can I play with your ass, baby?” Storm asks you when you’ve adjusted to the toy in you and you’re back to trying to stuff all of Logan’s cock in your mouth. You moan around his dick.
“What was that, princess?” it’s Logan who asks.
“Yeah, you can,” you turn to face Storm, “But I’ve never done that before.”
“It’s okay. I’ll be gentle. Logan, can you pass me the lube from over there?” Logan ignores her – it’s not on purpose, but you’ve gone back to putting your wet mouth on him and you’re sucking his cock, and it’s hard to focus on anything but your wet mouth.
You pull away and look up at Logan, and he passes the lube after seeing the pretty smile you give him.
“Fuck, bub, so fucking gorgeous,” he says, bringing your face up to his to give you a kiss and then getting up to sit next to Storm.
“Just relax for us, baby,” Storm says, and you’ll never get tired of hearing her call you that.
Logan rubs a hand across your ass cheek, kneading your flesh. He finds his discarded shirt at the edge of the bed, wiping down your inner thighs that are dripping with his cum to try and stop Storm’s sheets from getting too messy. 
He runs his hand softly up your spine as Storm squeezes drops of lube onto your ass. Logan’s hand goes back down, settling between your legs to gently play with your clit, not to make you cum but to relax you.
“So pretty,” Storm says absentmindedly as she rubs her thumb over your tight hole.
“Can you come over here?” you ask Logan, feeling weird with both of them at your back. You like having one at each side.
“I’m here, bub,” he sits down in front of you again, lifting your head to rest your cheek on his meaty thigh instead. He gently runs the back of his hand over your other cheek as you sink down into the bed with your upper body.
Storm gently pushes the tip of her finger into your ass, “That feel okay?”
“Feels good,” you hum, letting her go deeper as she simultaneously starts to fuck your pussy with the dildo.
“Such a good girl, hmm?” Logan coos from above you and you sigh in pleasure.
“Doing so well,” Storm tells you, thumb hooked in your ass as she begins to fuck your pussy more roughly. You instinctively start fucking back, your hips moving on their own as you get up on all fours again.
Logan’s biting his lip as he watches you take Storm, hand reaching down to jerk off again, but you shove his hand away. “I wanna,” you pout, wrapping your hand around him.
“‘M not stopping you,” he tells you, sitting back as you make him feel good with your hand.
“I’m close,” you say, suddenly feeling the pleasant pressure between your thighs, looking back at Storm who smirks at your words.
She fucks into you more roughly, the added stimulation by your ass making you tip over the edge. You let go of Logan and grab his thigh to keep your balance as your orgasm flows through you, even better than the previous one.
She pulls out of you slowly, rubbing a hand over your ass cheek.
“Wanna make you cum again,” you turn to Storm.
“Later, baby, come sit on my face,” she says, and how are you meant to resist that?
She lies down on the bed and you straddle her, careful to balance your weight out on your knees rather than on her, “you sure?”
“C’mere,” she says, pulling you down onto her face, and you’re lost in the pleasure of her tongue on your clit for a few moments before you can even open your eyes again. You take Logan by his wrist and make him stand up in front of you so you can keep sucking his cock.
You suck on Logan’s dick as eagerly as Storm’s tongue is on your pussy, spit running down to his balls like it’s running down the side of Storm’s mouth. You hover over her to let her breathe but she pulls you back down.
“Don’t worry about me, I can handle you.”
She sucks on your clit with a new intensity, and you forget all about Logan’s cock as it slips out of your mouth and slides wetly across your cheek. You clumsily stick out your tongue, and Logan chuckles, “So fucked out already, hm?” He jerks off in front of your face, holding you in place. He begins to fuck against the inside of your cheek, filling your mouth with his cock.
You hum, not really listening but simply taking his cock in your mouth as the pleasure builds up inside you when Storm pushes her tongue into you. Her hands are on your ass and she sucks on your clit harder. 
Your back arches as you suddenly cum again, cheeks hollowing around Logan’s cock in the process as you suck him in deeper. Storm plays with your clit for a few more moments, lifting you to roll to the side, and your knees sink into the mattress.
“Such a good girl. Y’gonna make me cum again?” Logan says from above, and you look at him with puppy eyes as you take as much of him as you can.
“Been doin’ such a good job all night, baby. You can take him deeper,” Storm says, watching you. You’re going down on Logan but you want her praise too, so you take as much as you can of Logan under both their gazes.
“Fuuuck, baby” Logan groans, his cum spilling down your throat as you swallow him eagerly and he fucks your mouth until he’s finished, the wet sound of his cock in your mouth echoing through the room.
When he’s done coming, Logan lifts you to kiss him, and you know you still taste like him. Storm is on your other side, and you turn to kiss her, both their hands on you as you keep kissing.
-
You’ve lost count of how many orgasms you’ve each had by the time you collapse in a tired heap of sweat and lust and endorphins. 
You’re sandwiched between them, your pussy feeling as warm as your heart.
“Not that it’s a competition but I think I made her come more times than you did,” Logan tells Storm over you. 
She props herself up on one elbow, smirking at you, “You wanna tell him?”
You shake your head shyly, looking over to smile at Logan. You’re close to falling asleep, only half registering what they’re saying anyway.
“Helped our beautiful girl calm down before the party last night. Tasted better than the birthday cake.”
Logan smiles, “Can’t even be mad at you, I would’ve done the same.”
They notice you drifting off, pressing gentle kisses to your lips one after the other. You feel Storm’s hand on your face.
“Look how gorgeous our girl is,” Logan says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. Those are the last words you hear before you fall asleep.
Our girl. You like it. 
-
P.S. reblog to get a kiss from Logan and let me know your fav moment/line/whatever to get an even sloppier kiss from Storm 😳🤭  (no but seriously skhksjhg😭, I appreciate every single reblog and comment a lotttt, even if they’re just short <333)
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thinkinonsense · 1 month
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JUNO⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
logan howlett x young fem!reader.
cw: slightly nsfw, reader is 25.
a/n: this is very rushed but short n sweet is on repeat and juno has been on my mind nonstop. can't wait to see her on tour next month! <3
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
Logan wasn't stupid, he saw the stars in your eyes when you looked at him. You were yearning for him in every way possible, but Logan knew better than to corrupt a sweet girl like you. Yet, he didn't want any of those little boys on campus to have you either. They could never treat you right.
It was torture of Logan; but he had to keeping a gap between you. Never giving you the chance to pounce on him.
That was until spring break came.
Everyone in the mansion had returned home for the two-week break. Only a handful of people stayed, including Logan and yourself. He watched out his window at you in your tiny skirts out in the garden. Logan could deny the aching desire deep within himself but you knew that he was craving your touch.
You weren't one to shy away from your feelings; instead, you made them known.
"Gotta sec, Logan?" You asked, cornering him in the kitchen one morning.
When he turned around Logan feared a groan might slip past his lips. The last thing he expected was to see you in a cute baby blue slip nightgown. He was convinced you were sent as karma for all his past damages.
"No." He grunted, moving past you quickly and into the hallway.
"C'mon, Lo.." You whimper behind him, following him like a lost puppy. "I know you're avoiding me."
"Aren't you observant?" His voice leaked with sarcasm.
Logan reached his room, about to slam the door in your face and deal with some personal issues. Your hand slams against the large wooden door, keeping it open enough to slip past.
"You aren't welcome in here, sweetheart."
Logan pulled a cigar from his pocket and sat in one of the chairs in his room. That didn't stop you from standing in front of him, demanding answers. A shiver rushed through you when the smoke tickled your tummy.
"Why are you being so cruel to me?" You ask as sweetly as you can sound.
Logan took one look up at you and he immediately regretted it when he saw your little pouty face and wide eyes. He refused to answer you, instead staring at the floor and waiting for you to leave.
"I want you." You whined. He felt like you just stabbed him in the chest. "I know you want me too, Lo."
"Don't do this to me, sweets-" His words fall short when you sit on his lap.
"I'll be good for you."
Now you were being the cruel one; moving against him with lustful eyes.
"Just want you to adore me..." You purr against him, taking hold of his two giant palms against his sides. "Want you to hold me, to explore me..."
Logan was at your mercy. Your soft moans are making it hard for him to resist you anymore. His hands finally moving under the night gown to squeeze your flesh. You leave a trail of kisses up his neck; pausing by his ear.
"Mark your territory."
Logan groaned loudly, pushing your hips to his with force.
"Let me be your only, Logan."
Logan smashed his lips into yours, swallowing your pretty moans. He didn't care if it made him any worse of a person. He just needed you; and boy, were you gonna get more than just some butterflies from Logan.
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celestiamour · 29 days
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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ pretty tipsy ]❜
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ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel
╰₊✧ he brings you home after a night out drinking┊2.5k words
setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: alcohol & intoxication, this man is WHIPPED, age & size difference, emotional drunk human reader, ooc? calling him kitty
➤ author's note: idk what this is but it’s my longest logan piece yet because i have yet to write any more than a thousand words for him
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tonight was one of the few nights logan could finally have some alone time. wade was going out for drinks with vanessa with the plan to stay over at her place, the ever so mysterious blind al was off doing her own thing, and mary puppins was resting peacefully in her little bed, tuckered out after a long day of playtime. he could finally get some long-awaited peace and quiet, a moment to himself to relax and breathe. while he’s grateful for the presence of others since he arrived in this dimension, he’s still a lone wolf at heart who treasures his privacy above all else.
humming a little tune from the eighties, he sunk into the beat-up leather couch with a beer in one hand and a lit cigar in the other, taking a long drag on it and preparing himself for a relaxing evening until his flip phone started ringing. when he opened it up to read the “wade wilson” contact name staring back at him, he rolled his eyes with a groan before answering.
“what the fuck do you want?”
“not even a ‘hello?’ damn bitch, okay then— well, we ran into some friends and had some drinks together, but one of them is pretty shit-faced right now and her phone is dead, could you pretty please with sugar on top come and pick her up?”
“the fuck? that’s not my problem, just call her an uber—” he stopped mid-sentence when he heard a familiar giggle in the background, one asking a different partygoer to have another drink with her, “is that the neighbor who lives at the end of the hallway?”
