birdy

she/her, 18+ I love DILFS, sue me

[birdyshewrote]

hey send me Wolverine fic ideas. I’m not over him.

[birdyshewrote]

You write wolverine perfectlyy! I love how you Include his animal side ✨

Can you write reader catching him with a pair of their panties/briefs? 👀

oh yes I can.

Guilty Pleasure

Female!Reader x Logan Howlett

written by birdy

Summary: After moving in with Wade Wilson in his apartment, Logan met you. You quickly seemed like a better roommate option, and you offered an empty couch to the animalistic man. He accepted, but tension has been growing ever since..

Tags/Warnings: +18 Female!Reader x Wolverine, Logan eats you out. Swearing, mentions of smoking/alcohol, Logan is gross and perverted.

——————————————————————————

It was an addiction. He swore he wouldn’t do it again. This would be the last time. But this time became next time. And next time became the time after that. Logan couldn’t stop, even if he wanted to.

It started unintentionally. You had asked him one morning to throw your laundry in the wash, you were running late for wherever you had to be. Your shared, run down apartment building had a busy laundry room downstairs, and Logan knew going down meant the chance of having a run in with his ex-roommate, Wade Wilson. However, you had been letting him crash in your room, instead of Wades, so he kind of owed you for whatever chores or simple favors you asked of him.

“Mm.” He reluctantly nodded from the couch. And then you were gone. And he was left alone.

He went into your room, an area of the apartment he found himself curious of but avoided. Your relationship was.. unspoken. You were friends, of course, but there had been tension brewing for some time now. Logan wasn’t a relationship person. Not anymore. And he had a good thing going here, there was no reason to mess it up.

Having said that, he couldn’t stop himself from noticing your bunched-up pair of panties thrown on-top of the pile of clothing sitting in the hamper. He avoided eye contact with them. He wasn’t a perv, like Wade. He was a man that had standards and could control himself. So he thought.

He wasn’t exactly holding his breath though. In fact, he was sniffing and breathing quicker than usual on the way down to the washers. They were worn, he could smell them just from picking up the hamper. He made his way downstairs, threw the laundry in, and that was the end of it.

The next week, he offered to take your laundry down again. It was a nice thing to do, and you had been so gracious in sharing your place with him he wanted to make his appreciation known.

“Laundry need cleaning?” He watched you from the kitchen table as you attempted to carry the bin out from your room.

“What’s it look like, Furbrain?” You responded sarcastically, setting the bin down with a light thump.

He stood, setting down a beer.

“I’ll take it down for ya.”

For three weeks, he had been taking your laundry down for you. But the six minute walk once a week with the scent wasn’t enough. He craved the smell, and he was never satisfied.

When you were out of the house, he’d be sneaking into your room, going through your panty drawer, trying to find the same scent as a worn pair. He felt gross. He felt like an addict, looking for a quick fix. He tried to stop, but it never lasted. The next afternoon he’d be back in your room, hoping to get lucky.

One day, there were some clothes left out on the floor of your bedroom instead of in the hamper. You wouldn’t notice if the panties were missing, would you?

He took the risk. He finally had an endless supply of his drug. Since he was crashing on your couch, he kept this pair hidden in a cigar box under the couch. He brought it out almost any time he was alone. Since the first time he smelt your slick, he was hooked.

It was late, you were out with some friends and he couldn’t stop thinking about you. The warm summer night had you leave the apartment in a tank and a skimpy party skirt. He couldn’t stop thinking about your body.

He held the delicates in his large, calloused hand, imagining you in them. He thought about what it would be like to be inhaling the source in between your thighs. He held the pair pressed against his nose, closing his eyes, because by now the smell wasn’t enough. He needed to taste you, to feel you, to see you. This routine wasn’t new, sitting shirtless on the couch at night, awake but dreaming. If only you knew the perverted, disgusting things he would do to you. He’d lick and watch every part of you, violate every inch of-

The door opened and the dim light clicked on.

