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gothgoblinbabe · 6 months ago

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『Obsessed』

Sub!Logan Howlett x Dom!fem reader

A/N: haiiiiiii I take forever to write im so sorry but I'm real proud of this one and I hope ya'll like it because there is a criminal lack of sub!Logan content

Warnings: NSFW//18+, swearing, sub!logan x dom!fem reader, friends to lovers, mutual pining, Logan’s a lil perverted in this one (steals your underwear), unprotected sex (pls dont do that), oral (F receiving), Handjob, uuuh cum eating sorry not sorry this ones a lil’ nasty, and if I missed any please let me know! ps I only proof read this once so pls forgive me for any mistakes

Summary: You and Logan are left alone for the weekend to supervise the kids while everyones out, but he can't help himself from going a step too far with his infatuation with you

Word Count: 12K

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Logan didn’t like the word ‘obsessed’. He thought it made him sound like a creep - which, maybe he was, at this point.

He preferred terms like ‘infatuated’ or ‘bewitched’. Those sounded like much better words to describe what he felt for you. It was so overpowering that it may have even been considered something more than an obsession. Everything about you was intoxicating; you put him under your influence and kept him wrapped around your finger. You had him from the moment he saw you for the first time, you just had no idea. He remembered seeing you enter the room and lock eyes with him. He never believed in love at first sight, it was total bullshit. Total bullshit, until he felt it with you.

He did everything he could to conceal it, though, knowing he was not immune to rejection.

You considered Logan one of your closest and best friends. He was always playfully teasing you, sometimes to the point where your face became warm. It actually only took a couple weeks for him to be positive that he was head over heels for you. He started calling you things like ‘princess’ and ‘pretty girl’, as if they were your first name. He liked to see your gorgeous smile when he joked with you and hear your laugh that sounded like music to his ears. You were the first thing he thought about when he woke up in the morning and his last thought before bed. He couldn’t escape his feelings for you if he tried. Months of admiring you under the guise of strictly friendship was starting to eat away at his self-discipline, though. It became harder to leave you alone.

His attempts to be close to you in any way possible were becoming bolder. Playfully swinging an arm around your shoulder so he could be close to you and smell your shampoo. Offering his hoodie when he could see you were cold so that he could fall asleep with his face in it after you gave it back. Even Logan himself understood he bordered on being a total creep, balancing on the thin line between that and what he understood to be infatuation. He’d still let you push him over into either side, regardless.

Things got so much worse - or better? - for Logan when you both found out you’d be in the mansion, alone, for the weekend. Someone had to stay back and help with the kids while the others completed a mission and you were always quick to volunteer your free time to help - another thing he loved about you. He volunteered the second you did, of course, earning an amused eye roll from Scott. It didn’t take a genius to see he liked you - you were just blinded by the idea that he couldn’t possibly see you as more than a friend and colleague.

“So, what are we thinkin’ for this weekend? Mario kart tournament? Guitar Hero battle? We’ve got to think of something to keep the little creatures entertained,” you chatted with Logan as you walked side by side down the corridor. He always found it amusing when you called them that.

“Maybe we can give ‘em each a gameboy and just lock ‘em in their rooms for the weekend.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice? Oh, maybe we can trick them into cleaning something.”

“You want to try to trick a group of kids with mutant abilities? You know some of them are telepathic, right?”

“Well,” you realized he was right and tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, “there goes that idea.”

“We’ll figure something out.”

He wanted to give helpful input or ideas, he really did, but he couldn’t get the idea of being alone with you out of his mind. You’d been alone together, yeah - on missions, errands, doing whatever - but never at home. Never in a place where you both had bedrooms - where there was even a possibility of anything.

In order for there to even begin to be a possibility that something would come out of being alone with you, though, he reminded himself he actually had to be able to confess his feelings to you first.

He was lost in thought, so much so that he didn’t notice you had asked him something until you had to snap your fingers in front of his face to get his attention.

“Earth to Howlett,” you giggled, “anybody there?”

“Hm? Yeah, yeah. Just tired.”

“Didn’t hear what I said?”

He pursed his lips and you understood that to be an answer before he even opened his mouth.

“I asked you to go gather some of the kids and figure out if they have any ideas for something to do.”

“Got it.”

A little while later, you met with him in the living room. You each had a gaggle of children behind you.

“Okay, everybody sit,” Logan instructed, but they were all chatting far too loud with each other to even hear him.

“Sit!” you yelled.

Instantly, every child in the room found a seat and went completely silent with their attention to you.

“Thank you,” you sighed, “alright, who wants to go with me?”

About half the room raised their hands.

“Okay, who wants to go with Logan?”

The other half of the room raised their hands.

“I guess that works out,” Logan shrugged.

He let the kids drag him off to do whatever it was they would decide on while you stayed with yours.

After maybe fifteen minutes of back and forth amongst the children, the majority decided on baking treats.

“Really?” you were a little surprised when they told you because of how simple you assumed the task would be, “Awesome! Everybody in the kitchen.”

You thought you’d give the kids the box mixes of muffins and cupcakes as well as a couple of logs of frozen cookie dough and they’d take it from there. Unfortunately, that was not what happened.

Ten minutes into the activity, you were already having to clean cake batter off the walls and flour off the floor.

“Oh, nope - no, no raw egg, I already told you that! Spit it out, spit, go,” you scolded one of the kids and directed him to the sink when you saw him crack an egg directly into his mouth.

“Dear god,” you muttered under your breath.

Another little girl yelled your name and you turned around. One of the bowls of raw batter was in the air.

You sighed and rubbed your temples.

“Teddy. Put it down, now” you knew exactly which one of them was the troublemaker.

The child in question was smiling wide.

“If you say so, miss.”

The bowl instantly dropped with a loud echo and its contents splattered everywhere.

You wiped a glob of batter off of your cheek.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath, “Teddy, you’re going to clean all of that up or you’re spending the weekend in your room. Everyone else, if you pull anything like that, you’re doing the same. Got it?”

The children nodded and agreed in synchronization.

“Good.”

From then on, things seemingly went pretty smoothly.

You were chatting with a group of girls and helping them ice some of the cupcakes when one of them insisted she had to ask you a question.

“What do you do when you like somebody? Like…really like someone.”

She was one of the older girls, Alice, who was probably around seventeen. She looked away nervously and you smiled.

“Why? Do you really like somebody?” you lightly teased. You didn’t want to embarrass her, of course, but you thought it was cute that she came to you to ask.

“Yes!” one of the younger girls answered for her, leaning in to whisper to the group, “she likes Teddy.”

“Shut up!” Alice hissed, throwing one of the plastic whisks in her direction without actually lifting a finger, “I do not!”

“You write ‘A+T’ on everything!” the younger girl retorted, snickering.

“Okay, okay - leave her be,” you instructed, turning your attention back to the girl beside you, “I think when you really like somebody, you should tell them. It’s easier said than done, but you’ll feel so much better after you’ve done something about it instead of bottling up your feelings.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. Trust me, anything worth doing is scary. The worst thing that can happen is that they don’t feel the same way, and if that’s the case - there's plenty of people you’ll love in your lifetime.”

Alice nodded and exchanged amused expressions with her friend that sat on the other side of her.

“What?” you asked, laughing a little and looking between the two of them.

“So, is that what you did with Professor Logan?”

The both of them raised their eyebrows and giggled.

