allmyn1ghts

[allmyn1ghts]

LOGAN AS A GIRL DAD°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

just pure fluff with pregnant!reader and logan <3

BEFORE PREGNANCY

being a dad at his age was something logan never imagined. starting a family seemed so out of reach, after everything he’d lived, he never thought that dad was a title he deserved. but then laura came into your life, and it was hard for him because you were a natural, effortlessly knowing how to care for her.

bit by bit, he began to follow your lead, picking up your habit of checking on her before bed and tucking her in, keeping an eye on her plate and making sure she finished her veggie, checking on her when she played outside and even sitting through her favorite cartoons.

and as you watched him, you’d catch yourself wondering what it would be like to bring another little life into this family you were building. the idea of getting pregnant crossed your mind more than once, and you could see it flicker in his eyes too, like an unspoken thought that made its way between you.

—you ever thought of having kids? —he asked, quiet but serious.

you took a few seconds to think about his question. not that you needed them, you'd always wanted to have his kids, and having laura had changed things, deepened the bond between you and logan, and brought your maternal instinct back. she wasn’t your biological child, but in every other way, she was yours.

the thought of bringing up the idea of getting pregnant to logan felt selfish, especially when you knew how much he had already given and how tired he was, you knew that, so you kept your hopes to yourself, not wanting to ask for more than the peace you had found with him and laura.

—we have laura —. you answered.

—yeah, we do. but… that’s not what i’m talking about.

there was a few seconds of silence while he waited for your answer.

—yes, i've thought about it but—

—have you thought about it recently?

you nodded to his question, feeling guilty.

he slowly nodded back to you. —i've been thinking about it too.

DURING PREGNANCY

logan started helping caliban in the kitchen, something that surprised you at first because he had never been much of a cook. but the two of them would work together, preparing meals that were good for you and the baby. logan would quietly chop vegetables or stir a pot, taking caliban’s instructions (also surprising because he had not followed anyone's instructions in a long time) as they worked to make sure you had everything you needed to stay healthy.

he’d help you with things like showering when it became difficult for you to balance or reach certain places. his touch was always gentle, his movements careful, making sure you felt safe. it became an intimate routine, his fingers massaged your scalp with care.

every night he'd gently rub lotion on your growing belly, helping to care for the stretch marks that had started to appear. he knew how self-conscious they made you feel. he could see it in the way you’d glance at your reflection, letting out a frustrated huff each time you noticed a new one, how you’d try to hide it from him, or how you’d wrap yourself in a towel quickly after a shower. so he took his time applying the lotion with steady hands, his eyes focused as if making sure he was doing it right.

—another one? —you muttered, feeling the weight of it.

—doesn’t change a thing —. logan just shook his head, kneeling beside you. —it’s just a mark. i'm covered in marks, and you never cared, right?

laura sat close to you, her eyes focused on your belly as logan gently massaged your skin. she was waiting, as she always did, hoping to see her future sister move. each time logan’s hand smoothed over your growing bump, laura’s gaze would sharpen, her small body leaning forward saying come on, little sis, just one kick. sometimes she’d place her hand beside logan’s, her touch gentle but curious.

—is she going to move soon? —she’d ask in a hushed voice.

logan glanced at her, a small smile tugging at his lips. —she’s already kickin' when you’re not looking —. he teased lightly as he rubbed the cream over your stretch marks, carefully. laura’s eyes never left your belly, waiting for that one special moment.

and he'd give you foot massages, his calloused hands rubbing away the soreness from carrying extra weight. you’d close your eyes, sighing in relief, and he’d smile.

when your clothes stopped fitting, it was he who offered up his own. he’d hand over his t-shirts and flannels, which hung loose on you and smelled like him, making you feel him close to you even when he was away at work.

logan was a bit reluctant at first but when the doctor told him how important prenatal yoga was to you, he didn't have to think about it twice. he wanted to be there and help you in every way he could even though he felt a bit out of place among the soft music, peaceful atmosphere, and expectant mothers, but he never let it show.