His eyes shot open, turning to face the door.

You stood in the door way, watching the animal caught in headlights.

“Hey Logan..” You say after a few seconds, closing the door behind you.

He stumbles, finally standing, his chest rising.

“Hey Kid.. you’re back early.”

You’ve never seen him this caught off guard. The usually stoic, stern man was completely surprised.

You set your purse down on the kitchen table, looking back at him.

“You found the pair I’ve been looking for.”

“Hm?”

You gesture to his clenched fist strangling his dirty secret.

“Oh, yeah. Mm. Under the couch.” He set them on the coffee table next to the open cigar box, sitting once more, turning his full attention to the floor. Shame radiated off of the man, along with something else, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.

You nod, suspicious.

“And what were you doing under the couch?”

“Cigar.” He motions to the container.

“The box is empty, Lo.”

An uncomfortable silence. He had no explanation, yet you stepped closer. He could smell you now. Through your clothes. It was stronger than any pair of panties you owned.

He looked up at you, standing over him.

“What were you doing, Logan?”

His jeans were bulging, and clearly visible. He was feeling something he hadn’t felt in a very long time.

He wouldn’t answer this question, so you asked a new one.

“What do you want to do, Logan?”

Your tone wasn’t accusatory, it was playful. The smell of your arousal was intoxicating, and very much prominent.

There was so fucking much he wanted to do. That he wanted to do to you. He couldn’t pick one, so he answered,

“Let me show you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, looking down at the sharp eyes piercing back at you. His voice was low and grisly. Now what? You were trying to be sexy, and you didn’t expect it to work. You didn’t think this far ahead. But, you didn’t have to. Before you knew it, you were being pulled down to the couch.

You couldn’t resist if you wanted to, his strength was something you knew existed but would never be able to compete with. His hands were rough but controlled, sitting you upright off the edge of the couch. He moved himself off, kneeling at your feet, holding your knees as if you were a rabbit, ready to dash away at any given moment.

But you didn’t. You sat, your breath hitched in your throat.

He took a shaky breath, attempting to control his own instincts.

“Spread your legs for me?”

Whether this was a plead or a command was unknown, but you did so anyway. Slowly opening your legs for the beast’s view, he was practically drooling.

The smell.

He reached his arms up, keeping his fingers at the waistband of your skirt, waiting for permission.

You unzip the side of your skirt, allowing him to quickly pull the fabric off of your bottom half. You were half exposed now, twitching under your underwear.

He practically moans at the sight of your now dampened panties, grabbing at the sides of your thighs.

You felt open and exposed, blushing and trying to cover yourself with a hand, to which he quickly swats away.

“Quit.” He warns.

You leave your hands at your sides as he dips his head in between your legs. He presses his nose into your clothed slit, inhaling deeper than he ever has before.

Caught off guard, you attempt to shut your legs.

Trying to escape was useless now. You opened the cage, and now the animal was out.

He effortlessly holds your legs open and out of his way and he laps at your private, absorbing and savoring the slick that has seeped through the fabric.

“Christ, you taste good.” He growls from in between your legs.

This wasn’t about making you feel good, this was about him getting what he’s needed for so long.

He couldn’t even wait to take them off, he simply pulled your panties to the side with his teeth, surprising you again when his greedy tongue swiped at your swollen clit.

His grip tightened around your thighs. He’s been waiting for this for so long, he wasn’t going to let you get away now.

His warm spit mixed with your juices covered his chin, dripping down onto the couch as he licked at your insides. Violating your pussy with his uncontrolled mouth, he slips a thick finger into your hole, letting it sink slowly, covering every inch with your wetness. His facial stubble scrapes your inner thighs, sending you jolts, keeping you present in the moment.

He says nothing, just growling and panting as he takes advantage of your sex. He’s moving his hand slowly, agonizingly slow, but he continues to lick at a steady, quick pace, refusing to slow his tongue.

“Hah.. Lo..”