“W- um,” you cleared your throat, “what?”

“Oh, come on!” Alice rolled her eyes, “we may be kids, but we’re not blind.”

You narrowed your eyes at them and bit the inside of your cheek with your hand on your hip. After a moment of thought, you leaned down and spoke in a whisper.

“Not a word to him, understand? I swear, I’ll fail you both.”

“He likes you, you know,” Alice said, wiggling her eyebrows, “we can definitely tell.”

“Sure, he does,” you replied in a sarcastic tone and scoffed.

You’d had feelings for Logan for so long that you thought you’d learned to hide it well. Apparently not.

You considered him to be one of your closest friends. He playfully teased you on a regular basis, stayed up late to talk with you for hours, even held you when you cried - things good friends do. But his touch lingered when you brushed hands, you often caught him staring and he always stood so close to you - all little signs that made you feel as though there could possibly be something more. You figured that you were so close that if he really felt anything for you, though, he would’ve been direct and honest with you.

If only these two girls knew how you felt, you weren’t too nervous about it getting back to him. Kids started rumors all the time, you knew he’d take it with a grain of salt if one of them was bold enough to tell him.

You hadn’t considered how quick kids could be, though.

Logan was outside with his gaggle of kids, passing around a basketball with some of them while the others occupied themselves in the grass. The hot sun beating down on them was enough to make them sweat on its own but combined with the physical activity, it wasn’t long before everyone needed a break.

Logan sat on the grass to catch his breath, leaning back on his hands. Almost as soon as he sat down, one of the boys who had been playing sat across from him with two of his other friends.

“Hey,” he greeted them, squinting in the sun.

“I’ve got a question,” one of them said directly. He was probably about nine or ten.

“Alright,” he nodded, “shoot.”

“What do you do if you really like a girl?”

He quirked an eyebrow.

“You like a girl?”

“I never said that.”

“He does,” one of the boy’s friends interjected, “he’s always teasing her.”

“Shut up!” he replied and punched the other boy in the arm.

“Okay, listen,” Logan started, leaning forward, “first, you can’t tease a girl just ‘cause you like her. That’s not cool. If anything, it’ll make her dislike you.”

The boy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and tilted his head. He brought up your name in a curious tone.

“How come you do it to her, then? You like her and you do it.”

Logan feigned a confused expression.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, kid.”

“Dude,” one of the other boys raised his eyebrows.

“Dude,” Logan mocked him, “zip it.”

“Is that a yes?”

“ ‘Yes’ to what?”

“You like her.”

“No.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Nu-uh.”

“Yes.”

“Kid, I’m losin’ patience,” He huffed, taking a sip from his water bottle.

The young boy shrugged, ��she likes you back, you know.”

He choked on his water and coughed, taking a moment to catch his breath. One of the other boys reached over and patted him on the back.

“Just went down the wrong way,” Logan wheezed, but none of them bought the excuse. His chest felt tight when he thought about the possibility of you liking him in any capacity that was more than friends.

“Anyway,” he continued with a deep breath, “If you like a girl, you should be nice to her. Bring her flowers, tell her she’s pretty - the classic stuff.”

“Gross,” the boy cringed.

He laughed and shook his head.

“So, did you give her flowers?”

“Who?”

The boy said your name again and Logan sighed.

“Bub, we work together - it’s not like that, alright?”

“Then why do you stare at her all the time?”

He pursed his lips and one of the boys stifled a laugh.

“I think she’s pretty,” he admitted, “I can look at her, that doesn’t mean I like her like that.”

They all giggled and began singing the k-i-s-s-i-n-g rhyme with your name and Logan’s.

“Okay,” he stood, crossing his arms, “if you three don't shut your mouths, I’m gonna hang each of you from a flag pole by your underwear.”

They all shuddered and didn’t say another word.

Later in the evening, all of the kids gathered in the living room to have a movie night. They were crowded on and around the couch with some on the floor or on bean bags. The coffee table was littered with popcorn, muffins and half eaten cookies. You were tucked into the corner of the couch with Logan, a fuzzy blanket draped over both your knees. Your eyes were focused on the movie but he noticed you shiver and draped his arm around your shoulder to pull you into him.

“You cold?”

“A little bit,” you answered honestly and pulled the blanket up further but he immediately unzipped his sweatshirt and held it out for you to put on.

“Logan -”

“Sh,” he held the sweatshirt open for you to put your arms through the sleeves, “take it.”

You sighed and obeyed, turning so you could do as he asked and shrug it on. When he saw you looking so cozy in his sweatshirt, he couldn’t help but tug you back into his side with his arm around you. He could hear your heart beat faster than it had before and he smiled to himself. Sometimes he thought you could feel the same way he did, but never wanted to get his hopes up. Neither you nor Logan could take your own advice that you’d given to the kids.

Somewhere in the middle of the movie, you positioned yourself to lay on your back with your legs over his lap and a pillow tucked under your head. By the time the film ended, you were fast asleep. Logan instructed the kids to take themselves to bed and they dispersed to do as they were told. A couple of them snickered as they passed by, seeing your legs on his lap while you snored softly.

When they had all disappeared from the room, he couldn’t help himself from taking a moment to just admire you. You looked so peaceful with your lips slightly parted and your eyes closed. You had the blanket tucked up to your chin with the sleeves of his sweatshirt covering your hands. He hesitantly reached over to swipe a strand of hair from your forehead and let his hand softly graze your cheek. He leaned down and tenderly planted a gentle kiss on your cheek, becoming enamored with the smell of your perfume that overwhelmed his senses.

“I really do wish I could tell you how much I love you,” he whispered as quietly as possible when he pulled away from you. He sighed and hooked one arm under your knees and the other around your back so he could stand with you against his chest. He began to walk with you to the stairs, pressing his lips into the top of your head every now and then. You sleepily mumbled nonsense into his shirt, pressing your face into his chest and softly giggling from the pleasant feeling of the warm cotton.

“You’re real tired, huh, darlin’?” he whispered as he climbed up the stairs with you in his arms, but you were silent again. When he finally got to your room, he opened the door and laid you gently into your bed. You immediately made yourself comfortable with your knees curled up to your chest. He tucked your comforter over you and you began to snore again, indicating you were probably out for good. It wasn’t a surprise that handling rowdy kids all day had made you exhausted.

Again, he stood for a second to watch you. He wanted so badly to just crawl into bed with you, wrap his arms around you and hold you to his chest while you both fell asleep. Your room smelled so much like you that he imagined your bed probably smelled even more heavenly. He wanted to bury his face in your pillows and be nearly sedated from the fragrance of your hair. He wanted to be surrounded and swallowed by you.

Well aware that his behavior of watching you sleep was weird at best, he turned to leave your room. As he did, though, his eyes caught something that made his palms start to sweat. Directly on top of your dirty laundry basket, like a cherry on top of a sundae, was a red, lacy pair of panties.

He knew it was wrong. He knew it was perverted. Would you notice if they were gone? Would you suspect him at all? Still, he couldn’t help himself.

He picked up the soft fabric and looked back to be sure you were still asleep. Knowing you were, he held the garment up and suppressed a moan. They were nearly see-through. He pressed the gusset of the panties up to his nose and thought his knees might give out. He knew it was bad, so bad, and yet, he folded them and shoved them into his back pocket. He went back to give you another gentle kiss on the forehead and left your room, shutting the door behind him.