he'd help you find comfort in each of the poses the instructor guided everyone. he was often the only man in the class, which certainly caught the attention of the other moms. perhaps they noticed the age gap between you and logan, but more likely, their attention was drawn to your undeniably handsome partner. some of them whispered to each other, half-jokingly expressing their jealousy at how lucky you were to have such a dedicated partner. you both noticed the glances but you were too focused on each other.

as the weeks went by, the mothers would often smile at him, offering you two the kindest words as they saw how attentive he was to your needs.

at the end of the class, logan leaned in and kissed you softly, his hand resting on your back. —you did great —. he murmured, his voice full of pride. as you started to gather your things, one of the mothers nearby smiled and said, you're a lucky girl.

you couldn’t help but blush a little. he gave a small, almost shy smirk in response but didn’t say anything. instead, he focused on helping you with your bag.

the moment you found out you were pregnant, he quit smoking. it was almost instinctive, he wanted nothing but the best for you and the baby, and that included kicking the habit that had stuck with him for years.

and giving up cigarettes was one thing, but quitting drinking was way harder. there were nights he’d sit in the kitchen, staring at the bottle in the cabinet, knowing he could just reach for it. but he remembered you asleep in the other room, a hand resting protectively over your belly, and he’d push the thought away. he didn’t want his daughter growing up with memories of whiskey lingering on her father’s breath.

DURING LABOR

logan was more terrified than he'd ever let you know. he had faced, battles survived unimaginable pain, and lived through horrors but this was different. watching you in pain, knowing that your body was going through something so intense shook him to his core.

he stayed by your side, gripping your hand tightly and leaning in close, his voice encouraging you to push. he'd brush the damp strands of hair that were sticking to your face and press his forehead to yours.

when the baby’s first cry filled the room, logan sighed in relief, his grip on your hand softening as he finally allowed himself to breathe. once the doctors placed her on your chest, logan leaned in by your side, his eyes shining as he looked at you. you did so good, baby, thank you so much he murmured as he kissed your sweaty forehead and one of his fingers brushed across the baby’s little cheek.

AFTER PREGNANCY

at first, he was terrified every time he held her, his usually steady hands suddenly unsure. he was afraid that even his touch might be too much. she was so tiny, so soft and fragile, and her chest rose and fell so peacefully even though her small fingers wrapped around logan's thick ones with such strength. he found himself holding his breath whenever he picked her up.

in those first few days after labor, logan seemed to be everywhere at once. checking on the baby, bringing you food, making sure you were sleeping and laura wasn't trying to sneak into your room to see the baby. she was fascinated by her little sister, how could a human being be so small? laura often asked herself.

logan would catch her on her tiptoes, face with curiosity, and he’d stop her with a gentle but firm hand on her shoulder. laura would pout, glancing past him with wide eyes, eager to get closer, but logan wasn’t having it.

you surprised him when you caught him slipping into a soft, almost comical baby voice whenever he spoke to his daughter. but it was completely unintentional, just something that happened whenever he looked down at her tiny face, her big eyes blinking up at him. oh, what’s that little face all about, huh? you got somethin’ to say, little one? he’d murmur, his voice high and gentle as he rubbed one of her cheeks.

logan never thought he’d find joy in something as simple as dressing up his little girl, but there he was, surrounded by tiny clothes, immersed in a world of pastels and patterns. the laughter that escaped his lips as he put together the outfits was genuine. alright, sweetheart, what do you think of this one? he would ask her, holding the little one in front of the mirror. the baby had no idea what was going on, but logan nodded, approving the outfit. he’d try on multiple outfits, taking photos, and sending them to you for your opinion. how about this for school? he’d text you, proudly. this one’s a bold choice, but i think you can pull it off, he’d tease, pretending to be a fashion critic.

leaving for work each day became one of the hardest things logan had to do. he hated those hours he spent apart from the three of you. and every night when he came home, the baby was already sleeping but he'd tiptoe over to the crib, and he'd place a gentle kiss on the top of her head. then he’d make his way to bed, crawling next to you and pulling you close against his chest. he’d nuzzle his head close, murmuring softly, you okay, darlin’? and though you’d only mumble a half-coherent answer, he’d still give a small, satisfied nod.