“yeah, it’s your little crush~! you recognize her from just her voice over the phone, oh my god, you have it bad wolfie!! well, if you don’t wanna come, then fine, whatever, but you know, it’s not unsafe for a pretty lady to be alone this late at night! some guy might just swoop her up, actually, there’s some guy asking for her number right now—”
“alright, alright, i’m coming! send me the address.” he nearly shouted into the receiver, putting out his cigar on the ashtray atop the coffee table and slipping on his jacket to leave the comfort of his shared apartment.
the night was chilly in comparison to the cozy warmth of the indoors and the bar was filled with loud chattering and cheers, the clinking of glasses, yelling at the game being televised, and the general buzz of extroverted fun on a weekend night. 
“ayyy, there he is! come here, peanut, sit, sit, sit, have a drink with us!”
logan hesitated, not because he would ever shy away from free booze but because he was here on a mission with one sole goal in mind (and because he wasn’t familiar with this particular group of people, he didn’t feel like socializing tonight) “no, it’s fine, i’m just here to take her home.” his voice was uncharacteristically mellow, finding you napping on the table with your arms folded to be a makeshift cushion for your head. 
you peeked at the man coming up next to you and your face changed from exhausted to ecstatic to upset in the span of a few seconds, “looggann!! how are you doing, i feel like i haven’t seen you in foreverr— how come every time i see you in the hall, you always run off, are you avoiding me? did i do something wrong?” you cling onto his hand and shake his arm, paying no attention to your friends giggling at your behavior in the background, pouting and tearing up. 
oh god, you’re an emotional drunk, that’s so cute. neither he nor wade could get drunk at all on account of their systems constantly cleaning out the effects of the alcohol as soon as it’s consumed, but when he drinks around others, it’s a trait he typically finds so annoying quickly becoming so endearing when worn by you.
“i’m not avoiding you, you haven’t done anything wrong,” he consoled in the most gentle voice a wolverine could muster, also cringing at the fact that he wasn’t half as discreet as he thought he was. it’s true, he has been avoiding you, but only because he couldn’t stand the way you made him feel, smoothing out the rough edges of his personality and making him feel stupid butterflies he was far too old to be feeling, not to mention the nonstop teasing from everyone else when they noticed the way he seemed to look at you from afar. it was as if he was a child who thought hiding from it would make it go away, but it has become apparent it has only grown stronger.
“you’re telling the truth?” you sniffled.
“yes, i am. come on, bub, let’s get you outta here. i’m here to take you home.”
you didn’t protest or try to convince him you weren’t wasted, knowing your limit had been reached, and slowly picked up your things to follow him out of the building. he allowed you to intertwine your arm with his, providing support to your unbalanced mind and stumbling legs since you couldn’t even walk straight.
“why would you drink so much if you’re such a lightweight?”
“how do you know i’m a lightweight? you weren’t there, i could have drunk an entire bathtub full of booze before you showed up!” 
“nah, i can smell it, there’s no way you drank anything more than a few pints.”
“oh, so the kitty is a dog now? i thought you were more cat-like this whole time, but i guess i was wrong.” 
“what?” they say what a person says when intoxicated comes from their soul and true thoughts with little to no filter, but he certainly wasn’t anticipating those words to come out of your mouth.
“you look like a kitty, you know? with the way your hair does the little swoopy things— do you wake up like that or do you need to style it? you act like one too, grumpy ass kitty.”
“don’t call me that, kid, i hear it enough from wade already.”
“i’ll stop calling you kitty when you stop calling me kid! i know you’re old as hell, but i’m a grown-ass adult!”
“yeah? well, you’re certainly not acting like one right now.”
you were silent for a minute, making him worry for a second that he offended you by calling you childish, but when he looked back down at you, you were simply staring in astonishment. “i’ve never seen you smile before! you look a lot more handsome, you should do it more often!”
was he smiling? he didn’t even notice, grinning ear to ear and revealing his pearly white teeth, chuckling at your ridiculous words. was this really the first time you saw him smile and heard him laugh? no wonder you assumed he was avoiding you, he was surprised you didn’t hate him just because of a misunderstanding.
it took some time to get you up all of the stairs to your floor without tripping, and logan was almost sad the night was over so quickly. even if the conversation was mostly one-sided and you were intoxicated with slurred words, he swears he listened to all you had to say between comedic bits, insightful knowledge, random bullshit, and found it all fascinating. luckily for him, his time with you wasn’t up yet as he watched you fumble with your purse and frown.
“oh, fuck… i lost my keys… oh no…” you slumped against the wall until you fell to the floor, feeling yourself starting to cry at this inconvenience with heightened emotions. 
“god, please don’t, not again…” he’s the absolute worst at comforting others, it isn’t his strong suit, and acknowledging this weakness seemed ten times more difficult when you were the one in need. “come on, you can sleep at my place for the night and charge your phone.”
“...really?”
“yes, come on.” 
you took his outreached hand and found yourself in his grasp again as he held onto your shoulder to steady you, unlocking the door and leading you into his shared apartment. he felt somewhat grateful that you were too drunk to notice how messy the site was, seating you on the couch as he got you a glass of water to sober up. you looked so out of place among it all, so young and feminine with your vibrant club clothing around all of the aging, scratched-up furniture and muted colors.
“thank you,” you murmur, downing the entire tall glass with a few gulps, “uh, where is the bathroom?” he directed you to where it was and allowed you to use it, quickly hearing you turn on the shower after a minute and just as quickly hearing you swearing in regret over the loud pitter-patter of the steaming hot water. “i’m never drinking again, why am i being so fucking stupid?!” 
“are you okay?” 
“yeah, except for the fact i forgot that i don’t have a change of clothes and i stepped into the shower with my current ones on because i forgot to take them off!” your voice cracked, feeling yourself starting to cry once again from yet another inconvenience. you were really just embarrassing yourself and couldn’t wait for this shitty day to be over.
he let out a sigh of relief, “god, don’t scare me like that— i’ll get you something, hold on, please don’t cry.” he could have stolen some of al’s clothing since she wouldn’t have noticed, or he could have stolen some of the clothes vanessa left behind after spending time with wade, but for some odd reason, he pulled out one of his canadian hockey jerseys for you. the fabric was soft and worn with time, smelling slightly of him and laundry detergent, and arguably the most comfortable thing he had at his disposal. “i’ll leave it outside the door, okay?”
“thank youu!!” (and thank god your underwear is still clean and dry enough to wear again, you have no idea what you would have done if you didn’t realize your mistake soon enough and stood under the water for long enough to be soaked to the bone.)
logan allowed his fatigued body to rest for a moment, sinking into the couch just as he did an hour ago in hopes of relaxation. what the fuck was he doing? since when did the wolverine play babysitter for drunk young women, walking them back to play guard dog against possible creepy men, letting them into his home, and lending them his clothing to wear? this was so uncharacteristic of him, he couldn’t think of a single person he was willing to do this for other than laura, but you certainly weren’t nearly as close to him as he was to her! lord, he’s so pathetic, he thinks he probably would have carried you back bridal style too if you asked him.
the water stopped and he waited for you to exit so that he could show you where you could sleep, but he could now see he didn’t need to. your apartment layouts are nearly identical, and it looks like your brain was switched onto autopilot after cleaning up, mindlessly strolling into his bedroom and plopping down on his mattress as if it were your own. (his shirt was practically a dress on you, falling to your mid-thigh and ill-fitted on your smaller frame, his eyes lingering on it for a second longer than what would have been polite.)
he leaned against the doorframe, watching you make yourself comfortable and preparing to stay there until the early afternoon with a banging headache. “are you comfortable? do you need anything else?”
you murmured something in response and stretched out your arms, making grabby hands and inviting him to join you, “come cuddle with me! herree, kitty, kitty, kitty~”
are you really calling a fifty-something-year-old, six-foot-tall killer mutant with adamantium bones and razor-sharp claws that come out of his knuckles ‘kitty’? yes, yes you are, and you’re going to scream into your pillow from embarrassment when you recall it the next day.
“i don’t do cuddles, princess,” he chuckled even though he intended to scoff. “and i already told you to quit calling me that.”
“pleaseee? pretty pleasee?” you chirped, eyes going big and round just like a puppy in a cartoon, begging him to humor you in this request.
are you truly a human, or are you secretly a mutant who has hypnotic powers? the answer is obvious, he’s just an old loser who apparently answers at your every beck and call now because all he could do is sigh, slip off his jacket, and get under the blanket with you. 
you rolled on your side and wrapped your arm around his body, nuzzling your face into his comforting touch and inhaling the mild scent of pine and tobacco. humming a satisfied “good night” and dozing off within a few minutes, you clung to him as tightly as a koala onto a branch, and he couldn’t separate himself from you without making you stir and whine. 
trapped in the embrace of a beautiful neighbor whom he possessed a soft spot for, wearing his clothing and laying in his bed, he would be trapped like this until morning it sounds like a dream to most men, but to logan, it’s the fear of getting attached and losing someone else important to him rearing its ugly head to the forefront of his mind. it scares him to think what could happen if he allowed himself this pleasure of becoming close to you, and yet when he admires your slumbering face, he feels like it would be okay and work itself out in the end somehow.
he fell asleep more quickly than usual when you held him, and for the first time in forever, he wasn’t tormented with horrid nightmares of the past that always plagued him before now. when he woke up, his weary soul was well-rested and energized, almost as if he was twenty years younger again. the wonders of a good night’s sleep, or perhaps, the wonders of being with you. 
it felt so… natural to wake up with you next to him.
you were practically a dead weight by now, not rousing in the least when he slowly got up to leave the bed. he did feel a little back about undoing the grasp you had on him though, felt a bit like abandoning you in a vulnerable state. he sauntered into the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee as per his routine, only to find the most annoyingly loveable scarred face sitting in a chair waiting for him, legs crossed and hands in his lap like a supervillain. 
“sooooo, how was your night, you smitten kitten? you dirty dog!” there was a stupid smirk on his face, trying his best to hold back a fit of giggles. he knows nothing suggestive happened and was just teasing, but he still wanted to hear him say that it was a wonderful night nonetheless and to thank him for playing matchmaker.