When he got out into the hallway, he could already feel himself stiffening in his jeans. He got to his room as quickly as he could, locked the door and instantly kicked his shoes off and undid his belt. He took your panties out of his pocket, tossed them onto his sheets and shucked off his jeans. He crawled into bed and picked the garment back up, pressing his nose to the fabric so he could smell you again. He could already feel himself leaking in his boxers from just smelling you. He imagined what you’d taste like if you let him have you, if you let him trace every inch of you with his tongue until you were begging him for more. The image of your head thrown back in ecstasy while you squished his face between your thighs filled his mind and his eyes fluttered closed. He reached down with his other hand to stroke himself over the fabric of his boxers for a second of relief. He got so hard when he thought of you that it almost became painful at times.

When he thought he’d teased himself enough, he finally dragged his boxers down his thighs so that his hard cock could slap onto his stomach. He swore under his breath at the relief of being free from the confines of his underwear. With your panties in his other hand, he had an ingenious idea.

He wrapped the soft red fabric around the base of his cock while his hand guided it up and down. He was enraptured by the idea that by fucking a pair of your worn panties and brushing his cock along the same fabric that had been soaked with your slick, it was like being able to be with you in some way. He told himself that when he arranged the gusset of the panties to sit right on the head of his cock, his hips twitching up to press himself into the fabric with a groan. It was maybe the closest he’d ever get to the real thing. He imagined the soft fabric he was pressing himself into was your cunt, that you were dragging your wet folds along the length of him. He imagined what it might feel like to run his hands over your soft skin and be able to touch you how he wanted. He began to pump himself again with the panties in his fist, messily fucking into his hand and leaking on to the same fabric he knew you had been in. He panted while he continued his movements, squeezing his eyes shut so he could picture you with your hands on his chest as you rode him. He could see your messy hair framing your gorgeous face and your tits bouncing above him while he jerked his hips up into you eagerly. The repeated movement was intoxicating. He was nearly drooling from how rapidly his mind was racing with thoughts of you - spread out in his bed or sitting in his lap or up against a wall - anything about you spurred him on. It took less than five minutes for him to be spilling all over his hand and stomach with a growl, the fabric of your panties damp with his release.

He groaned in frustration at the mess he made, taking off his shirt to clean himself off and tucking the panties under his pillow. He really did feel guilty - maybe he could get them in the wash without you noticing so he could plant them somewhere back in your room. For now, though, he was definitely keeping them. He ended up falling asleep that night with the fabric balled up in his fist.

The next day - to avoid a repeat of the overwhelming mess you had to clean yesterday - you assigned some of the older kids to help keep an eye on the younger ones. You meant to wake up early to do so but you’d clearly slept in, standing barefoot in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in your hand. You were still in your pajama pants and Logan’s sweatshirt.

He couldn’t help but smile when he came down and saw you wearing it, the gray sleeves hanging off your shoulders.

“I’m never gonna get that back, huh?”

His voice caught your attention and you turned around, smiling wide when you saw him step into the kitchen. He was already dressed in his tank and blue jeans.

“Oh, did you want it back?” you raised your eyebrows, “ ‘cause you're definitely not gettin’ it.”

You shot him a mischievous smile and his heart felt like it would beat out of his chest. He felt a pang of guilt seeing your beautiful face while knowing he did such filthy things to the thought of you.

When you turned back around to look at the group of kids, half of them were whispering behind their hands and giggling while looking between the two of you.

“What?” you laughed a little and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Nothing!” a few of them shouted in unison and you narrowed your eyes.

One of the younger boys, the one who talked to Logan the day before, raised his hand. He had a smug expression on his face when he made eye contact with him. Logan figured he knew what he was up to almost instantly.

“I know what it is!” the boy waved.

“Oh?” you looked at him expectantly.

Some of the other kids around him snickered.

“Professor Logan said he thinks you're pretty.”

You immediately turned to Logan, who was adorably red in the face - you couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or anger, though. You were biting down a smile, your face warm from the compliment.

“Well,” you cleared your throat and spoke under your breath to Logan, “thank you.”

You were grinning uncontrollably now and the kids started to giggle again when they took notice.

“Okay, alright, enough - any ideas of what we wanna do today?” you finally asked.

Much to your surprise, they all shouted the same thing in unison.

“Pool!”

You and Logan exchanged amused looks.

“Alright,” you nodded, “that was weirdly easy.”

“Get ready and meet back here in twenty minutes,” Logan instructed, “not a single one of you leaves without us, understood?”

They nodded and mumbled in agreement before excitedly running in different directions.

“So,” you were the first one to address the elephant left in the room, “you think I’m pretty, huh?”

“I, uh-“ he stuttered, trying to think if it was better to be honest or blame it on a rumor, “yeah, ‘course.”

He replied as if the answer was obvious. His face was sincere and you resented how much your face obviously showed you were giddy.

You laughed a little and the sound was replaced with silence. You chewed the inside of your cheek before speaking, unsure if you should even bring up what you were about to say.

“You know, one of the girls told me something kind of funny yesterday,” you chuckled nervously and kept your gaze on the counter before you spoke again, “I don’t know why, but I guess some of the kids have it in their heads that you and I have a thing for each other or something.”

He froze where he stood. Well, telling the kids he thought you were pretty certainly wasn’t going to quell that theory.

“Uh, I - yeah, really weird, no idea where that came from,” he stuttered, scratching the back of his neck.

“Oh, me neither - me neither. I just - it was funny, is all.”

“Yeah, you know, kids love stories,” he nodded, “I’m, uh - I’m gonna go change.”

“Oh, right, yeah. Go ahead, I’ll meet you back here.”

That interaction bordered on being painful.

You finished the rest of your coffee and went upstairs to your room to change. You picked out a two piece bathing suit and put shorts and a loose shirt over it before heading back down.

You waited patiently for the kids - and Logan - to come down and they were all ready within fifteen minutes.

“Okay,” you fixed your sunglasses atop your head and clapped your hands together, “some ground rules before we go - no pushing, no running, no diving and if one of you drains the pool again, we’re all going back inside. Everybody got it?”

They agreed and you were laying in the sun minutes later, trying your best to keep an eye on everyone at once.

“Are you gonna go in?” you asked Logan, nodding towards the pool of kids playing Marco Polo.

He shrugged, looking down at his swim trunks.

“Maybe, but not until there’s at least less than fifteen of ‘em in there at once.”

You laughed and nodded, standing up from your chair.

“Well, I’m sweatin’ my ass off - I’m going in,” you explained and pulled your shirt over your head.

He sighed and watched you kick off your shorts. The swimsuit you were in was appropriate, of course - you were supervising kids - but just seeing so much of your skin made his mouth water. He thought about undoing the little ties on the side of your hips. He thought about your thighs, too - how soft they looked, how good he knew he could make you feel. He felt like he’d been blessed by luck just from looking at you, like it was a privilege to even stare.

His eyes followed your legs as you made your way to the edge of the pool. You jumped in and emerged from the surface of the water in seconds with your wet hair clinging to your face. He knew his staring was obvious but he just couldn’t help himself. Preoccupied with staring, he never saw the inflatable beach ball coming before it hit him in the side of his face.

“Get in the pool!” one of the boys shouted at him and Logan picked up the inflatable ball, throwing it back into the water.