and when he gets out of work earlier, he comes home exhausted, and you can see it in his face, the tired lines around his eyes, the slight droop of his shoulders, the way he rubs the back of his neck, but despite that, he is never too tired to play with his baby girl.

as the baby grew, logan took on new challenges, like driving her to school each morning, packing her tiny backpack with her favorite snacks, and doing her hair. with dark brown locks just like laura's and his own, he gathered them into two little ponytails, a bit clumsy at first, his fingers were used to fighting and rough work, not delicate hairstyles.

laura, after seeing how much fun logan had with the little girl’s hair, wanted no less. she’d approach him, eyes bright with excitement. —can you do my hair too, logan?

—your mom can do it for you. she's much better at it than i am —. he answered, not sure if his hairdressing skills would meet the older girl's expectations.

—but i want you to do it!

logan huffed, ruffling her hair with his free hand. he used the same care gathering laura's long hair as he did for her baby sister and he found it incredibly satisfying to see laura's face light up when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

after all, he was meant to be a girl's dad. every moment with you and your daughters reminded him that all those years of solitude and struggles, had led him here to a life filled with love. he might have thought being a dad was beyond his reach, but now, he knew he was exactly where he was meant to be.

[allmyn1ghts]

This family keeps Jey stressed.

[allmyn1ghts]

First Time

just riding on Eddie's motorcycle for the first time hehe

fluff!!!!

word count: 1k-ish

a/n: I know this is different from my normal content, but I just recently watched all three Venom movies and I fell in love with yet another sweaty man who rides a motorcycle

“Hop on, sweetheart.”

Eddie Brock stood before you in a worn leather jacket with equally as worn jeans, leaning on the back of his matte-black motorcycle. His arm was outstretched, offering you an equally black helmet for you to wear. 

Shifting uncomfortably in one of Eddie's oversized hoodies, you looked the machine over. “Ed, baby, I've never ridden one of these before. Are you sure?” 

He faked a gasp and put a hand to his chest. “How dare you question my skill!” You simply rolled your eyes and huffed out a laugh as a response.

TELL THEM I WILL NOT GIVE THEM ANY OF MY CHOCOLATE IF THEY DO NOT GET ON THE BIKE. THREATENING HUMANS USUALLY WORKS.

Ignoring the symbiote, Eddie stepped closer and dropped the bike helmet onto the soft grass below so he could take hold of your hips instead. “I promise you'll be fine. I've ridden this thing half of my life. Besides, you have an excuse to wrap your arms around me to keep steady.” He punctuated his sentence with a wink, and you bashfully ducked your head down, feeling heat rise to your ears and cheeks. 

“Okay. I trust you.” You spoke genuinely, gazing into your boyfriend's eyes. 

EDDIE. I LIKE THEM. DON'T FUCK THIS UP. 

Eddie huffed out a laugh but once again did not acknowledge his other partner.

You got onto your tiptoes to pull him into a loving kiss, something that he often teased you about. His right hand left your hip to tenderly caress your jaw. He was the first one to pull back from the kiss, leaving you slightly chasing the feeling. He cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “You sure you just wanna do a movie night tonight, baby?” He teased.

“Oh my God, just get on the bike already!” You giggled, softly striking Eddie's shoulder. He defensively held his palms in front of him before strolling back over to the bike. Taking hold of the handles, he swung his leg over to straddle the seat of the bike, resting his foot slightly on the kickstand. 

Suddenly, two tendrils sprouted out of Eddie's back and grabbed both sides of the helmet like a pair of hands. The tendrils gently placed the helmet on your head, lightly patting the top of it with a slight squelching sound. 

The source of the tendrils slithered out of the back of Eddie as well. Venom tilted their head and bared their teeth at you, but you somehow knew that it was in a caring manner. “YOU WILL BE SAFE, (Y/N.) I WILL NOT LET ANY HARM COME TO YOU OR EDDIE.” 

You adjusted the helmet on your head and walked towards the bike that the love(s) of your life was sitting on. “I know you wouldn't. Thank you, Vee.” You took one of the cold tendrils in your hand and kissed the end. Venom let out something akin to a purr before retreating back into Eddie so you could sit comfortably on the back of the bike. 