“shut the fuck up before i stab you again. don’t ruin this morning for me.”
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joelsflower · 7 days
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love language | origins!logan x f!reader
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logan told you one million times he didn’t want anything for his birthday… anything besides you, lingerie and the moonlight.
a/n: hiiii <33 lis disappeared but is back again and apparently still obsessed with the concept of hot old men unwrapping you like a present. the hugh jackman fever hit me VERY hard and im down bad cough cough enjoy! also to enhance the experience when i say “he looked up at you” pls picture him exactly like in this picture ☝🏼and expect to feel something growing in ur belly in the next 9 months
wc: 4k
warnings: 18+ mdni. pure smut and fluff!! lingerie, logan is obsessed w reader, older!logan (i picture him in origins cause wtf is this man and reader in her early/middle 20s but up to you! legal ofc!!) fingering and eating out but brief cause reader is hot to go!, blowjob, facefucking & deepthroat (not rough), unprotected piv (wrap it up!), creampie, AFTERCARE!!! like SO MUCH logan is soooo soft!dom in this the whole time is like toothache sweet cause it’s a lis fic and yes. they are IN LOVE yall. oh and also reader is a kindergarten teacher (oops
🎀🎀🎀
“Stay”
You grabbed his wrist the moment he recollected his will to leave the end of the bed. Logan’s eyes turned soft, finding you from over his shoulder and turning around to follow the sunlight that kissed your cheeks.
“I wish, angel,” he cooed, both hands brushing your cheeks while his body towered over you “but someone already made me late, huh?”
You gave him a shy smile to meet the smirk that adorned his features, both of you sharing the memories of your bodies tangled just minutes prior. “Wanted to give you a present,” you almost whispered, remembering the one hundred times he told you he didn’t want anything for his birthday.
Not a cake, not a present, not a party. Nothing. Just you.
Logan’s smile faded, but you knew he wasn’t mad. With large hands embracing your neck softly, he kissed you on the forehead, “told you,” on the nose, “you are,” on the jaw, “the only thing i want”, and on your mouth, leaving the taste of him to linger on your lips throughout the whole day.
Your eyes slowly drifted up to find his gaze, the back of your head now resting on his palms.
“Promise” he gave you a sterner look before walking towards the door, “I promise,” you whispered, following as the smile you had earned earlier returned to his face, his back only turning to you when he heard the words fall from your lips.
But it was only a half promise. After all, he still wanted nothing but you, right?
🎀🎀🎀
The day passed by very slowly. You didn’t work on fridays, so you spent the most of it correcting some grades and planning the activities for your next week’s classes. You missed the kids, you can’t lie, and having glue and glitter all over your house definitely distracted you from the little something that was waiting patiently inside a very fancy box on the back of your closet.
The sun was setting around the time Logan would be home and you also had finished all the things you had planned earlier, so you used the time you had to take a shower and get ready.
The scent of some very sweet flower graced your nostrils when you pulled the lid of the heart-shaped box. Your eyes glowed in awe when your fingertips brushed the delicate baby pink lace, the little hairs on your lower belly goosebumping with anticipation, thinking how beautiful you’d feel in it and how the man that loved you would feel about you in it.
And that’s when you heard his steps on the stairs.
Logan arrived silently, and in part to make sure you hadn’t burnt yourself out making some sort of surprise for him. It’s not that he didn’t trust you, but all the glitter and glue on the table and the all the silence scared him a bit.
“Baby?” He called you while undressing himself down to his black t-shirt and boxers. “Oh, hey you,” his expression softened when his eyes found your head peaking from the bathroom door, gaze savoring the sight of him slowly unbuckling his belt.
“How was your day?” you asked watching him from the same spot, the muscles of his arms flexing when he reached to close the door and turn off the lights. Exactly how he said, the only things he wanted for his birthday were you, the lingerie he still didn’t know about, and the moon watching the two of you through the window.
“Great. Apparently someone told the guys it was my birthday and they let me work on paper today. So… Not so tired as I usually am.”
“I’m not sorry for that,” you smiled, knowing exactly who told the guys it was his birthday.
“I know,” he reciprocated your smirk, offering a hand in your direction. “Come here.”
Your breath got momentarily caught in your throat, excitement bursting in your body like fireworks in your veins.
“Close your eyes,” you said.
“Sweetheart-“
“Please?”
And how could he not? When your soft voice asked so nicely for him to? And the sweet and at the same time sexy scent of your perfume bewitched his thoughts? With your eyelashes blinking up at him and making the cold of his claws run to the lower of his spine? If closing his eyes would end the distance between you, then he would.
You then stepped carefully towards him, trying not to bump onto his knees and ruin the surprise.
You took both of his hands within yours, playing his fingers with your smaller ones. The simple contact made him shiver, the warmth of your presence washing all his tiredness and worries away.
“Could sit here with my eyes closed and just smell you forever”
You grinned. You knew his senses were heightened and definitely wanted to play with it tonight.
“Well, you told me you didn’t want to receive anything,” you then brought his hands to the sides of your thighs, the firmness of his palms on your soft skin sending shivers up and down your belly.
“Not totally true,” he thumbed your leg, fingertip brushing dangerously close to the fabric.
“Mhmm,” your hands glued on top of his and guided them a little lower, his palms now resting on top of the delicate, lacy garters adorning your thighs, “but I want you to feel it.”
Logan’s thoughts were in completely caos. Which of course, could only be translated by the grin on his face. You were close enough that he could not only smell your perfume and your scent, but knowing that he was the one causing that and with so little effort drove him insane. He could hear your accelerated heartbeat and used the grip on your legs to soothe you, moving his thumbs up and down, up and down, very slowly, feeling the contrast between the lacy fabric and your thighs.
“Yeah?”
You agreed silently, using your grip to move one of his hands all the way up to your belly in a very slow motion, to then release them both and let Logan’s fingers dance freely around your body.
The one hand he kept down gripped your thigh harder, snaking down to the back of your knee to bend it over his own leg, giving him better access to the rest of you. The thumb on your belly caressed around of your belly button in small circles and traced all the little flowers and bows on the thing garter that hugged your waist and decorated your breasts. The image being painted on Logan’s mind was already enough to make his underwear start to stiffen.
“Oh, baby,” he breathed, and it felt like the first fresh breath he had taken in the day.
The contrast of his rough digits with your delicate skin made your body a too tight space to contain yourself, inching closer to him at every touch. He then surrounded your middle with both of his arms and gave your stomach a kiss, your fingers playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck when he moved his face upwards, his chin rested on your tummy, eyes inching to meet yours.
“Can I see you, princess? Please?”
You hummed a quiet “mhmm”, and when he looked up at you with the most lovelorn eyes you had ever seen, you weren’t strong enough to hold back and kissed him.
It felt like the first kiss you two have had in a lifetime; deep, warm and wet. Your tongues danced together while his arms kept you impossibly closer, hands tightly holding from the back of your thighs to the top of your spine. When you parted to breathe, his eyes found yours again;
“There’s my girl. Let me see you, baby,” he held your hand in his and you took his signal to do a little spin, showing him your lacy one-piece.
“Happy birthday, love” you whispered, hands resting on his shoulders to balance yourself, one leg returning to rest on his.
“So you’re my present, hm?” Logan waited for you silent confirmation, palms devouring your thighs and ass while the kisses that he so gently placed on your knee slowly inched forward, “and do I get to unwrap you, angel?”
At that moment your walls were already pulsing with desire and your mind was already empty of words. You felt his lips wrap at a very special place on your inner thigh while his opposite hand moved up to message one of your boobs. You knew it wouldn’t take much for any of you to release control and quit the teasing, and being both on the verge of bursting the whole day waiting for the other, that was the time and the place.
You whimpered when his hand moved down and cupped your clothed center, his lips now distributing pecks on your hip while your nails dig in his shoulders.
“Gonna let me taste you, sweet girl? Hm?” He kissed your beating clit trough the lace and you nodded your head fastly, not being able to hold back anymore. You knew very well the animalistic look he had on his eyes now and the way his hands couldn’t rest in just one spot; he wanted nothing but to devour, explore and adore you.
With your consent, Logan wasted no time in sliding the delicate fabric to the side to meet your leaking pussy. The groan that left his chest when he saw your juices dripping to down your legs put your whole body on fire, followed by the cold that ran through your veins when two of his digits gently spread your lips apart.
“Fuck, look at you,” his thumb toyed with your clit, drawing little circles with a small pressure of the pad, “that’s how wet this little pussy gets for me, hm? Left you waiting the whole day to take care of you… Bad ol’ man, ain’t I?”
“N-no, you’re g-ood,” you managed to take the words out, eyes rolling to the back of your head and nails digging impossibly deeper into his shoulders when his digits lowered down and teased your opening, “and I wanna. Fuck. Wanna be good for you, Logan.”
“Oh, you are, princess. You’re my best girl.”
Pressing your clit between his lips and tongue, he sucked and savoured on it as if you were the source of all life on the planet, the most succulent fruit to the most starving man, like he himself once said; the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. His fingers pumped in and out of your hole rhythmically, hitting deeper and deeper each time. His other hand gripped your ass tightly and pressed your lower body impossibly closer to his face, making you moan loudly with all the stimulation.
You felt your walls start to clench his digits and pulled his head back by his hair to join your mouths in a wet, hot kiss, your other hand slowly removing his own from your sopping pussy, your shaking legs leading you to straddle him.
In his lap, the kiss only deepened; your and his movements were desperate, constantly searching for each other. You gripped his shirt by the collar and helped him take it off of his body, his muscular torso greeting you. Your hands eagerly pressed against his chest while Logan dig his fingers deep into your waist and moved you back and forth, your cunt pooling his underwear with the grinding of your exposed center on his throbbing and neglected cock.
“Wait- Logan, wait,” you pulled his roots again, making him moan.
“I’m here,” he rest his forehead on yours, fingers playing with the ends of your head while your breaths and heartbeats found the other’s rhythm.