“Not feelin’ it right now.”

“Chicken!”

A couple of the boys started chanting the nickname and pumping their fists in the air.

“Chicken! Chicken! Chicken!”

He rolled his eyes and stood from his seat. The boys cheered as he took off his shirt.

You heard a couple of the older girls near you gasp and giggle excitedly. You followed their gaze to see Logan taking off his shirt and you laughed at their reaction - as if you didn’t feel the same way internally. One of them groaned and turned to you.

“You’re so lucky.”

“Lucky?”

A couple of the girls around you nodded.

“Yes!” she spoke again, “he stares at you, like, all the time.”

You rolled your eyes, “again with this? Guys, I don’t know what you think is happening but Logan’s my coworker - we’re friends.”

“Mhm,” one of them hummed suspiciously with a smirk, “sure, you are.”

“He was literally just staring at you,” another pointed out, nodding towards him.

He was already in the pool when you turned back to look at him, his wet hair dripping in front of his face. He was laughing with one of the younger kids sitting on his shoulders.

“I think you girls see what you want to,” you insisted and shook your head, “hey, if he ever tells me he likes me like that, I’ll let you skip your end of year test.”

The girls chattered excitedly amongst each other at your promise and eventually forgot about the subject.

You finally got out of the pool for good after about an hour or two, wrapping yourself in a towel and sitting back in your chair. Logan followed suit shortly after. You tried your best to keep your eyes off his body but god was it hard when he was dripping wet and looked so damn good. The trail of hair that started under his navel and went all the way down into the front of his shorts made you want to bang your head against a wall. Not to mention that when you looked at the front of his wet shorts, you could see the outline of his-

“Damn.”

You brought your attention back to his face when he spoke and followed his gaze to the ground. The shirt he had been wearing was completely soaked - collateral damage from a water gun battle.

“I can run in and get you another shirt,” you shrugged and stood from your chair, slipping your shorts over your legs.

“I can go -“

“Logan, it’s okay,” you insisted, “I have to grab a couple more towels anyway, just keep an eye on the kids while I’m gone.”

He put his hands up in defeat and slumped back into his chair, “they’re in the second drawer in my dresser.”

You simply nodded and slipped on your sandals, walking away.

When you finally got back inside, you trudged up the stairs and down the hall to Logan’s room. You smiled to yourself when you cracked the door open. The whole room smelled just like his cologne. You found his dresser and immediately took notice of the little trinkets on top. One you recognized was a tiny plastic toy you’d taken out of your McDonalds happy meal months and months ago. You remembered giggling and handing it over to him, saying it was his early Christmas gift.

Another was a strip of photos you had taken in a booth on a field trip with the kids to the zoo. You picked it up and flipped it around, only to read your name and the date scribbled in Logan’s handwriting. Underneath was ‘It’ll always be you.’, written in black ink. You furrowed your eyebrows and flipped the photo strip back around. The first couple photos you remembered well - Logan’s arm around your shoulder in one, your tongues sticking out in another, but the last photo stuck out to you more than you remembered.

You were beaming at the camera, your shoulders tensed up while you leaned on him. Logan, though, wasn’t looking towards the camera. His eyes were on you, a small smile stuck on his face. Something about it made your chest hurt.

You sighed and put the photo strip down, remembering what you were here for. You opened the drawer he told you his shirts would be in and grabbed one before promptly pushing it shut. As you turned to leave, though, something in his bed caught your eye. You stopped in your tracks. There was a piece of red, lacy fabric sticking out from under his pillow. You really shouldn’t look through anything of his, you knew that, but you still couldn’t help yourself. The pattern of lace looked oddly familiar. You timidly lifted the pillow and your heart stopped. It was a pair of panties.

The lace looked familiar because they were your panties.

You picked them up and held them in disbelief. You remembered them being on top of your laundry when you saw them last. When you woke up this morning, though, you didn’t remember seeing them at all. Meaning, when he carried you up to your room last night, he must have pocketed them.

You felt the fabric between your fingers and recognized what had dried into it.

“No way,” you gasped, a shocked but amused smile on your face, “no fucking way. No way.”

You were giggling uncontrollably and staring at the garment in your hands.

“No way,” you repeated, whispering to yourself under your breath, “he jacked off in my fucking underwear.”

You probably should’ve been disgusted or creeped out or both, you knew that, but finding out a guy you had feelings for had been jacking off - assumably to you - with your panties felt like a win. Now that you’d put two and two together - the writing on the back of the photo and your panties hidden under his pillow - you figured you’d have to make some sort of plan to approach him about it. You stuffed them into your pocket and returned to the pool with more towels and Logan’s t-shirt. It was nearly impossible to pretend for the rest of the day that you’d never found what you did.

Once everyone had finished dinner that night and dispersed to get themselves ready for bed, you were left alone in the hallway with him.

“Today was fun,” you admitted, “even if my hair stinks like chlorine.”

“It doesn’t smell too bad,” he insisted and pressed his nose to the top of your head without a second thought, “just like summer.”

You found yourself feeling warm when he was so close to you. You cleared your throat nervously and found yourself staring up at him in silence when he pulled away.

“I’m, uh…I’m gonna go take a shower,” he mumbled with his eyes still locked on yours, “but I had a lot of fun today, too. I liked hangin’ out with you so much this weekend.”

“Me too,” you replied instantly, “we’ll have to spend more time together soon.”

There was a flirtatious tone to your voice that made him sweat, but he figured he was looking too much into it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked.

“See you tomorrow, bub,” you giggled a little, turning on your heel and walking to your room.

He sighed and watched you walk away. When he finally went off to his room, he decided his shower was definitely going to be a cold one.

You were pacing in your room as he got to his, your arms crossed as you tried to think of what the hell to do. You had to do something to make some kind of move. You were stuck until your last conversation with him replayed in your mind.

I’m gonna go take a shower.

You stopped pacing and got into your own shower as fast as you could. You threw on a pair of sweatpants and the sweatshirt you had borrowed from Logan the night before - except you wore nothing underneath.

You were knocking on his door minutes later, nervously rocking back and forth on your heels.

When he answered the door, he had only a towel around his waist.

“Uh,” your eyes immediately fell to his torso, “hi.”

“Hey,” he laughed a little when he noticed you weren’t looking him in the eye, “you need somethin’?”

You swallowed hard.

“Just wanna talk to you for a sec,” you answered.

He stepped aside to let you in and closed his bedroom door behind you.

“One minute,” he told you, stepping back into his bathroom and closing the door to get dressed. When he disappeared out of view, you reached behind you to click the lock on his doorknob.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t help smiling at the nickname, your stomach erupting in butterflies as he reemerged in sweatpants and no shirt.

“Uh, yeah, everythings great - I just had a question.”

You reminded yourself you had to be confident when you approached him. He sat on the edge of his bed and you tentatively stepped forward to stand in front of his open legs. He raised his eyebrows expectantly. You could tell that he seemed a little nervous.

“Logan,” you bit down a smile, “if I asked you something, you’d be honest with me - wouldn’t you?”

He shot you a confused look but nodded anyway.

“Yeah, of course I would.”

“Mhm,” you hummed and reached into the pocket of your sweatshirt, “so, why did I find these under your pillow?”

You dangled the piece of red lacy fabric in front of his face and he went pale and wide eyed.

“Shit.”