It took you a couple of tries for your leg to swing over the bike, your short stature fighting against you. Even though the sound of the world around you was muffled because of the helmet, you could pick out the sound of Eddie chuckling at your struggle. 

Finally, you get your leg hooked over the bike and wrapped your arms around Eddie. Craning his neck, he glanced behind his shoulder to give you a questioning thumbs up, asking if you were ready for him to accelerate. You reciprocated the thumbs up, and before you could return your hand back to his waist, he took your left hand in his and brought it to his mouth to give it a tender kiss. He couldn't see your reaction, but he knew you were blushing behind him. Your arms squeezed his waist, a bit harder than before in anticipation.

Out of the corner of your vision, you could see Venom morphing into Eddie's hands that were gripping the bike handles, adding an extra layer of safety for you, and a romantic gesture for Eddie. 

He flicked up the kickstand and started the engine. Embarrassingly, you jumped a little bit at the sudden start, but you soon got used to the rumble of the machine below you. He revved the bike a couple of times, an added warning to you that he was about to start moving. You took a deep breath and made sure your feet were firmly planted on the passenger footrests. 

He started slow, both to not startle you and because you were in a residential neighborhood area. Unfortunately for you, the twenty minute journey to Eddie's house required him to go onto the highway for most of the trip, so your eyes were firmly closed until you felt him get onto the straightaway, your face nuzzling into his back as much as the helmet would allow. 

Mustering up all of your courage, you slowly lifted your head off of your boyfriend's back to gaze at your surroundings. It was around 8 pm, so there weren't a ton of cars around you. The sky was getting dark, and it juxtaposed the bright billboards and neon signs Eddie flew passed. It was very pretty, actually. 

Now that you have gotten used to the feeling of higher speeds and knowing that Venom would keep both of you safe, you managed to take one of your hands off of his waist and rest it on his shoulder, rubbing the back of it lovingly with your thumb. Eddie’s head tilted to the right, like he was trying to lean into your touch while keeping his eyes on the road.

By the time you had rested your hand back to its original position, you were pulling up in his driveway. 

Once the motorcycle rumbled to a complete stop, he quickly extended the kickstand and got off the bike to face you. Gently pulling the helmet off, he questioned, “You okay, babe? I didn't go too fast, did I? I can scold V if you want me to.” 

“It actually wasn't that bad.” You snickered. “I appreciate you taking it slow.”

Eddie chivalrously offered you his hand, even kissing it while helping you up and meeting your lips with his when you finally stood before him, pulling you close by your belt loops.

This was partially to cover up a comment made by his alien companion, but you heard it, nonetheless.

“PUSSY.”

[allmyn1ghts]

nicholas alexander chavez

[allmyn1ghts]

THEY WERE HOLDING HANDS

[allmyn1ghts]

Logan Howlett X-Men (2000)

[allmyn1ghts]

I'm so sorry but I've never seen a more sexually appealing photograph in my life dear god

[allmyn1ghts]

naked in san myshuno doesn't have the same ring to it

[allmyn1ghts]

˙⟡♡ UPDOS ˙⟡♡

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

Part 2 here Part 3 Huge Thanks to the Creators ❥ @goamazons @ice-creamforbreakfast @savage-sims @aladdin-the-simmer @sashima @sehablasimlish @oakiyo @aharris00britney @qicc @arethabee @greenllamas @marsosims

[allmyn1ghts]

❥ Curly Hair Maxis Match Edition Part 4 ❥

Part 1 2 3

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25

Huge Thanks To The Creators❥ @cazhan @aharris00britney @zurkdesign @daylifesims @dogsill @thatonegreenleaf @twisted-cat @greenllamas @simandy @thekunstwollen @oakiyo @sunivaa @candysims4 @goamazons @simstrouble @mercisims @savage-sims @simcelebrity00 @divinecap @plunni

[allmyn1ghts]

hes insanee omg someone hold me back

[allmyn1ghts]

you could hear my heart shattering into pieces

[allmyn1ghts]