You whimper in an attempt to get his attention, but he doesn’t look up at you. He can’t look at you. He’s intoxicated and entranced, nothing could tear his face away from your pussy. He flattens his tongue against your clit, drinking and licking like a wild dog.

He speeds his finger now, pressing a second inside of you. He ignores his own erection and arousal, because for him this is his pleasure. He breathes heavily, refusing to come up for air. Watching him, beads of sweat form on his furrowed brow as he focuses on your taste.

You start to feel your body give in, warning you of an upcoming orgasm.

“Lo.. please slow..”

He can’t hear you, but he picks up on your body language and senses that you’re close. You feel him grinning against your body, clearly excited to have you cumming all over his face. The shit-eating grin doesn’t last long though, as he doesn’t let himself get too cocky. He keeps his pace, groaning into your pussy. His moan sends the last vibrations you need to set you over the edge, and he eats you through your orgasm.

His fingers slow, but his tongue quickly replaces them, licking and slurping loudly without shame. He needs to get every last drop out of you. When you come down, he finally slows, kissing and lightly padding your sex with his now relaxed tongue.

Your body melts into the couch and you catch your breath as Logan admires his latest meal.

After a few moments, he pulls the soaked panties off for your waist, and tosses them into his cigar box.

He just found his new addiction.

[birdyshewrote]

“Wounded Animal”

PT 1

Female!Reader x Logan Howlett

written by birdy

Summary: Moving into your unfamiliar, cheap apartment had been difficult and disheartening. That was until a mysterious stranger mistakenly found his way into your new home..

WARNINGS/TAGS: +18 Female!Reader x Wolverine. Swearing, mentions of violence, blood, alcohol, and smoking.

——————————————————————————

Moving hadn’t been easy. Moving in general isn’t easy, but moving to a run down, crummy apartment in the shadier side of the city definitely made it more difficult.

It was day three of your new paradise, and the walls needed a fresh coat of paint, the ceiling was still leaking and the faucet was broken. The summer heat was especially bad tonight, which didn’t help with your stress. Opening a window to the night filled the apartment with warm city air and was the only relief of the stuffy, wet apartment. Looking out to the city, your window gave you access to the fire escape, which was cool to the touch when you reached out far enough. Doing your hardest to make the best of the things, you had stayed up late unboxing and attempting to set up your bed frame but to no avail. After an hour of fighting with screws and faulty instructions, you sighed, ordered some Chinese takeout, and queued up some bad reality tv on your work laptop.

You sat where you had slept the previous two nights, comfortably on your old pull out couch, and figured this would have to do again for now. The air cooled throughout the night, and felt refreshing when it brushed against the side of your face from the open window. After some time, the cool breeze became a chill to which you paused your show, put down the chopsticks and retreated to the bedroom for a blanket.

Rummaging through the few boxes you had became a surprisingly difficult task, each being unmarked and unorganized. Photo frames, a stained tablecloth, a sweater you forgot you had, a microwave, some-

THUD..

CLINK

You shot up towards the door. Something fell in the living room. Did your half-built bed frame fall apart? It sounded like something clinked.. Was someone in your apartment? Where was your phone?

Idiot. You left it on the couch. Nice one. Well, this was it. You were gonna end up like every other single, twenty-something year old girl living in the city. Dead or kidnapped or something.

Slowly, quietly, you stepped towards the open bedroom door. You carefully peaked your head out from the door way into the living room and..

A man was lying face up and sprawled out on your couch. He was passed out. A glass beer bottle laid spilled on your floor from his open, rough hand which draped over the side on the couch. He was pretty beat up. Cuts and bruises littered his arms and face. You gritted your teeth as you watched blood from his open wounds seep into your only form of comfortable furniture. Apart from his rough shape and circumstance, you couldn’t help but appreciate his good looks. His black hair messy from whatever fight he had just came from, his fit chest rising and falling, his arms very clearly visible from under his torn, white t-shirt.