You were smiling like you’d won the lottery.

“I- I can explain, uh, about that -“ he was stuttering but you cut him short.

“Can you? Because what it looks like is that you took my panties out of my laundry.”

He was surprised you didn’t sound mad or disgusted. You were smiling, like this was entertaining.

“Uh…” his words caught in his throat and he coughed, “I, um, I wasn’t…I wasn’t-“

“Baby,” you said softly, leaning down and putting a hand on his knee, “it’s okay.”

You could feel his muscles tense under your touch and his eyes darted from yours to your hand and then back up again. He felt lightheaded.

“If you wanted these so bad, you could’ve said something, you know,” you muttered, still dangling the fabric in front of him.

“Yeah, right,” he said sarcastically and scoffed in an attempt to play cool, “ ‘cause you would’ve just given ‘em to me.”

“Well,” you stood straight again and held the panties in front of you so you could feign that you were inspecting them, “I would’ve let you do a lot more than jack off into my underwear.”

He looked absolutely mortified in a way you’d never seen before at the realization that you figured out exactly what he did with them.

“Aw, don’t be shy, sweetheart, it’s okay,” you cooed and got down on your knees in front of him, resting your elbows on his lap, “you just wanted me so bad that you thought fucking my panties was all you’d ever get, huh? Am I right?”

Your near mocking tone already had him growing hard underneath his sweatpants. He was almost sure he was having a wet dream.

Still, he found himself slowly nodding in agreement.

“Wanted you so bad,” he finally admitted. His breathing was shaky.

“Do you still want me?” you asked, but he was nodding again before you even finished the question. Your chest swelled with pride and you were more than confident now in your approach. You gently held his face in your hands and you could see he was quickly turning red.

“Logan.”

“Hm?”

He was far too enraptured by you to actually say anything.

“Kiss me.”

His lips parted in surprise, thinking he must’ve misheard you. You dominantly held his chin when he didn’t move.

“I said kiss me,” you repeated in a firm voice and he groaned and gave in to temptation, hungrily mashing his lips against yours. It was loving and needy at the same time. He was eager to get his tongue in your mouth but his lips were soft and he was so gentle with you. He cradled your face in his hands just as you had done. It was a good while before either of you pulled away, too lost in the feeling of each other.

“What’d you think about when you did it?” you asked when you disconnected your lips. You cradled the back of his neck with your hands and he was practically melting from your touch.

“Hm?” Logan was so overwhelmed in the best way possible that he hadn’t even heard you speak - he was still reeling just from realizing you weren’t going to scold him for what he’d done and actually seemed to like it so much that you kissed him.

“What did you think about when you touched yourself for me?”

He couldn’t help the groan that escaped his lips from hearing you talk to him like that.

You giggled a little, amused by how little it took to have him half hard already.

“Thought about - thought about bein’ able to fuck you,” he inhaled deeply, “thought about you on top of me and how beautiful you are.”

His complete honesty and the genuine compliment made your heart flutter.

“Oh, so you’d want me on top?” you inquired and slowly inched a hand from his knee towards the top of his thigh.

“Uh,” he closed his eyes and took another deep breath, as if he was imagining it at that very moment, “god, yeah.”

You were smiling so wide that your cheeks hurt. You had a wicked idea that had you wet just thinking it.

“Show me what you did with them.”

You dropped the panties directly onto the growing bulge under his sweatpants. He parted his lips in surprise and you sat back on your heels, waiting patiently.

“You - you wanna watch while…fuck,” he was panting and you hadn’t even touched him yet.

You nodded and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. He felt like he was on fire.

“C’mon, pretty boy,” you mercifully placed a hand over the front of his sweatpants and his hips instinctively ground towards your touch, “for me?”

He nodded frantically, eagerly hooking his thumbs under the waistband of his pants and boxers as he lifted his hips so he could pull them down his thighs. When his cock sprung free from the confines of his clothing, your mouth started to water - he was huge. You had to remind yourself not to just give in - that you wanted to make him work for it.

“Here,” you dangled the pair of parties that had fallen to the floor in front of him.

He excitedly wrapped the fabric around his cock, closing his fist over it to pump himself. You watched in awe as he whined and whimpered from barely touching himself, his eyes never leaving yours. He was stroking himself at a slow pace, beads of precum forming at the tip and dribbling over his hand. As dirty as his actions were, you thought he looked like he could be the subject of a painting in a museum - head thrown back in bliss, his features painted by the golden yellow light of the lamp on his nightstand and his chest heaving as he panted.

“So good for me,” you said in a low volume and he groaned, “does it feel good, baby?”

He twitched in his fist and you could tell that your praise had him making a mess in his hand.

“Feels really fucking good,” he moaned and you had to resist the urge to nudge his hand away and replace it with yours. You wanted to taste him, even if it was just one swipe of your tongue over the head of his cock. You imagined that he tasted like his kiss.

“I thought about you too, you know,” you cocked your head and wet your lips.

“You did?”

He seemed genuinely surprised, the motion of his hand only faltering a little.

“Of course,” you smirked, “Do you wanna know what I thought about?”

“Please,” he pleaded instantly, “I wanna know.”

“I thought about your pretty face, how good I think you’d fuck me.”

He groaned and leaned back on the elbow of his other arm.

“I think about you all the time,” you admitted with your eyes flickering between his face and his hand, “I think about riding you with your hands on my ass. I think about how much I’d love the scratchiness of your beard on my thighs if you ate me out.”

He was panting and whining every time you made a confession. You could see how desperate he was becoming and it turned you on beyond belief. With his eyes still on you, you began to unzip the front of your - his - sweatshirt at an agonizingly slow pace. The further you pulled the zipper down, the more he realized there was nothing underneath.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he loudly groaned before you even opened the front of the garment.

“I love how easy it is to rile you up,” you said truthfully.

“ ‘s not gonna be hard. I’ve been obsessed with you for a while.”

That was the first time he’d said it out loud - that he even liked you, yes, but it was the first time he’d used the word obsessed to describe what it was he felt for you.

“Obsessed with me, huh?” you asked softly as you began to shrug off the sweatshirt, “I can tell.”

You thought he was nearly going to finish just from seeing your bare chest. His hips jerked towards his hand and he squeezed his eyes shut while his jaw hung open. He moaned your name and you felt like you’d heard an angel sing.

“So - you’re so perfect,” he stuttered, opening his eyes and raking them up and down your body.

“You think so?”

You really just loved to hear him talk in between grunting and moaning your name.

“ ‘Course,” He nodded frantically, “I stare at you all the time, can’t take my eyes off you.”

That, you knew, but again - you still loved to hear him say it aloud.

“Love your voice, your hair,” he continued and nodded towards the sweatshirt that was now loosely hanging from your arms, “I gave you my sweatshirt so it’d smell like you when ya’ gave it back.”

“Really?” you slowly stood and he sat up straight, “I borrow them because they smell like you.”

It was the honest truth and you noticed his thigh start to shake the second the words slipped out of your mouth. Standing in front of him as he sat on the bed made him eye level with your chest and he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You held his face in your hands and he looked up into your eyes like he saw the world in them.

“Do you wanna touch ‘em, sweetheart?” you asked in a soft voice and he nodded, “go ahead.”

The second you said the word ‘go’, he already had his free hand on the small of your back, holding you closer while he latched his mouth onto one of your nipples.