— The Batman (2022) dir. Matt Reeves

[allmyn1ghts]

[allmyn1ghts]

In character compared to out of character

he's so beautiful

[allmyn1ghts]

starting at 12am

[allmyn1ghts]

soft and serene (let me feel you on my lips)

pair: logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 2.4k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, a little sub!logan leaning, gratuitous amounts of dirty talk, MEN IN PANTIES RAHHH, oral sex (male!receiving), face fucking, tiny pain kink, nat writing a blowjob scene the world must be ending, porn w/o plot, no use of yn.

nat's note: okay i wrote this way faster than i expected to so...here! think of it as a little smutty offering while i work on some more plot heavy fics! i also went ahead and tagged everyone who's filled out my taglist, but i know men in panties isn't everyone's thing so if you aren't interested feel free to ignore this one lol kisses!

logan's not a virgin by any means, but he's still wearing white...

You still can’t believe Logan agreed to this in the first place. It’s a miracle in itself really. He's not the kind of man you'd call 'easily persuaded' but that never mattered when it came to you.

"I swear to God, kid." Logan's deep voice rings from the bathroom, apprehensive and overly serious. "If you fuckin' laugh…”

You roll your eyes, fingers laced together on top of your stomach as you lay back on your shared bed. “I’m not gonna laugh, promise.”

There's a long pause coming from the bathroom, but you can still hear him shuffling around. The soft sounds of fabric rustling echoing off the tiles as he moves. Your heart picks up in your chest, pulse fluttering wildly as you wait.

After what feels like an eternity, Logan finally steps out, and your breath catches in your throat.

Your greedy eyes rake over the miles and miles of tan skin on display just for you. Hungry gaze trailing all the way from the strong planes of his chest, to the contours of his abs, to finally rest on the simple pair of lacy white panties you picked out all those months ago.

They cling to his body perfectly. Snug across his hips like a second skin, showing off the corded muscle of his hairy thighs, looking both out of place and somehow perfect on him all at once.

The sight of him—all raw power and hard lines—framed by something so soft, is irresistible.

For just a moment, it's like your brain can't quite comprehend what's in front of you. It's almost absurd—like a wolf caught in a garden of roses. A juxtaposition that sends arousal leaking sticky and wet in your own panties.

Logan clears his throat, breaking the silence as he shifts uncomfortably on his feet. You tear your eyes away from his body and back up to his face.

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes, like he’s testing the waters, gauging your reaction. You can tell that every bit of him wants to exude how much he doesn't like this.

You can see it in the hard stare he's giving you, in the tight clench of his jaw, in the stiffness of his posture.

Luckily for the both of you, you can also see right through him.

Once you push past all the for show huffing and puffing, all the deep set frown lines, all the faux angry glares—there's no denying that Logan is hard.

The evidence is right in front of you, the jut of his cock pressing lewdly against the lace.

He's too big, you think a little hysterically, too big to be contained in the delicate frilliness of the fabric. His cock is forced to stick straight up, pressed against the coarse trail of hair down his stomach.

“See,” you say, voice gone high and breathy, your throat suddenly a lot drier than before. “Not laughing…”

Your eyes fall back to where his tip sticks out from the ruffled waistband, already flushed an angry red color, a pearly drop of pre-come beading at the slit.

Logan rolls his eyes, scoffing a bit, but you notice the slight color creeping up his cheeks. “Oh yeah? Well you’re a hell of an actor, ‘cause I feel like a fuckin' idiot.”

You shake your head slowly as you sit up, the sheets sliding off your bare legs when you push onto your knees.

The mattress dips under your weight as you crawl towards the edge of the bed, the comforter making small 'shushing' sounds under your hands.

"You look..." you trail off quietly, lost for words as you inch closer. There's an electric tension in the air, one you can almost taste as you move closer, beckoning Logan over with a single jerk of your head. "Come here."

Logan sucks in a sharp breath, hands clenching into tight fists at his sides. He hesitates, the rigidness of his posture betraying his desire to comply and his innate reluctance to fully embrace the soft vulnerability of the situation.

But he's obviously never been good at denying you, not for long anyways. Especially when it comes to things you really want, and God do you want.