“Wanna suck on you”
“Get on your knees for me then,” he demanded after a moment staring at you, trying to hide in his smile the excitement that flooded through his body.
You removed your body from his finding balance on his shoulder, lowering down to your knees on the carpet with the help of his arms around you.
He looked so, so beautiful like this. His prince hair and strong shoulders outerlined by the glowing moonlight that touched his back. His arm muscles tensin when one palm rested on his thigh and the other lowered down to finger-kiss your face. The “thank you, I love you” look he had on his eyes the whole time you were together. Who wouldn’t get get on their knees for this?
“That’s it princess, comfortable there?” You nodded and spread his legs a little, giving you space to kneel closer. He gave you another peck on the lips and moved his hands to rest flat on the bed, giving you all the freedom to do your thing.
You started by running your hands up and down his thighs while kissing down his abdomen, the thick path of hairs on his belly tickling your lips. Slowly, your hand snaked to his boxers while your mouth kept him distracted, licking the angry veins on his happy trail.
You palmed him eagerly, the volume of his member filling your whole palm and a little more. This first contact was enough to earn a raspy groan from his chest and some beads of precum that pooled on the little wet patch between his tip and boxers, where you butterfly-kissed before finally putting his underwear down.
You used your hands to spread his precum down and pump him a bit, desperate to have him in your mouth, you kept moving up and down while your mouth lowered to wrap around his tip, nursing on it like it was your favorite lollipop.
Your messiness has Logan seeing stars. Spit and precum was all over your face already, tongue darting up and down his shaft with desire. He almost screamed when your fingers played with the very top of his head and you lowered your mouth to his balls, suckling each into your mouth carefully.
“Jesus baby, that’s my girl, fuck-“
But it wasn’t enough. You were starved for him, for his pleasure. You waited the whole day to see his mouth hanging in bliss and you also wanted him to have what he wanted. You took his mouth of off his balls and kept lazily stroking him, lashes batting up to meet his eyes, “Fuck my mouth?”
Logan couldn’t believe how such a cute thing like you could look so sexy saying such filthy words. He loved it.
“Are you sure?” You nodded.
He then motioned for you to scoot back a little so he could get up, positioning himself in front of you, now both of you in front of the bed, sides facing the window.
He could die like this. The last thing he would ever see in his life could easily be you, on your knees, fucked out face with his precum and spit all over your face, with the moonlight reflecting on your rounded eyes just waiting for him to love on you. And he would die peacefully.
“Gonna start real gentle, ‘kay?” he assured you while brushing your hair back to hold it in his hands, one wrapping around the strands at the back of your head and the other holding his member.
“Lemme see this pretty tongue, baby’” he waited for your mouth to hang open and positioned his tip on top of your waiting tongue, tapping and circling it there. Logan kept teasing you (and himself) for a moment like this, smearing the leaking tip of his cock all over your mouth, tracing your tongue and lips at a torturing pace until he understood the desperate look in your widened eyes and scrunched brows, a silent “please”.
“Shh, gonna give you what y’want, princess. Suck on the tip, hm? Just the tip. Like you were doing before,” you loved when he ordered you around like this, especially when he looked so big towering over you and his voice was so low and deep like it was right now. You wasted no time in closing your already plump lips around him and deliciously suffocating his bulbous head in your mouth.
“That’s it bub, fuck. That’s my girl,” he loved when you were so obedient like you were right now during sex, his own little princess. His free hand stroked the part of his cock that wasn’t enveloped by your lips, using the mix of your spit and his own precum that was everywhere by now.
Your hands left your lap to dig into his thighs and your movements started to get more shallow, eyelids heaving and lashes blinking slowly up at him. You knew what you wanted, and Logan knew too, and he was gonna give it you.
The hand that was on his cock moved up to hold your jaw and the back of your head, inclining it up a bit so your face was now completely turned to him. This simple move of his already made his cock slip a little further into your mouth, taking a moan from both of you.
“Shhh, angel, yeah, that’s it,” his firm hold in the back of your head allowed you to stop moving and he slowly started to move his hips, pumping his cock in and out of your mouth carefully to not gag you. Not right now, at least. “Gonna give it to you slow, baby. You can take it, can’t you?” He knew an answer for you wouldn’t be exactly available at the moment, but you gave your best to manage out a nod, “know you can, bub.”
Logan kept his pace for a while before roughening and fastening it a bit to prepare you, tightening his grip on your head and steading the movements of his hips, his cock now halfway into your mouth, in and out, in and out. He felt your lips and throat loosening and the gagging sounds leaving your lips were driving him insane, his bones were on fire from keeping back and not just fuck your throat like he (and you) wanted.
When his tip kissed the edge of your throat you let your eyes close and your hands fall to his calf, letting him know you were ready, “just a bit more, sweet girl, just-“ his tip entered your throat with ease, curving a bit to follow its anatomy. When your lips finally touched the hairs on his base and his whole cock was seated into your hot mouth, he stilled completely.
You could hear his heavy breathing as if he ran a marathon in five minutes. The silence between the two of you letting you know that if he said or did anything he was surely cuming at that right moment. Logan’s eyes were closed and his head turned to the ceiling, brows furrowed trying to contain himself.
Your fingers caressed his leg slightly, reminding him you were ready, and when his gaze turned down to give you attention, dark and serious, like a big wolf preying down a little bunny, you knew what he was feeling. It faded quickly though when his eyes found yours, his rough expression turning into a smile, “you’re my best girl, aren’t you? That’s what y’wanted babe? To choke on my dick?”
You blinked your eyes assuringly, the heaviness of your eyelids taking a sexy, deep laugh from his chest. His hand left your head momentarily to caress your cheek with the back of his point finger, “think you can swallow for me?” he whispered.
You’ve done that before, and the feeling was nothing like anything you’ve ever experienced, the both of you. And you felt that it was coming by the calm and patient way he was dealing with you tonight. Logan was always careful to ask for things that edged your limits, always trying his best to keep you safe and comfortable. And who were you to deny the birthday boy what he was asking for?
You prepared yourself and slowly clenched your throat, suffocating his tip in the curve of it. Tears involuntarily pooled and fell from your eyes with the overstimulation and the feeling of oh, being so full of him, of his cock angrily pulsing in the whole extent of your mouth and now your throat. Logan’s eyes turned to the back of his head and his mouth hanged open, his fingers flexing in your hair to not lose control.
“O-one more time ba-“ and before he could even finish his sentence you were swallowing him down again, this time earning a loud and raspy groan from him, “fuck! baby, c’mon,” he carefully pulled himself from your mouth, cock hanging angry and desperate from your activities. “Need to feel you,” and kissed you hungrily.
He pulled you by your arms and intertwined them around his neck, tapping your bum slightly in a sign for you to jump in his lap. Logan was careful to drop you on the bed, never parting your lips and laying with his whole body weight on top of you. The hairs on his chest feathering over your nipples and the kiss of his tip over your folds were growing in you a type of desire you couldn’t quite decipher.
Sweat, spit and love were everywhere, your bodies swayed under the moonlight as if you were one. While your tongues fought for space into the other’s mouth, he reached a hand down and starting to thumb your clit, applying a delicious amount of pressure that had your mouth unplugging from his with a whine. When you felt his head finally circling your hole, you released him and turned around.
“Like that?” Logan watched as you switched positions, large palm finding your lower back while you placed yourself tummy down on the bed. “Can we?” you whispered, looking at him over your shoulder.
Logan smiled; if you kept being this cute he was going to fuck the sense out of you without effort. His other hand reached behind your knee and lifted it, giving him more easy access to you. Positioning himself into your entrance, he slipped his cock up and down your folds, your juices mixing in a squelching sound.
When he felt your hole flutter and your eyes close, your smaller fingers gripping the sheets, he reached up and kissed a drying tear in your cheek, “shhh baby, g’na go slow, ‘kay?” you nodded. There’s no exaggeration, Logan was big. Big and wide and veiny and filled you in all the right places.
The moment his head eased into you, you were seeing stars. The way your walls spread to welcome his girth made your mind fuzzy and all your senses heightened, the moan he left ecoed in your brain and the touch of his hand embracing yours burned like fire. He slowly pressed forward until his cock was perfectly engulfed inside you, both his member and your walls pulsing in unison.
“Move,” you mewled, fingers gripping his thumb in need. Logan used the hand on the small of your back to balance himself, starting to pump in an out at a perfect pace; not so fast but not so slow, deep, deep as he could to kiss every inch of your cunt and rearrange your insides.
“Pussy so warm, angel. Gripping me so tight,” he sad in your ear, “my little sweet gift.”
Stars exploded all the way down your spine, the fullness of his cock pumping your pussy and the weight of his body pressing on top of yours drove you over the edge, your walls gripping him tightly while you came, bringing his thumb into your mouth.
“That’s it, sweet girl, come for me,” he kissed your temple, “gush this cock, it’s all yours,” Logan slowed his pace inside you to let you calm down, caressing your hair and distributing kisses around your teary eyes.
“Think you can take a bit more, princess?” he whispered gently in your ear, his cock still throbbing inside you, “just a bit and I’ll be done. So I can fill your pussy up and good? Keep you full and plugged with me, hm?” You nodded with his thumb still between your lips and felt his hips meet your ass again.
It was so good. The overstimulation had you throbbing nonstop and your head in the clouds. Logan’s groans and moans were music to your ears along with his “that’s it, princess, fuck”, “whose’s pussy is this, hm? All mine to fuck and love on, ain’t it?”, “yeah, baby, that’s my sweet girl. Taking it so good f’me”, until he himself could take anymore, his cock pulsating and balls stiffening, until his voice got muffled by a low groan and you felt his seed fill you completely, gushing your insides and spilling down and off your walls.
“Fuck, fuck,” he whispered, tired. His forehead rested on your temple as you both calmed down, breathing harmonised. Logan awaited until you opened your eyes and delicately pulled his thumb from your mouth, brushing your hair off of your face.
“Hi,” he smiled.
“Hey,” you reciprocated, receiving a little peck on the lips, that turned into many many kisses all over your face while his palm messaged your back. “Thank you, sweetheart. Gonna pull out now, ‘kay?”