You let out a small whimper and he growled into your flesh, his tongue swirling and sucking.

“Logan,” you sighed his name and threaded your fingers through his hair.

“F-mm, fuck, can’t - can’t go sayin’ my name like that,” he swallowed hard and buried his face in your chest.

“You like it when I say your name, Logan?”

He groaned loudly, leaving wet open mouthed kisses. You could see the drool gathering in the counter of his mouth. He was moaning and whimpering into the soft flesh, feeling himself get closer and closer to the edge.

“ ‘m gonna come too fast if you fuckin’ do that again,” he tried to warn you but you swiped some hair out of his face.

Maybe it wasn’t a good time to say it, but the three words that had been unspoken for so long threatened to escape your mouth when you had him like this. You tilted his head so he had to look you in the eyes.

“I love you, Logan.”

He growled animalistically, almost instantly cumming in his fist and making a mess of his lap and stomach while he rambled on.

“Love you - I love you so fuckin’ much,” he admitted, burying his face in your chest. He may have been embarrassed about coming so fast, but you were more than pleased that you made him finish so soon.

“Hey, maybe next time, you show me?” you asked and he raised his eyebrows.

“Next time? Oh, no,” his eyes were wide, like a kid in a candy store, “get on the bed.”

You almost told him to remember who was in charge, who made the demands, but you were far too excited to just be with him. You shrugged off his sweatshirt and laid on his bed. He crawled over to you after he cleaned himself up and pulled you in to kiss again. The warmth of your chest on his was intoxicating for him. His hands eagerly explored all the expanses of soft skin he had dreamed of touching, eventually stopping to rest one at the front of your sweatpants. Without hesitation, his fingers breached the elastic and he slid his hand down, only to realize you weren’t wearing anything underneath the sweatpants either.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?” he warned.

You playfully grinned, all the way up until you felt him drag two fingers right through your folds, sliding them up and down at a slow and steady pace.

“Logan,” you sighed, “fuck.”

He dragged the waistband of your sweatpants down and you kicked them off, leaving you as bare as he was. He sat back on his heels so he could take a good look at you. It was a tender moment in between passionate frenzies of hands and mouths.

“You’re everythin’ I ever dreamed of, you know,” he sighed and you could’ve cried from how sweet he was.

“Really?”

You were still enamored with each other, basking in the warmth of newly exposed skin. The air in the room was much different than it had been before, though. What felt like built up tension dissipated and was replaced by the excitement of getting to finally be with each other.

“Yes, really,” Logan replied in disbelief, as if even asking that was crazy, “you’re fucking beautiful.”

Even while he was sitting back on his heels, his thighs spread and his semi hard cock on full display, he still made you bashful with every compliment.

“You’re fucking hot, c’mere,” you eagerly reached up to press your lips to his and bring him down on top of you with your arms around his neck.

He moaned into your mouth and let you pull him down, reveling in the sensation of your hands moving to tug at his hair.

“I wanna make you feel good,” he mumbled against your lips in between kisses while his hands kneaded the widest part of your thighs.

“You do,” you replied instantly, but he shook his head and pulled away a little.

“Uh-uh, I mean like this.”

Two of his fingers slipped between your folds again and found your clit instantly. He started lightly tracing circles around the bundle of nerves. Your back arched and you gasped, spreading your legs wider in an impossible attempt to somehow get more of him.

“Is that good?” he asked, eyes flickering from your face to your pussy and back again.

“It - ah - ‘s really good, you’re doing such a good job, baby,” you replied, whimpering when he started to trace his fingers even further down so that they could slip into you.

“You’re so fucking wet, Jesus,” he groaned, looking like he was going to faint just from the sight of his fingers becoming soaked when he thrusted them in and back out again. He moved himself a little further down the mattress to settle his face in between your thighs while he laid on his stomach. He wanted to watch you clench around his fingers up close and get a taste of what he’d been fantasizing about for so long.

“Logan,” you moaned softly when he curled his fingers, “think you - you’d feel so fucking good in me.”

He could feel himself already growing hard again against the mattress just from the words spilling from your lips. He was leaving hungry, open mouthed kisses from the inside of your thighs right up until his breath was fanning your aching cunt.

“Such a good boy,” you managed to pant while his fingers still worked at a relentless pace. His eyes were glued to where you were taking him, mesmerized by how wet you were and the noises you were making.

You arched your back and whimpered when he pulled his fingers from you so he could spread your slick all the way up to your clit and circle around it.

“I know you wanna taste it, baby,” you noticed his intense stare, “go ahead.”

He retracted his fingers so he could spread you open with his thumbs, lay his tongue flat and lick you.

“Fucking Christ,” you swore when you felt the warm, wet heat of his tongue.

He moaned into you, grinding his hips down on the mattress for any sort of relief.

“Taste even better than I imagined,” he took a deep breath, “I think about this all the time.”

You couldn’t help the smug grin on your face, broken every now and then when a moan escaped your mouth.

“You get off thinking about eating my pussy?”

He hummed with his tongue still swiping up your cunt.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” you sighed, “what else do you think about, babe?”

Even just hearing the nickname from you was still enough to make his cock twitch.

“Like lookin’ at your legs,” he spoke in between licking and sucking, “thinkin’ about how soft your thighs would be around my head.”

You were turned on beyond belief when he confessed those things to you. Something about his devotion, how he’d do seemingly anything for you, ignited some kind of fire in the pit of your stomach. He even noticed how you immediately started to get even wetter.

“You like when I tell you stuff like that?”

Your eyes were closed and your hips rolled forward to push yourself even further onto his fingers, even if he was already knuckle deep. You nodded in response, too distracted by the pleasure of having Logan’s tongue and fingers at the same time.

“I love watchin’ your hips when you walk” he muttered against you, “thinkin’ about getting to hold ‘em while you ride me.”

There was no way you could be turned on any more than you were. You were moaning and whimpering into a pillow when you started to get so loud that you feared someone would hear you. Logan looked up and smiled to himself, satisfied that he could touch you so right that you had to muffle the sound of your moans.

“I look at your tits a lot when you talk to me,” he started again, knowing how much you seemed to like it, “can’t help it, always thinkin’ about gettin’ to touch ‘em and put ‘em in my mouth.”

“I - fuck - I wear low cut stuff on purpose so you’ll stare,” you gasped, “wanted you to think about me.”

“God, I do, all the time,” he groaned before making obscene wet noises while he buried his face in your pussy.

“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you confessed, “need to feel you inside me.”

He growled into you and muttered his response.

“I wanna make you cum on my face, first. I’ve been dreaming about it forever. After, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Mhm.”

Your head was swimming with all the ideas of what you could do to him. It pushed you even further towards your orgasm.

Logan was curling his fingers to repeatedly hit the same spot inside you and your legs started to shake. He could feel you tighten around his fingers, pulsing around him.

“Fuck, are you close? Please, c’mon, cum for me,” he pleaded in a desperate voice, still mumbling against your throbbing pussy.

Hearing his voice beg for your release was enough for it to come, crashing over you in waves while you tugged on his hair to angle his mouth.

“Love you, I love how you touch me,” you confessed while catching your breath, “I’ve never been with anyone who’s been able to make me cum like that.”