He takes a step forward, the powerful muscles of his legs flexing as he crosses the distance between you in just a few long strides. You don't miss the way his breath catches when the fabric rubs over his cock as he moves.

You're drawn to him like a moth to a flame, reaching out before you can stop yourself. You shudder at the first brush of your fingertips against the lacy fabric, a feather light touch where the waistband meets his skin.

“You’re so fucking hot,” you murmur, your voice thick with need as your gaze flicks up to meet his.

The deepening flush in his cheeks only fuels the fire igniting between your thighs.

He shifts again, a low groan rumbling in his chest at your touch. "You're just sayin' that," he mutters, but there’s an undeniable edge to his voice, a tightness to his tone.

You lean forward, resting your hands on his thighs, the muscles flex under your touch.

“You want me to prove it?” You glance up at him through your lashes, feigning innocence, and the way his gaze snaps to yours tells you he’s intrigued.

"Baby, if you—" He starts, but you cut him off by ducking your head to press your lips over the sharp 'v' cut of his torso slightly covered by the panties.

Logan hisses through grit teeth, cock twitching sharply under the fabric as your breath fans hot over his skin. You can feel the heat radiating from him, making your own body tingle in response.

“Jesus,” he shudders, big hands falling to grip your shoulders as you press a matching kiss to the other side of his hips. “A damn pair of panties got you this worked up?”

“It’s not just any pair, Logan,” you reply, voice gone low and saccharine. “It’s your pair.”

Logan groans like he’s been shot, the muscles in his stomach jumping as even more pre-come oozes from his tip. It drips down to soak into the lace enticingly, your mouth waters with the need suck it out of the fabric.

The way your hands skim his torso, the way your eyes drink him in, full of unfiltered need—Logan doesn’t miss any of it. His gaze softens, and that begrudging, guarded look begins to fade. 

You can practically feel the moment he starts to let himself enjoy it.

His grip on your shoulders tightens, not in restraint, but in urgency, as if he’s anchoring himself against the tidal wave of desire crashing over him. He gives you a firm squeeze—a silent plea for you to keep going.

Normally, you'd fold like a house of cards right away.

Any other time and you might have ripped the panties down his thighs without a second thought and given him what he wants.

But something different blooms in your chest at the sheer power you feel, at the rush of having Logan completely at your mercy.

You want to make him work for it, just a little.

"Tell me what you want," you whisper softly, lips brushing against his skin with every word. You slide your hands up and down his thighs soothingly, nails scratching through the coarse hair scattered there.

“Fuck…” he breathes, voice heavy with desire. You can hear the struggle in his words, the way he’s trying to hold onto his tough demeanor while your mouth is inches away from where he wants it most.

"Come on, baby," you mutter, peering up at him teasingly. Relishing in the dark flush decorating his cheeks, at the tense cut of his jaw working furiously beneath his skin. "You know I'll give it to you, all you have to do is tell me."

Logan grits his teeth, fingertips digging into your shoulders hard enough to leave a dull ache. "I want your mouth," he finally bites out, the confession slipping from him like a surrender.

You hum in satisfaction, scraping your teeth over the familiar vein peeking out from his waistband. "Where?"

Logan tilts his head back, exposing the tan column of his neck as he screws his eyes shut, like he's collecting the words before he can say them. His hips twitch involuntarily toward you, his restraint wearing thin.

"On my cock," he groans lowly, voice cracking on the last syllable.

A wicked smile pulls at your lips, and you reward him with the barest flick of your tongue against the head of his cock, right where it's peeking from the lace.

"Good boy," you purr, relishing the faint tremor that rocks through his body at the praise.

But you’re not about to rush this. Not when he's already this wound up, this close to the edge.

You dip your head, running your tongue along the hard length of him, reveling in the rough feel of the lace against your tongue. You moan at the taste seeping through, heady and familiar and him.

“Fuck,” he exhales softly, big hands coming up to cradle the back of your head gently. His grip isn’t harsh, just firm. Hand squeezing you half in restraint, half in sheer, desperate need. “You’re—shit,” His voice is rough, heavy with arousal. “You’re killin’ me.”