While Logan left to the bathroom to clean himself and find a cloth to clean you, you rested your chin on your forearms and stared up at the full moon through the window, sweetly reminiscing the last hour and thanking her for him. On moments like these all your mind could process was Logan Logan Logan.
“Here, bub,” he carefully whipped the fluids from your pussy, the pair of you giggling when you clenched in sensitivity, “c’mon, I draw the bath.”
You hand Logan spent another hour in the warm bath, cleaning and caressing and stealing kisses while the bubbles danced on your skin. You rested your head on his chest and lifted one finger, using the others to simulate a lighter to lit up the “candle”. “Here, make a wish,” you motioned it in front of his face, taking a laugh from him, who closed his eyes and made some funny faces to amuse you. He then blew your finger and playfully bit it, “what did you wish?”
“Well, I can’t tell you, can I?”
You kissed him and closed your eyes, laying back to your position on his shoulder.
“You. You’re my only wish.”
🎀🎀🎀
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eupheme · 28 days
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I had a thought about 🥺 tending to Old Man Logan's wounds like he does to himself in Logan (2017). He deserves to be taken care of
oof anon, this made my heart ache! 🥲💖 I just watched Logan again and god those scenes broke my heart - I wrote a little drabble based on your ask (hope that is okay!) 💖 he so deserves it!
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old man logan x reader | 450 words
tags: hurt/comfort, wound care, mention of blood, feelings
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“Let me.”
You don’t like to be forceful with him.
Sometimes it’s the only way he’ll listen. A hand splayed against his chest as you push him back against the mattress.
Your thighs spread to straddle him, a coffee mug full of tepid water and a torn shirt tucked against his hip.
Without you, the blood would dry on his skin. Sticky against his white dress shirt, flaking off the next day. Seeping into the fabric, melding with the dew of sweat in the summer heat.
“Don’t have to-“ Logan protests - still trying to lift up on an elbow. Stubborn as an old dog. Ready to flinch away from something he doesn’t think he deserve.
Old wounds take time to heal now. Some never do, not fully.
Even after every hit he’s taken, there’s still a shaky inhale when you brush the dampened cloth against his chest.
A soft, placating hum - your other hand finding his and squeezing. All that red slowly staining the old shirt, leaving his skin clean. Revealing pinkened flesh, still knitting together.
He’ll be whole by morning. It still makes you ache.
“What happened this time?” It’s quiet, your eyes still focused on your work.
Logan grunts, fingers squeezing yours when scrub a little too hard. Your head ducking to press a kiss against his stomach, just shy of where a knife sunk to the hilt.
“Carjacking. Someone tried to take the limo.” It comes as a low rasp, his eyes not meeting yours.
You frown, “So let them have it.”
“Can’t, sweetheart,” His gaze finally finding yours - dark and solemn, “Gotta take care of you.”
You reach, a hand cupping his cheek. An ache in your chest at the way he leans into it - his eyes fluttering shut.
The mug and the shirt placed on the old wooden side table. Each wound carefully taped and covered, with practiced fingers. Shifting, until you can tuck into his side - your head nestled against his shoulder.
“We take care of each other.” It’s a reminder, murmured into the night.
He’ll come home bloody again.
Tomorrow, next week, the week after. As relentless as the grey that weaves into his beard, his temples.
Can’t stop him. Can’t stop time, either.
But tonight, he is yours. Your eyes closed as you listen - the racing of his heart gradually calms, as your fingers trace over old scars. The way he tugs you closer, as his breath evens out. Going slow and steady.
It’s enough. It has to be.
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thank you for sending this! I am going to be 🥺😭 all day, omg
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mariclerc · 24 days
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Summer gateway | ls2
Summary: you and logan decide to do an eurotrip on summer.
Warnings: none, just fluff and Hispanic!reader.
a/n: a little blurb, because i think we're all going to miss logan🥺😭🤍 @bananaleclerc
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When the famous "summer break" finally arrived, you and Logan were very clear about what you wanted to do in that almost month-long vacation... Being able to take a Eurotrip through some European cities, maybe not all of them, but it was enough for both of you to be able to say that you two had such a great summer.
Right now you and Logan are at one of the last stops of your Eurotrip... Barcelona, you always wanted to visit the city for its architecture and so on... You and Logan are at a cute cafe enjoying a sunny afternoon.
”¡What a good coffee! Oh god, I really needed one!” you say smiling while sipping a cortado.
“I know, right? The coffee and the place are so amazing.” he chuckled.
“I know, but not as much as you.” you say while blushing a little bit.
You and Logan have been dating for a couple of years, since he was racing in F2, you both met in a cafe near the Williams factory, you both started talking until you told him you were a latina from Miami and he got really excited to meet a fellow countryman on the other side of the world... Little by little things started to happen and so on, it was a wonderful thing for you to have met him in such an inopportune way.
“Aw, stop it baby. You're too sweet.” he says while grinning.
You giggle. “No, seriously, I love traveling with you! It's so much fun bebé!” (baby)
He takes your hand. “Me too, mi amor. It's been so nice to just relax and enjoy each other's company.” (my love)
You look at him fondly. “Yeah, with no worries about bad bosses.”
“And without any racing to worry about. It's the perfect break.” he leans closer towards you.
You nudge him playfully. “Bueno, eso es cierto! But don't worry, when we get back on track, I'll be there supporting you, whether you do well or not.” (well, that's true!)
He giggled as he heard you speaking spanish. “I know you will, love. You're always my biggest fan!”
You smile softly at him. “I will always be, mi amor. And you, mine, even if I don't do something as interesting as yours.” you say in a whisper. (my love)
You two sit in comfortable silence for a moment, enjoying the atmosphere. Logan takes out his phone and shows you a picture.
“Look at this view from the Sagrada Família! It's incredible!” he says excitedly.
“Principe that's incredible! Can we go there tomorrow? Please?” you say with excitement in your voice and wide eyes as you look at the picture. (prince)
He laughs a little. “Of course we can honey! Anything for you!”
You two continue talking, laughing, and planning your next summer adventure together.
You sighed. “Oh, te amo mucho Logie!” you said softly to him. (oh, i love you so much logie!)
He smiled and blushed. “I know you do my sweet love.” he kissed your cheek. “How about we go back to the hotel and get some rest, little doll?”
You blushed. “Oh yup! Today has been a little tiring.” you nodded at his words.
You two get up from the table and start walking, you love the vibe of the city and the atmosphere so much, but more than that, you love being able to be in that place with your ideal person in the whole world.
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pedgito · 1 month
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𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | Logan Howlett x reader
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↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi
summary | with no threshold for pain, logan finds that losing control with you is easier, triggering a thirst that is insatiable.
author's note | um.......yeah idk. i have no excuse and while i still write predominately for pedge boys i had to. i couldn't help it. am i sorry? no. is this insane? a little. special thanks to @ovaryacted, @pr0ximamidnight & @wannab-urs for being the best and reading this over
content warning | 18+ smut, written with x-men (2000)!logan in mind, mutant!reader, established relationship, hand kink (and sensitivity), pain kink, blood kink, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), exchange of bodily fluids (yes its bl*od), mentions of exhibitionism, also kinda body worship, this turned out way kinkier than it was supposed to be
word count —2.2k
Logan was never soft, but he’s learned to smooth out his sharp edges for you.
And while he was never shy, he wasn’t always open about his claws slipping out near climax when things got a little too out of control or his mind would slip, bordering into that animalistic ferocity he sometimes drifted into when he was more desperate.
Just a touch, a lick, a press of his skin against yours and he’d haul you onto whatever surface was close by and rail you into a near amnesic state of consciousness. It made you feel like you were floating, allowing his superhuman strength to lift you up and off to bed, spending most of those nights in his room rather than your own.
You weren’t a thing, it had never been established. But, Logan has grown comfortable, familiar, and he was appreciative of it, even if he didn’t show it. It came with the kisses when you slipped into his room after heavy training evenings or a night where he just needed some entertainment, something to keep him occupied. 
He liked your company even if it was never spoken aloud. 
The signs came when you would scoot away on the couch to give him space when you both would drift into meaningless conversation that would in turn mold into you, in his lap after a soft tug and a complacent smirk on his face.
You’ve grown fond of him, his wittiness and unrestrained personality that was often subdued under a dark, brooding facade, his body too—strong, chiseled arms and a well-defined chest. He was big, everywhere. All-consuming and just bordering on the edge of too much. But, it was his hands that really pulled you in.
Thumbs pressing beyond swollen lips as you run the surface of your tongue against his skin, an aid to muffle the whimpers that slip beyond your lips when you’re trying to be quiet—when Logan needs you quiet, teetering on a dangerous line of exhibitionism if you keep it up.
Or the length of his hands squeezing against your hips, pulling you back to meet his thighs as his cock spears you open, his palm often finding on your lower back as he presses you further into the mattress, ass angled up as best you could manage when he was rutting himself into you like he was in heat—gruff, wet pants of a gradually building high against your skin that drove you wild. 
His claws have slipped out a few times—your headboard remained the proof as he’d rid himself of his own long ago, deep but thick holes in the wood that you’re almost positive continued into the drywall. He’s ruined a pillow or two, but there was a surge of excitement that came along with it. 
The sound of them as they slip beyond his skin, not even the slightest grimace on his face as it happens, ultimately taken by his pleasure in overdrive, the action always registers half a second too late.
 Thankfully, you’ve come to sense it well.
You always know just where to touch—what drives him wild and extracts the feral nature in him and what softens his steely regard. Touches along his jaw pull him in, lips pressing against the spot on you mirroring your fingers on him. 
Sometimes it’s nails digging into his indestructible skin, irritated and swollen marks that would fade as quickly as they appeared, no use in drawing blood as it never spilled.
But, the soft and intriguing sounds that slip as you run your fingers along his forearm are something you take note of over time—occasionally just a tickle that he shrugs away with a soft chuckle, slipping his hand between your bodies to play with your clit, leaving him just out of reach as he circles that sensitive bundle of nerves, urging your eyes to stay on him, with him.