Unfortunately, it was the truth. You’d been eaten out before, of course, but no one you had been with had actually thought about your needs in that way and if they did, they lick everywhere but where you wanted them. Logan was a different story. He’d eat you like you were the last thing he’d ever taste in his life. He buried his face in your pussy till you squirmed, as if he was starving. He worshiped the spot between your thighs - it was a privilege to even see you, never mind taste you. Tasting you on his tongue was something he’d been craving for so long.

“I love you,” he replied when he finally detached his mouth from your cunt, his chin and cheeks covered in you, “no one’s ever done that for you before?”

“Not till I came, no,” you answered kind of sheepishly.

He crawled up so he was above you again and kissed you, swirling his tongue in your mouth so you could taste yourself.

“Get used to it,” he smiled and held himself up on his forearms, “I wanna do that every night.”

Your pussy was already throbbing again when he presented the idea. You were immediately lost in thought, imagining him between your thighs all over again, maybe while you’re sitting on your desk or riding his pretty face. You were brought back to reality when you felt the weight of Logan’s hard, leaking cock on your thigh. You looked down and raised your eyebrows.

“How are you hard again? Not that I mind.”

He laughed a little.

“Uh, you know the regenerative thing? It applies to all of me.”

“Wow,” you whispered unintentionally, “holy shit, am I lucky.”

“Nah,” he replied immediately, tenderly holding your face in one hand, “I’m the lucky one. I got the girl of my dreams in my bed.”

The more he sweet talked, the more you wanted to absolutely fuck him till you broke the bed frame.

“Logan?”

“Mhm.”

“Remember when you said you’d let me do whatever I want to you?”

He took a deep breath and nodded his head, almost shaking from the anticipation of being your toy.

“Lay on your back,” you commanded and he did so immediately.

You caught the way his hard cock twitched when you swung your legs over his and straddled his hips, your cunt right behind where he needed you. You rolled your hips the slightest bit, moving yourself forward to graze his balls first. His hips jerked when you did and his hands instantly came to your hips and waist, kneading the flesh and gripping you so hard he might leave fingerprint bruises, ones you’d love to have because they were his. His hands slithered all around your body - your thighs, hips, waist, tits, neck, face, arms - in an attempt to memorize every bit of you. His favorite part of your body, if he was really forced to choose, would probably be your hips, tummy, and thighs. He loved how soft you were to the touch, how he could use your thighs or hips as something to grab onto. Still, this felt unreal to both of you. You never would’ve thought Logan would ever see you as more than a friend, so finding your panties in his room was like a fantasy come to life.

You inched yourself up a little further to finally settle yourself at the base of Logan’s cock, granting him the littlest bit of relief.

“You’re gonna feel so good inside of me,” you told him. He was so big that you were sure he probably wouldn’t have to put in much effort to have you cumming around him again. You almost drooled thinking of how it would feel to sink down on him for the first time, how amazing it would feel for him to stretch you out and fill you completely.

He looked like he was in a daze, his eyes glued to you.

“I wanna make you cum again,” he confessed, “I don’t even care if I don’t, I fuckin’ love getting you off.”

That sentence alone could have had you leaking onto him before he even got himself in you.

“You’ll cum,” you promised, “I’ll be sure of it.”

He inhaled sharply and watched you grind your hips up to finally slide yourself up the length of his cock. He whined, a sound that was music to your ears, and used his grip on your hips to eagerly push and pull you back and forth.

“Careful, Kitty,” you cooed, “you’re gonna finish before we even start if you keep doing that.

He groaned, loud, so loud it almost startled you.

“Oh,” you held a smug grin, “you like when I call you that, don’t you?”

He ground his hips up into you and you gasped when he slid you over the tip of his cock and back again.

“Yeah, yeah,” he panted, “please, fuck me, please.”

You leaned down with your hands holding you up on either side of his head.

“Do you think you’ve been good enough to deserve it?”

He nodded frantically. You almost thought you saw tears forming in the corner of his eyes.

“I’ll - I’ll do fucking anything, need you so bad,” he begged and you couldn’t resist him when he looked so gorgeous underneath you - a tall, brooding, muscular guy like him absolutely pussy drunk the second he saw you naked.

You reached down to line him up with your entrance, keeping your eyes locked on his. His hands slid up and down your thighs and hips as you started to sink down onto him. Barely even in you, you could see Logan was practically trembling.

He slid his hands to the back of your neck so he could pull you down for a kiss, slow and passionate in a way that made your heart feel like it would burst. With his lips still on yours, you lowered your hips. He gasped into your mouth and his head rolled back before you’d even taken half of him.

“You’re so perfect,” you told him truthfully, whimpering when he bucked his hips up to push himself further into you.

“Look who’s talkin’,” he flashed a slight grin, his eyes trailing down your body.

You followed his gaze and realized he was staring at where he was almost completely filling you. You forcefully sunk yourself down to take the last few inches of him and his breathing became heavy.

“Feels good?” you asked and used a hand to hold his chin so he was forced to look at you.

“More than that,” he panted, squeezing his eyes shut, “fucking amazing.”

“Open, look at me.”

He obeyed, hazel eyes glued to your features.

“Be a good boy for me, hm? Don’t cum until I say you can,” you instructed and started to slowly work your hips up and down.

He groaned loudly, whimpering and squeezing his eyes shut again.

“What’d I say?,” you grabbed his face again, “I said look at me, didn’t I?”

“F- mhm, you-you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he heaved, opening his eyes and gnawing in his bottom lip to try and keep them open. He wanted to stare, study and memorize every movement you made on top of him, but he knew watching you would only make it harder for him to keep himself from cumming.

You started working up a steady pace while he kept his grip on your thighs. Logan was pushing his hips up every time yours came down, grunting and moaning.

“You feel so fucking good,” you told him truthfully, rolling your hips when he was fully inside you so that his patch of curly, short dark hair created friction against your swollen clit, “fill me up so well, baby.”

He could only let out a guttural moan, an intoxicating sound that matched the rhythm of his headboard hitting the wall. His mouth was hung open as he watched himself disappear inside of you over and over again.

“Aw, pretty kitty,” you delicately moved his hands above his head so you could interlace your fingers and hold his hands down, “you already look fucked out of your mind.”

His face and chest were flushed, sweat starting to dampen his hair. He watched your every move with a loving gaze. You both knew he could resist your attempt to hold him down easily - he just didn’t want to. It was the perfect angle, one where he could see your gorgeous face with your jaw hung open and your eyes on him.

“ ‘m yours, you know. Always - always have been,” he muttered between gasps as you sped up your pace.

“I’m yours too, Logan - you know that, right?” your smile was sweet, even while you were on top of him like that.

He couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore - the combination of your filthy words and beautiful body was going to send him over the edge if he didn’t try to concentrate on keeping himself from spilling into you.

“Ah, m-mhm,” he whined as a response.

You suddenly lifted your hips and let him slip out of you.

“Words, baby,” you reminded him, “you have to a good boy for me if you want me to keep fucking you.”

His eyebrows were knitted together and his mouth opened as if he was almost in pain from not being inside you anymore.

“ ‘m good, i’m good, please - need to,” he was breathing hard and kneading your thighs.

“Need to what, baby?”

You knew exactly what you were doing and so did he. You wanted to hear him say it, hear him beg.

“Need to be in you,” he sighed, trying to catch his breath.

“I think I should make you work for it,” you told him, instantly having an idea of how he’d do it.

“Anything, I’ll do anything.”