You lean back, a soft moan falling from your lips as you take in the result of your efforts.

The front of his panties are entirely soaked through with your spit, the white fabric turned translucent enough for you to see the way his cock strains against the fabric.

“Good,” you murmur, close enough that your lips graze him through the lace. “How’s it feel, Lo?”

"Feels...too damn good," he grits out, his voice rough, as dark and deep as a midnight sky. 

The sound of it spurs you on, and you hook your fingers under the thin waistband, pulling it down just enough to free him, reveling in the way his cock juts forward, heavy and thick, glistening with arousal.

With one last smirk, you take him between your lips, mouth dropping inch by torturous inch, savoring the weight of him on your tongue, the way he gasps your name, gripping your hair tight like he's holding on for dear life. 

“Christ, darlin'…I can't handle this shit,” he mutters, voice strained and raw with need. “You’re so goddamn perfect.”

You flick your eyes up to his face, Logan stares back at you with something close to worship swirling through his hazel eyes. His pupils swallow most of the color, spreading black like spilled ink along a piece of paper.

Logan brings his hand down to cup your cheek, thumbing at where your slick lips are spread wide around him. “You know what you do to me?” He sounds reverent, his usual control splintering under your touch. “Could watch you like this forever, on your knees, pretty little mouth on me…”

You don’t reply, eyes fluttering shut as you swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, dipping into his slit to lick up the mess of pre-come. Logan tugs on your hair by the roots, the dull sting of it enough to make you moan around him.

“Jesus—just like that, baby,” he growls, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re so damn good at this, gonna drive me fuckin’ crazy.”

You take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks as you begin to bob your head, drawing him further into your warmth. The sounds he makes are music to your ears—grunts and groans that resonate in your chest, echoing through the air like a symphony.

You know he’s close, the tiny jerks of his hips giving him away. Short, aborted, thrusts like he can’t help but chase the warm wetness of your willing mouth.

“Shit yes,” Logan gasps, his hands grip your hair, anchoring himself as he thrusts forward, the lace catching on the skin of your cheeks as he fucks your mouth. “Just like that. You take it so well, honey. I could come just watchin’ you.”

His rambling only spurs you on, pushing you to double your efforts. 

You pick up the pace, working your mouth around him with a new fervor, lips gliding over his length while your tongue dances along the sensitive underside, flicking and swirling with intent. Spit leaks from the sides of your mouth to drip down his heavy balls and slick his inner thighs. 

“Fuck, don’t stop,” he urges, his voice strained, and you can feel the urgency in his tone. “Just like that. You’re gonna make me—”

That’s as far as he gets before you dig your nails into the skin of his thighs, raking them down hard enough to leave red welts behind. With one last cracked shout of your name, he’s coming in thick spurts down your throat.

You hum contently, greedily swallowing down each mouthful. The taste of him—salty, hot, intoxicating—only fuels the fire burning inside you. 

You’re mesmerized by the sheer force of his pleasure, the way he grips your hair tightly, like he’s afraid you might pull away, even though you’re completely lost in the moment.

Logan's body trembles, each wave of ecstasy causing him to shake above you as he rides out his high. 

Finally, he gives your hair a gentle tug and you pull back, letting him slip from your mouth with a soft pop, lips swollen and slick as you look up at him with a smirk. "Still feel like an idiot?" you ask, your voice a breathy whisper.

Logan stares down at you, his dark eyes wild, jaw slack as he catches his breath. "Not even close, honey," he growls, yanking you up for a heated kiss, his hands slipping around your waist as he collapses back onto the bed with you on top of him.

You laugh against his mouth, dragging your tongue along his bottom lip teasingly. "Guess the lace wasn’t so bad after all, huh?" you mutter quietly, pressing your forehead to his.

Logan lets out a breathless chuckle, eyes dark and hazy as he nuzzles his nose into your cheek softly. "Don't get used to it, sweetheart," he warns, his voice hoarse but tinged with laughter.

But from the way his eyes roam over you, hungry and insatiable, you have a feeling he wouldn’t mind indulging you again—not just this once.

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!