He’s always good at talking you through, gentle words of encouragement married with tight, guttural groans as his cock sinks into you, a hand at your thigh to keep you spread open, his gaze always wandering down to marvel at the sight of you and him and you take him so well—he’s told you a million times over by now.
Occasionally his hands will make a slow crawl to your shoulders or your neck, curling around the muscle and cradling you, like an anchor for himself. Your own fingers spread over his grip, right along the ridge of his knuckles. 
At first he tensed, his hands slipping away in a hurry to grip another part of your body, lower, deeper—disconnecting helped and even if he had learned to control the urge to a degree, there was always a chance.
Logan wasn’t oblivious to your own regenerative healing—not entirely indestructible, although the lack of pain receptors made you a viable asset for a plethora of things but being on the other end of a spar with him was still nothing to take lightly, a man of challenge himself, you weren’t leaving that fight without a couple knicks and cuts even though as soon as they appeared, they were then non-existent.
Physically, you were a challenge, nothing for people to underestimate. The perfect torture device, the ideal punching bag. You've learned to subdue the emotion and the mental toll it took, but with Logan, there was an openness to be vulnerable, knowing that you needed the pain just as much as it often displeased you.
Where Logan fears worry and shame, you find the care and curiosity in soothing the spots where his claws tear through, a gentle squeeze of your fingers in the spaces between his knuckles, a kiss to each one and down his wrist, a show of affection while your eyes never leave his own.
Sometimes you did it absently, on the couch while you both drifted to sleep after a long day or during a movie that you’ve thrown on to distract Logan from his own mind—some days he just needed you around in whatever form you had to offer.
There wasn’t a single part of him you didn’t admire and one night, like tonight, things reach culmination and Logan slips.
His mouth waters at the sight of you on your back, pussy on full display and your thighs spread wide under his grip as his cock sinks deep and pulls out, right to the tip before he’s drilling himself back inside of you, fingers twisting into the sheets so hard they often rip, eyes drifting close as your head keens back in overwhelming pleasure.
“Bub, eyes on me,” Logan coaxes, his fingers curling around the top of your thighs as they squeeze, keeping you apart and open, pliant under his touch, “keep ‘em on me.”
He hips still, waiting, watching—you peek your eyes open with a shy smile that is met with a smirk, his eyes brimming with warmth, nodding as you listen.
 “Right there, that’s good.”
You roll your eyes fondly, a flutter of your lashes as he pushes inside of you unexpectedly, a sharp and wild snap of his hips that pulls a surprised gasp from your chest, squeezing instinctively around him in response—again and again as your thighs press further and further in until he’s nearly at your chest, his knuckles grazing the underside of your breasts and you beg, tongue wetting your bottom lip as you speak.
“Don’t—please don’t hold back,” you plead—to some degree, he always did, shared mutant powers aside there was always a deep need in Logan’s psyche to protect and inadvertently to shield, “all of it—want all of you.”
As to seal the words with truth, your fingers slide over his hands gripped tightly at your thighs, keeping them still as your feet curl around the back of his thighs and pull him in. Deeper, tighter. Logan chuckles at the motion, almost taunting. There was a sensitivity to the spot where his claws pushed through, a warning of what was to come and like all the other softer, more receptive parts of him, the touch surges a sense of hot, angry need through his entire body.
Easy, his eyes read.
“I like it,” you admit with a gentle swirl of your hips to bring him back, followed by the slow angle and snap in response, “—lose control a little, Logan. Let it out.”
“That part of me—“ Logan begs, but there’s a quiet noise of disapproval from you, your eyes softer as you admire him.
“Is part of you,” you remind him, “and I—“ like an absolute menace, he penetrates hard, rubbing the sensitive swell of muscle inside of you that makes you dizzy, “fuck—I don’t need you to hide yourself.”
Logan goes quiet, contemplating but observant as his hands squeeze against the sound of surprise you make as he grazes your g-spot, a fist pressing against his groin that flattens out into your palm, feeling the flex of his muscles as he works himself inside of you.
“I wanna feel it, I need it to hurt,” You beg, his brows drawing in—pensive for a half-second before you can see the flip of a switch in his head, “you can lose control with me, Logan.”
He practically vibrates as the growl emits from his chest, watching his hands squeeze impossibly tighter before his claws are our, unsheathed before you and you can’t help but smile, a millimeter from splicing through skin that could never keep the memory of it and you run your finger along the base, the slight flicker of discomfort in his face that fades as you began to move against him again.
There was something about pain, that stinging feeling of a wound as the adamantium sliced through you, along the swell of your ribs and breasts, a trickle of blood falling from the cut before it disappeared—and instinctively, Logan’s hand settle away as he leans in and swipes the blood away with his tongue, eyes locked on your own and you quiver, mouth opening in a silent gasp.
He moans at the taste, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip at the action and to make matters worse, he speaks, blood on his tongue and teeth, “M’pretty sure she tastes even sweeter.”
His eyes flick toward your cunt, a whimper in protest at the loss of his cock as he slips out of you and sinks to his stomach in one fluid motion, his slick covered cock ruining your sheets as he drives his tongue inside of you, nose pressed against your clit as he satisfies the loss of him with more, claws dragging dangerously close to your hips, the tips of his claws pressing into the skin.
His tongue drags up to you clit, lapping up the mix of sweet slick and his own, your hands pressing over top of his to force the sharp edge deeper, slicing through your skin until you feel yourself on the verge of passing out, a small pool of blood gathering at your pelvis.
Your own fingers drag through the thick crimson, spreading it over his waiting mouth as he grins, a perfect picture of greed and pleasure as he dives back into your cunt, a hurried and overwhelming pace against your clit driving you over the edge within seconds, your orgasm crashing toward you far faster than you’re expecting as you cry out, hips lifting from the bed but not without a fight, Logan’s grip pressing you down into mattress to clean you up.
All of you.
He rises with a grin, brutish but charming as he kisses you, tasting yourself on him as your own blood smears your lips, giggling softly into his mouth.
“Inside,” Logan already knows, fist curling around his cock as he slips back inside of you, “—oh fuck, Lo—“
“Greedy girl,” He admonishes amorously and returns his hurried pace, claws sinking into your pillows and mattress, a sorry that would come later for the action but you needed him now, “gonna let me fill you full, huh?”
You nod jerkily, forehead pressed tight against his own as he huffs into your open mouth, a mingling of sacred noises between each other as his hips falter, a broken gasp falling from his lips as he snaps his hips once before he’s buried to the hilt, coming deep inside you cunt.
His claws retract synonymous with his climax as he settles against his now bare fists before he’s falling onto his back with a huff, looking like a fucked-out mess with his hair even more askew than it always it, blood drying at the corner of his mouth as you roll onto your stomach and grab for his hand, pressing a kiss to each knuckle with a soft smile, figuring you must be quiet the sight yourself.
“You have to stop worrying, Logan,” you remind him gently, dropping his hand to move closer, his arm extending and pressing against your back as you curl into him, your fingers tracing along his jaw as you speak to him, “that you’re going to scare me away.”
“You still have time to run,” He jokes lightly, but there’s a tinge of sadness to his tone and you shake your head with a quickly developing smirk.
“Only if you’re chasing after me,” You challenge, leaning forward to nip at his jaw, surprised when he returns the action as he buries his pith against your throat, rolling you onto your back with a laugh that bursts from your chest.
“That can be arranged, bub,” He promises, nosing himself into the sensitive spot behind your ear, “I’d sniff you out in seconds, anyways.”
-
divider creds: @saradika-graphics
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hazelsmirrorball · 26 days
Text
Bed Chem | Oscar Piastri x Singer! Reader
summary: when rumors build up calming that the couple had broken up, they decided to break the internet with a new music video
faceclaim: Sabrina Carpenter
pairings: oscar piastri x gf!singer!reader
a/n: Excuse any errors english isn’t my main language
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oscxy/n via instagram !
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liked by user167, user189 and 1,560 other.
oscxy/n been missing them more than usual!
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user14 they usually give us nothing but i honestly prefer the “soft” launching then having nothing
-> user189 soft launching?! they’ve been doing that for like five years now. Do they know we know they are dating each other or do we still need to act ?
user17 i know they don’t owe us anything but what if they broke up? Oscar hasn’t been liking y/n’s post since january
user34 i just want what they have!!!
user67 okay but when are we getting popstar x f1 book?
user902 what y/n should do is realease “gross”!!! A instagram post is not enough
user98 let them breathe please!!!!
f1.gossip via instagram !
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liked by landonorris, user15 and 12,000 others.
f1.gossip a close source to the australian F1 driver, Oscar Piastri confirms that he and popstar, Y/n L/n are no longer together after five years of dating. Source claims that the “please please please” singer was found getting extra cozy with her music video love interest for the “Feather” music video.
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user167 this is a lie, they told me personally that they are still together!
user51 can you guys please keep their private life private
user091 gossip pages try not to invade peoples privacy, level 100
user17 why is lando lurking in the likes?
user78 please don’t tell me lando is the “close source”
user51 they have to be together!!! no one is separating my parents
user578 please!!! i know they rarely post each other but let’s make it know that they are still together
user479 guys guys guys!!! this means we are getting a new album
y/n via instagram!
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liked by logansargent, lilymhe and 2,478,892 others.
y/n well, i guess it’s time to write new music again
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user16 omg it is real.
user78 y/n unfollowed oscar!!
user89 guys! guys! guys! i need someone to talk about this!!
user57 i’m sorry but this is insane
logansargent super proud of the new music!
-> user89 now we know who got logan in the divorce
user71 are we finally getting an angsty heartbreak album?!
y/n via instagram stories
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oscarandy/n updates via instagram!
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liked by user17, user67 and 1,493 others
oscarandy/nupdates Oscar in Y/n's album release party?! OMG
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user72 guys? are we all seeing the same thing? the is not Oscar in the first pic
user57 don't be dell they are literally in two different places
user28 guys, let stop this. They clearly broke up. There is no point of digging more into this
user32 well, guess it's time to say goodbye to our Lover
user98 pretty sure we are finally getting a sad album
y/nhq via instagram!