“I know, sweetheart,” you were as smug as you could be “switch with me.”

You climbed off him and laid on your back, but not before you had a look at what a mess you’d made. The trimmed hair around his cock was clearly soaked, so much so that you could see the shine of what you left behind on his lower stomach - on that nice trail of hair that runs down into the front of his pants all the time.

“Fuck,” Logan swore under his breath when he saw what you had.

“Don’t get too worked up, kitty,” you held a mischievous smile and he tentatively crawled on top of you, his waist between your legs as he held himself up on his forearms.

He grunted, “you’re still gonna call me that when I’m slammin’ into you?”

That sentence alone evoked a tingling feeling in the bottom of your stomach.

“Maybe once or twice,” you caught your bottom lip between his teeth, “but if you’re fucking me and I can still speak, you’ve gotta go harder.”

“Ugh,” he couldn’t help groaning - not out of disgust or annoyance, more so an expression of frustration for how badly he wanted to do that to you. He wanted to fuck you till you were speechless, maybe do so well for you that you’d leave a nice white ring around the base of his cock.

You reached down between your bodies to align him again and he slipped in immediately. Even with how wet you were, it was still a stretch. You locked your ankles at the small of his back, maybe out of instinct or to push him further into you - you weren’t sure. He tried to delicately fill you again, fearful that too much too soon could hurt you, but you pushed some of his sweat soaked hair off of his forehead and lovingly held his face in your hands.

“Go ahead, Logan, it’s okay,” you told him, knowing how much he loved to hear you say his name, “you’re not gonna hurt me.”

When he was fully inside of you, his hips flush with the inside of your thighs, he practically had you pinned to the mattress with his lower body. He buried his head in your neck while he slowly started to rock his hips. He was leaving wet kisses below your ear, biting and sucking your soft skin. You couldn’t help gasping and squirming, something that had encouraged Logan to pick up his pace.

“I-I don’t heal like you do,” you warned, “ those are gonna leave a mark.”

“Good,” he muttered against your neck.

You had your hands tangled in his disheveled hair and used your grip to tug his head up, hard enough to make him moan but not enough to really hurt him.

You were practically nose to nose while your hot breaths fanned each other’s faces.

“You wanna mark me up ‘cause I’m yours, huh?”

He hated how well you could read him. It may have been a blessing in disguise, though.

He growled and his nostrils flared, something you discovered you found incredibly hot. His eyebrows were furrowed and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked pissed. Except the noises he made for you proved just about the opposite.

“Mhm,” he heaved, “mine, all mine.”

That definitely built up the pressure in your stomach. You liked being the dominant one, but it was undeniably sexy when he took control.

“ ‘m yours,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck so you could kiss him. First, you actually kissed his cheek - you were so sweet sometimes that he felt like he would melt into you - then you pressed your lips to his. It was another hungry kiss, the kind that had your lips covered in each other's spit and left a string of saliva connecting your mouths when he pulled himself up. It was as if you were starving to eat each other.

“I love you,” he sighed, his hand grazing your cheek affectionately, “wanna be like this forever.”

“I - I love you too,” you choked out between whines and gasps for air as he knocked it out of you, “you feel even better that I thought you would.”

“Really?” he asked, kissing along your jaw, “you thought about that before?”

“So many times,” you admitted, “I figured you were big but Jesus.”

He groaned into your skin and held himself up again so he could look at your pretty face. You stared back, eyes traveling down his face and to the silver dog tags that hung around his neck. They swung back and forth with every snap of his hips. You wondered if he’d let you wear them some time so you could have his name around your neck and maybe have it dangle in his face the next time you were on top.

Logan kept his steady pace but it quickened when he could feel you using your legs around him to try and push him further into you. You knew the inside of your thighs would certainly be bruised from his hips slamming against you and it pushed you even closer to coming undone. He wrapped an arm under you as you were gasping his name and clawing at his back. He growled and cursed under his breath from hearing your pretty voice say his name over and over again. He had to make you cum first and soon because he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

He sat back on his knees and took you with him, using a firm grip to drag you down the mattress a bit and keep your legs on either side of him, all without slipping out of you. He kept the bottom half of your body laid on his lap, fucking you from a new angle that had your legs shaking. He hit that perfect spot inside of you over and over again when he thrusted his hips, feeling proud when he saw just how much you were enjoying it.You were gripping the sheets so hard that your fingernails were digging into your palms.

“Fuck, you like that? ‘s good?” He slurred, his sweat making his irresistible body shine like he was a Greek fucking god.

You were speechless from how hard he was fucking you, pulling back and ramming his cock into you so hard that the headboard was slamming against the wall.

“I-mhm,” you really did try to say something, anything, but all that came out was a high pitched moan.

“Guess ‘m doing it right then, if ya’ can’t talk” he muttered with a short laugh, referring to what you’d told him earlier.

“M-mhm,” you hummed, eyes squeezed shut.

He started to trace slow circles around your clit, staring in awe at your swollen pussy. He leaned back a little and spat on it so he could spread his saliva all over your cunt.

“Oh, my god, L-Logan,” you gasped, feeling the pressure in your stomach build higher and higher.

“Need ya’ to cum on me,” he panted, his mouth hanging open as he watched your tits bounce with every thrust, “gotta feel it.”

“ ‘m gonna -“

“C’mon, baby, c’mon, please,” he begged, desperate to see you pulse around him.

His pleading words pushed you over the edge and you grabbed his arms, digging crescent shapes into his skin that disappeared in seconds. Your back arched and your eyes started to water as he worked you through your orgasm, his fingers staying exactly where they were.

“ ‘s too much, too - ah,” you whined and gasped while you weakly tried to push his hand away, but he only shook his head.

“Uh-uh, baby,” he told you, “jus’ one more - just wanna get one more outta you.”

You could feel a warm tear fall down the side of your face from the overstimulation. You were cumming again after a few swipes of his fingers.

His thrusts became sloppier with every whimper of yours that echoed in the room and he came with a loud groan when he felt you spasm around him, leaning down to bury his face in your neck as he spilled into you.

“Love you so much,” he sighed into your skin, breathing heavily.

“I love you too,” you exhaled, pressing an innocent kiss to his cheek.

He sat up and slowly pulled himself out, watching a mix of his cum and yours drip out of you and onto the sheets.

“C’mere,” he panted, laying on his stomach and dragging your thighs to lock around his head.

“Logan, what are you d-”

Before you could ask what exactly he was doing, he shoved his tongue as far as he could inside of you, dragging it up and around your pussy, even the inside of your thighs.

“Fuck - ah,” you gasped and grabbed his hair, tugging every time he grazed your clit.

When he finally pulled himself off you, he wiped his cheeks and chin with the palm of his hand so he could lick it clean.

“Jesus christ,” you let out a short laugh.

“Just wanted to clean you up,” he explained, crawling back onto the bed to wrap his arms around you.

You were both starting to nod off, much too exhausted to get dressed or clean the mess you’d made of his sheets. He kissed your shoulder, the back of your neck and the side of your face, pulling you as close as possible. Before you let exhaustion overtake you completely, you felt Logan mumble into your hair.

“I Iove you, sweetheart.”

You smiled wide, laying your arm over his.

“I love you, too.”

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A/N: Thank you sm for reading!! pls like and reblog if u enjoyed :3 also, as always, I am still working on inbox requests <3

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