You caught yourself staring and returned your focus on getting the hell out of there. Adrenaline poured through your body. Making a break for the apartment door past the stranger would be your best bet. You took a step, but not before stumbling over an empty pizza box, kicking it and making some noise.

Survival skills of a fucking McChicken.

“Huh.. Hey. You.”

You freeze, staring at the awoken man. He reeked of alcohol and regret. He didn’t sit up. He clenched his jaw before speaking again.

“What’re.. you doin’ in my place?”

He stumbled over his own words, yet his voice was so dark and deep it sent jitters through your skin.

You stay frozen, unaware of how to handle the situation. Before you could respond, he closed his eyes once more. After thirty seconds of silence, your stance softened. He seemed too fucked up to be any more of a threat..

You took a cautious step closer to him. His wounds had seemingly healed on their own, yet blood remained on his skin. You thought to yourself for a moment. You already knew what you were going to do.

Before you could stop yourself, you were scavenging for a cloth and some clean water. Your first instinct was to take care of and nurse this brutally beaten man who broke into your apartment through an open window. That can’t be healthy. Maybe some ignored daddy issues. Who knows.

You approached him once more, holding a clean rag and some warm water in a bowl. You sat on the floor next to him, and hesitated before softly wiping the rag against his arm. You slowly worked at his skin, wiping away dirt and blood, listening for any changes in his breath that might warn of consciousness.

Up close, his breath smelt of cigar smoke and whiskey. His jaw was sharp, and his eyebrows remained permanently furrowed. You studied the muscles and scars in his arm, his veins prominent under dark arm hair.

You paused once his arm was clean, now mustering the courage to work at his face. You swallowed hard, slowly reaching the rag out to his bloodied cheek. Before you could blink, the large man firmly grabbed your wrist just as as the cloth could make contact to his face. He opens a slightly swollen eye to look up at you. His gaze pierced through you.

Your voice hitches in your throat.

“What do you think you’re doin’?”

You open your mouth, but no words manage to escape.

He grumbled, letting go of your wrist while he attempted to sit up. The pain hits him, his head pounding as he holds his huge palm to his crinkled forehead.

You fall back, gaining some distance from the man.

What was your plan again? What did you think was going to happen? What the fuck were you thinking?

“Hey.”

He snapped at you.

“You mute or something? What’re you doing in my place?”

You blinked. Now you’re pissed. You stood.

“Your place?”

You snapped back.

“If this is your place, then why haven’t you been paying rent? Because as far as I’m concerned, I’m the only one who put down a deposit and has to pay for my own renovations, because God knows that shit landlord isn’t gonna-“

He put a hand up, squinting his eyes and rubbing his forehead with the other.

“Alright, alright. Jesus fuckin’ Christ..”

You shut your mouth, crossed your arms, waiting for an explanation.

An uneasy silence fell in the room as the threat returned as the man stood. You knew he was large, but seeing his full frame in comparison to the tiny room really made you worry about being argumentative.

He kicked the empty beer bottle, seemingly disappointed, and turned back to the open window.

“Wait- what the hell,”

And then he was gone. Out the window, down the fire escape and into the pitch black alleyway.

All that remained was the bottle and dark blood stains that were never going to get out of that couch.

“What the fuck just happened?”

[birdyshewrote]

“Like an Animal”

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

written by birdy

Note- I’m tired of nobody playing into the mutant or animalistic side of him as much as I want them to. pls enjoy u freaks 😇

warnings/tags- 18+, Animal!Logan, he’s nasty, strong language, he eats you out like an animal okay? That’s the whole plot.

PLEASE SEND ME LOGAN IDEAS ! Mean!Logan, Soft!Logan, I like it all. give me ideas. also feedback appreciated !

——————————————————————————

Being a mutant leads to heightened senses. You’ve seen this first hand in Logan.

The second you start ovulating, he is all over you. Laying in bed on your phone, he’s watching you from the door way. He’s shirtless, wearing dark blue jeans. His dog tags lay across his broad chest, rising up and down as he breathes.