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 2,891,298 others
y/nhq the music video for "Bed Chem" is out right now!! feat. Oscar Piastri
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user18 I thought we were getting a heartbreak album but this is going to be the ovulation album of the century
user71 bed chem is amazing!!!
user910 guys guys guys who can I tell this too
user280 okay but the two of them making out on top of the mclaren was crazyyyy
user18 I didn't know they had it in them
user52 and we thought they broke up, those two were just rehearsing for this damn video
y/n updates via instagram!
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liked by y/n, oscarpiastri and 1,567 others.
y/nupdates Y/n got asked how was filming "Bed Chem" with Oscar.
"Honestly, we were so shy about it at first. Like we usually are really shy when it comes to out relationship and being public about it. Now, by doing this everyone was going to see a part we see behind close doors"
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user19 guys this is crazyyyyy
user28 they are so cute I love them!!
user51 shy? Oscar's hand placement was everything but shy
user28 I know they were obsessed with eachother
user539 she was such a blushing mess in this interview
user78 I love seeing this side of our girl
y/n via insta stories! oscarpiatri via insta!
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oscarpiastri via instagram!
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liked by landonorris, logansargent and 832,902 others.
oscarpiastri so happy to finally be my lovers, love interest. Guess I'll switch professions! (by the way, yes I'm the cute boy with the white jacket and the cute accent!)
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user17 Oscah, you little slut
user78 omg omg we finally get a post of them together
mclaren please don't
user24 they are so cute
user28 Oscar, can you fight?
y/n I love you so so much! My forever love interest
user27 Oscar, we heard bed chem...didn't imagine you as the kinky type
landonorris honestly need to get that song out of my head because I can't imagine you like that
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loonylupinblack3 · 2 months
Text
Shy
Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader
Warnings: swearing, suggestive content
Summary: you have a crush on a certain co-worker but are too shy to tell him. so someone does it for you.
Word count: 2.6k
A/N: THIS WAS A REQUEST BUT WHEN I TRIED TO REPLY TO IT IT DIDNT LET ME AND DELETED IT INSTEAD (also jean is a meddling little shit in this and u just gotta accept that)
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You watched him from across the hall greedily, eyes drinking in his panting form, the sweat coating his chest and back, the strained muscles underneath his wife beater tank top. Logan was a sight for sore eyes on a normal day, but when he was working out? He had you practically rabid for him.
You were sitting on one of the benches, a forgotten book in your hand you hadn’t glanced at in ages, preferring to treat yourself to the image of Logan Howlett hot and sweaty while working out. There were a few other X-men exercising alongside him, and others on the bench with you hanging out so you weren’t too out of place, but everyone could see the way you looked at Logan.
Everyone but Logan himself.
You’d joined the team a few months ago- 5 to be exact- after whispers had gotten to you of a safe space for mutants. Having hidden your true genetic code from everyone else in your life, you jumped at the chance of not having to hide anymore. With your unique skill set too- the ability to formulate and present illusions- you were an exceptional addition to both the X-men and the teaching staff.
You thrived at the X mansion. The kids loved you, you got along well with your fellow teammates, and you had suggested and helped act on several improvements to both the school and the team. You were a good addition, and the other mutants were grateful to have you there.
You’d just had one problem when acclimating to the school. Your teeny, tiny, incredibly small crush on your fellow professor, Logan Howlett. At first you really had thought it would be no big deal. Just a co-worker you had noticed was slightly attractive. That’s all. Other mutants had told you he was hard to talk to, and had a gruff, moody personality, so you’d thought the attraction would soon fade.
Unfortunately it had only grown. The first time you’d realised, shit, this might actually be a problem, was when you’d gone to get a glass of water in the middle of the night and found Logan leaning against the kitchen counter, shirtless, with a beer in hand.
You’d been so flustered, eyes continuously betraying you and straying to his chest that you’d blurted out the first thing that came to your head, “how’d you get beer in here?”
Logan had chuckled, observing you as he brought the beer bottle to his mouth for a sip. “Why? Want some Sweetheart?”
You’d felt heat rise to your face at the nickname, shaking your head. “No, I was just curious.”
Logan stared at you a second longer, eyes trailing your figure appreciatively before shrugging. “Your loss. And unfortunately I can't tell you how I got it. Gotta keep it a secret lest Xavier finds out.”
You were too flustered to argue so you’d just nodded, mumbled a quick goodbye, and quickly walked back to your bedroom. You hadn’t even gotten your glass of water. 
There had been other similar instances over the past few months. Logan just had a way to get under your skin, to cause your heart to go into cardiac arrest every time he looked at you, which made it hard to conceal your ever growing crush on him from literally everyone. Even your students knew about it, or at least had their suspicions, and you prayed they were too intimidated by Logan to ask him any questions about it. The last thing you needed was to get humiliated and have to pack up all your things and leave the home you had just created for yourself because you could no longer look any of your co-workers or students in the eyes again.
Especially Logan.
Things had escalated until you could barely look Logan in the eye anymore, and actively avoided him at all costs. The last thing you wanted to do was embarrass yourself in front of him, and though it was unpleasant you’d decided the best course of action was just to steer clear of him altogether.
Still, you allowed yourself some enjoyment, like watching Logan workout from afar while in a room full of people. The onlookers weren’t the best, but it was better than being alone with him when who knows what would happen.
“Like what you see?”
Storm’s voice dragged you out of your ogling, and you turned to her with a sheepish expression. “Maybe.”
She gave you a knowing look, raising her eyebrows. You ignored it, because you’d heard her suggestions many times before and found they didn’t align with your own interests.
“Go and tell him how you feel.”
And embarrass yourself when he inevitably rejects you? No thanks. You were more comfortable with keeping your feelings suppressed, continuously shoving them down, building a brick wall between them and you, to permanently keep them out. Yet for every single brick you added somewhere below you could feel three more being punched out, slowly destroying your barricades bit by bit. 
Your eyes strayed back to Logan, like they always did, yet surprise striked you when you couldn’t find him. Your eyes scanned the room like a man on a mission, only to realise too late Logan was heading towards you, a towel in his sweaty grip.
He greeted Storm with a nod before his gaze zeroed in on you, and you mentally added another brick to your shield, determined to keep him out this time. 
“Y/n,” he greeted, eyes never straying from your face.
You looked down, fidgeting with your hands. “Logan,” and, because you were incredibly weak willed- “did you have a good workout?”
You swear as you looked back up at him you saw the remnants of a smile on his face, but it was gone in the blink of an eye so you couldn’t be completely sure. You don’t think Logan had ever smiled at you, and you felt the bricks within you start to wobble.
“It was alright,” he said curtly, ever the man of few words. He lingered though, as if debating to say something, when it came out anyway. “I’d like it if you joined us next time.”
You felt your heartbeat increase. You felt the jump and the rapid incline as you processed what he said, your mind swimming.
“Me? But I just do illusions… I don’t have a fight worthy mutation.”
“Which is exactly why you should workout. Build your strength so you don’t need to rely on others and can trust your own body to do the job, regardless of mutations.”
It was the most you think Logan had ever spoken to you all at once, and you were suddenly feeling very dizzy. Logan wanted you to workout with him, to spend time with him. Could you imagine? Standing alongside him while he panted. Sparring and ending up underneath him, his entire body weight crushing you between him. It was almost too much to think about.
You cleared your throat, trying to clear your mind of unhelpful distractions, and found your eyes glued to Logan as he brought the towel to wipe the sweat from his throat, his muscles straining right in front you as he reached behind the back of his neck, wiping the sheen of sweat from his body.
You were staring, you knew that, but you just couldn’t find it in you to look away. It was a godly sight, Logan in front of you, sweaty and staring right at you. How were you supposed to look away?
“Uhm,” you mumbled when Storm stepped on your foot. If she’d noticed your ogling Logan certainly must have, and you felt heat rise to your face at the thought. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll think about it.”
Logan looked at you again, really looked at you, before nodding, slinging the towel over a shoulder. “I hope to see you there.”
And with that he walked away, and you felt the bricks tumbling, clattering away inside you, and you could do nothing to stop it until you felt bare and vulnerable, watching the man walk away with the realisation this might be more than just a silly crush.
You couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t let yourself go too far, even though you could already feel yourself falling. You needed stronger defences, more barricades and walls. And if that meant more space between you and Logan, more avoiding and distance, well, you’d do it. You couldn’ let yourself go past the point of no return with him. You couldn’t.
Your avoidance of Logan had continued ten-fold. Whenever he entered a room you would exit. You would no longer spend time watching him workout or teach or do anything, really. You stayed as isolated from him as possible, and when you couldn’t you stayed silent, eyes fixed ahead of you rather than on him.
Others had noticed. You heard the rumours, whispers of a fight, a break up that occurred between the two of you. It was laughable, the idea that you and Logan had ever been together in the first place.
It was working though, or so you thought. You could feel your shields and barricades strengthening each day, and you continued to build them higher and higher, in the hopes you would eventually not need to avoid Logan, for he would no longer have any effect on you.
Until then you were determined to avoid Logan and spend as little time with him as possible. Unfortunately Logan did not share that sentiment.
You’d just finished up a class, instructing your students to have their homework prepared for next lesson and watched them all file out the door when Logan entered. It was so unexpected you hadn’t a chance to leave before he was upon you, his figure towering over your frame. His arms were crossed and he watched you with a frown on his face, yet you weren’t afraid of it anymore. Sure, you had been originally, but soon you’d discovered behind the frown was usually no ill intent, so you weren’t nervous.
Well you were, extremely so, but not about that.
“Oh, Logan,” you managed, swallowing thickly. “What are you doing here?”
Logan crossed his arms. “We need to talk.”
You winced. “We do?”
He let out an aggravated huff. “LIsten, I don’t know what I did to make you so pissed at me but it can’t be this bad-”
You interrupted him, confused. “Wait, what?”
He sent you a look. “You. Being mad at me. I don’t know why.”
“I’m not mad at you.”
Logan paused, looking at you with a scrutinising gaze. “Yes you are.”
You scoffed at him wrongly telling you how you felt. “No, I’m not.”
“So why are you ignoring me? And don’t say you haven't-” Logan said, noticing you’d opened your mouth to defend yourself. “I know you are. You have been avoiding me for weeks, and if you’re not angry at me I can see no other fathomable reason for why you’re acting like I have the plague.”
I frowned. “You noticed that?”
Logan scoffed. “Of course I noticed it. You don’t even come to training anymore, not even to watch like you used to. Why?”
You shifted uncomfortably on your feet. You obviously couldn’t tell him the real reason, otherwise all the hard work you’d done would be for nothing because you’d end up humiliated and rejected anyway, but you knew Logan could tell when someone was lying from their pulse spiking, and yours certainly would if you lied about this.
You grappled for something to say, anything, to shake him off your trail. “I have to prepare for another class-”
“You’re not preparing for shit until you tell me what’s wrong,” Logan practically growled. “I can stay here all day Bub.”
Well shit. You didn’t really have another choice. You were going to have to tell him about your feelings for him. Literally anything else would have been better. Anything else.
At that exact moment Jean walked into your classroom and relief bloomed in your chest. You were saved, you were safe. You could use Jean as an excuse and-
“She was avoiding you because she has the hots for you, Logan. Something every single person in this school knows except you.”
Well, not anything else apparently.
Logan let out a noise of surprise and looked at you, but your eyes were glued to Jean, horror and betrayal painted on your face. She mouthed ‘your welcome’ and left. What the fuck? Was that the only reason she entered, to butt into your private conversation?
“Y/n. Was what Jean said true?”
You opened your mouth and then closed it, looking like something akin to a gaping fish. “Define truth.”
Logan narrowed his eyes at you, not at all amused, and his silence forced you to continue.
You sighed, preparing yourself for the inevitable heartbreak to come. “Yes, it’s true, alright, but I never intended to act on it and I won’t act on it so you’re fine-”
“Who said I didn’t want you to act on it?”
You started. “W-what?”
Logan took another step until your chest was suddenly pressed against his. “Did I stutter?”
You felt like you were going to stutter if you said anything, so you sort of just… stood there. Waiting. For what exactly, you weren’t sure. Some clarity maybe?
Certainly not Logan grabbing you by the waist and kissing you, so firm and confident you couldn’t help but melt into his embrace. His hands were grabbing your waist, finding the dips in your curves and squeezing there, grabbing them and tugging you towards him.
His lips dragged across yours, adding an air of desperation to the kiss. You couldn’t help but bring your hand up to cup his cheek, thumb stroking his bearded jaw as he kissed you deeper, seeming for all the world like he was never going to stop. You were powerless to stop it, and you found you didn’t even want to. Your walls were crumbling and you gladly let them if it meant you could continue kissing this man.
Logan hefted you up onto your desk and you let out a gasp, muffled by Logan’s lips. He smiled into the kiss anyway, amused by your surprise, and placed his hands on your knees to part them so he could get between your legs. 
You immediately wrapped your legs around his waist, something he liked if the pleased grunt from his throat was anything to go by. His kissing became more fevoured, like he wanted to devour you, and you gladly let yourself drown in him.
That was until the school bell rang, startling you both out of the kiss. Or rather, just you, because Logan seemed content to move to your neck when your lips stopped responding.
“Logan,” you murmured. “I have a class to teach.”
Logan made an angry grunt and continued placing open mouthed kisses to your collarbone. You laughed and gently pushed him away, causing the man to growl and look at you with such irritation you’d think you interrupted his wedding or something.
“I’m busy here,” Logan said.
You had to physically swallow the breathless sigh threatening to escape your lips, instead saying, “we can continue this later.”
“We will continue this later.”
You smiled, almost shyly, which was ironic considering he was still between your legs. “Yeah?”
Logan moved forward so he could whisper into your ear. “Now that I have you Bub, I ain’t ever letting go.”
He pulled back and your smile widened, making a mental note to thank Jean when you next saw her. “I can live with that.”
6K notes · View notes
boltwrites · 1 month
Text
Kitty
Fandom: Marvel; X-Men Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine / Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: M Tags: Suggestive, Logan's cat ear hair, Teasing
Synopsis: Sleep-addled and maybe a little horny, you ask Logan if he does his hair like that on purpose.
A/N: Fun fact about this one - you could replace reader with Deadpool and the fic would probably be the exact same (but probably with more stabbing). Enjoy! Also I almost titled it Kittyuuuuuhhhh but decided against it LMAO. Is this good? No. But I needed to expel it like some kind of demon. Anyway-
You made a soft pleased noise, arching your back as you stretched as far as you could under the thin sheet of your shared bed. Muscled warmed, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, blinking blearily against the morning light that filtered in through the curtains.
You smiled - sleepy and sweet - as you propped yourself on your elbows to see the figure sat at the foot of your bed. Logan was already awake and halfway dressed, jeans hugging his hips as he leaned over to tug on his boots. Meanwhile, here you were - still in the oversized T-shirt you used as pajamas, your hair messy from sleep.
On that thought, your eyes drifted from where they had been admiring the taunt planes of his back, to Logan's own styled hair. He'd already brushed it, those little tufts that curled into what looked like tiny devil horns neatly defined in the soft morning light.
You frowned. Hmm, no, devil horns wasn't quite right. Not really.
You sat up, a hazy plan dancing through your mind as you crawled your way to the end of the bed. Logan glanced back at you - your heart flipped at the soft smile he offered you, making no effort to shy away from your touch.
"Hey, you don't have to get up because of me," he chided. You didn't listen - instead, you draped your arms around his warm shoulders, leaned in to pepper little kisses along his jaw, even if his beard caught most of them. You didn't mind how it tickled.
"But you're wearing my favorite outfit," you insisted, doing your best not to chuckle. You did like him in worn out jeans and no shirt. It looked good on him. Everything looked good on the man, though.
"I'm wearing half an outfit," he replied, turning just enough so that he could press a proper kiss to your lips. You sighed, pillowing your head on his shoulder as his lips met yours - lazy, gentle. Those weren't words you'd use to describe his kisses at any other time of day, really. This was special.
"I know," you replied, offering him a silly smile as you leaned against his shoulder, arm around his chest preventing him from dressing any further. He didn't seem to mind, though, as your free hand carefully carded your way through his hair - making sure not to displace any of his hard work.
"But something I don't know..." you continued, twirling a finger around the tip of one of the tufts. "Is why your hair ends up like this. Do you do it on purpose?"
"Do I do what on purpose?" he asked. It was laced with a chuckle, like he thought this was one of your half-awake musings. And, perhaps it was, in a way. You were, technically half-awake. But you weren't making things up. It was a real question that had crossed your mind on several separate occasions.
"You know-" you insisted, releasing that little bit of hair from your grasp. "The kitty ears."
"The what?"
He laughed it, pulled away from you if only to make sure you caught a glance of his expression - a mixture of shock and amusement that telegraphed to you that he still wasn't taking you seriously.
You rolled your eyes at him, removing your hand from around his shoulders to scratch along his scalp, up to that little tuft of curled hair. He closed his eyes, made a low rumbling noise in his throat that only seemed to further the illusion that he was really just some big cat in disguise.
"The kitty ears," you insisted, "do you or do you not purposefully style your hair so you have these little kitty ear things?"
You sat up on your knees, reaching both your hands up to curl in the tufts - tugging them just hard enough to make his eyes flutter open as he looked up at you.
"Cat ears," he deadpanned, doubt lacing his words. "You think my hair looks like cat ears."
"Kitty ears," you clarified, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "And you didn't answer my question, which means you absolutely do it on purpose."
"No-" Logan started, tone exasperated. But, unfortunately for him, he was already in too deep.
"Nope, sorry-" you laughed, sitting down behind him to wrap your arms around his bare chest, brushing through the downy hair there. "You're my little kitty now."
"Jesus Christ-" he groaned, rolling his eyes as you kissed his cheek. You made to kiss the corner of his lips next, but he turned his head ever so slightly, trying his best to quell the smile that was spreading. He'd just wanted you to pay attention as he insisted:
"I'm not a fucking cat."
"Why not?" you teased, kissing just under his ear with a little smile. "You've got the ears..."
You snaked a hand up to card through his hair again - making sure to rake your blunt nails along his scalp like you knew he loved. And, despite his dismissive tone, you caught his eyes fluttering closed, his lips parting ever so slightly.
"The claws..." you teased, punctuating each word with a new open-mouthed kiss to his neck - the last dotted with a touch of teeth that issued a sweet rumble from low in his throat.
"The fur-" your free hand slid down his chest - down the dips and curves of his defined abs, to tangle in the thicker hair that disappeared below the waistline of his jeans.
"And, I know how to make you purr," you chuckled, fingers dancing at the edge of his belt as your other hand weaved through one of those silly little kitty ears.
Logan wasn't immune to the way you touched him - when he laughed at your ridiculous comments, it was a bit breathless, even if he sounded absolutely exhausted with your antics.
"I have to get dressed," he insisted, his hand drawing over your own where you'd just started to wiggle your fingers under the tight denim. "And you're being ridiculous."
"Hmm," you hummed, nipping at the junction of his neck and shoulder. The muscles there jumped, tensed, then relaxed - and where he'd been grasping at your hand, your fingers briefly intertwined.
"If I remember correctly..." you pondered, nuzzling against his neck. "Kitties don't wear clothes."
"Oh, come on-" he groaned, laughing as he leaned back against your chest, his head pillowed on your shoulder. You grinned down at him. "How long are you gonna keep this shit up?"
"Until you're sick of it," you promised, kissing the corner of his mouth. He rolled his eyes. "Or, you take your pants off."
"We both know you'll keep saying it even if I take my pants off," he countered, his hold on your hand the only thing preventing you from inching your way into his pants.
"Touché. But -" you bargained. "I'd be distracted."
He laughed, loud and full, and your smile grew even more. That - that's what you really liked. When you could finally get some honest joy out of him. He looked so pretty when he smiled like that, even if it was brief. His hand squeezed over yours - soft, possessive, loving. That made your heart flutter even more than the thought of getting him undressed.
But he was right - you were never going to let him live this down.
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