“Logan? You okay?” You ask, looking up from your phone. He says nothing, instead stepping towards you.. slowly. You frown, sitting up slightly.

“Lo?”

When close enough, he quickly jumps up on the bed, pouncing on you like a cat playing with a mouse.

You wheeze under the sudden weight of his body, all 300 pounds. He pins your arms to your sides using his muscular legs, sticking his face and nose into the deep crook of your neck. He inhales deeply, like he hasn’t been able to take a full breath in years.

“Can smell you..” He groans against your ear.

“Lo!” You exasperate, smiling at the sudden attention. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Could fuckin’ smell you from across the hall.” He smells you again, inhaling your pheromones. He starts smelling all of you in quick, jagged breaths. Your hair, your neck, your chest, your face.

You squirm, his breath tickling your skin. His stubble and facial hair gently scrapes against your soft neck. His own scent was intoxicating, that of leather and cigar smoke. A hint of alcohol lingered on his breath, along with his usual musk and light sweat. You knew there was no chance in getting him off of you unless he wanted to, but you try anyway. You grunt, shaking your shoulders in your best attempt to get the beast of a man off of your body.

He doesn’t budge.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’, girl? Hm?” You feel him smile against your neck as he speaks. “Tryna run away from me?”

The sound of his voice trickles into your ears and sends vibrations to the back of your throat. The warmth and weight of his body mixed with the feeling of his breath and the roughness of his face on your neck makes you weak. You know the power he has over you, and so does he. The familiar throbbing that you know so well rises in your stomach and down into your shorts. You shut your legs and clench your thighs to try and relieve the building tension.

Logan’s head rises up from out of your hair and looks down at your face. He can smell your arousal, and you see it in his eyes. His brows furrow, his breath heavy now, panting. He looks at you hungrily. The look in his eyes is like nothing you’ve seen before, and it makes you nervous, like you’re a piece of meat and he’s a starved animal.

“Logan..” You say cautiously. He scans your face as if he’s trying to regain some control over his own mind, his own movements. “Logan.” You say again, this time more direct. He blinks, his pupils steady again. “What is happening right now with you?”

He looks at your eyes. Then your lips. Then your chest. Then back up to your eyes.

“Need to taste you. Right now.”

Your eyes widen at the sudden bluntness, but you’re quickly distracted by a rough hand gripping the side of your waist. You swallow, inches from his face. You feel his warm, shaky breath on your face as he stares down at you with large, pleading yet demanding eyes.

“Need it now.” He repeats, more frantic this time, like if he doesn’t make a move on you you’ll get away. “Gonna give ya what you need, don’ worry baby, I know what y’need.”

He closes that last inch of space and connects his mouth with yours, kissing you slowly. His breath gets heavier, his nose and face mashing into yours as the kiss gets sloppier and lazier. He indistinctively let’s out faint groans and whines from his chest and back out his throat into your mouth. He’s lapping at your tongue now, like your mouth is the fountain of youth.

He paws at your waist, bringing his huge, veiny hand up your side and under your loose top. He cups a breast in his hand, to which he grabs greedily. He couldn’t get enough of your body, and if you weren’t soaking before, you definitely are now. He bites your bottom lip with his sharp canine, gently at first, but once he starts he couldn’t stop. He bites your tongue a few times, kissing you and pushing his face farther into your space. He quickly pulls his face away from yours, looking down at you with half lidded, crazed eyes. He brushes some hair out of your face with his free hand, looking down at your puffy, wet lips.

“You’re so beautiful, y’know that? So beautiful.” His voice is low, you’re the only one he’s speaking too. The only one that needs to hear his voice. “So beautiful for me, all for me. Right sweetheart?”

You nod, quickly licking your raw lip and swallowing.

He kisses you again. Any politeness is gone now. He moves his mouth from your face to your cheek. He trails sloppy, hot kisses down your jaw to your neck. He bites and licks at the top of your ear, then back down to your collarbone. He moves his body down the bed, gently nipping at your collarbone, leaving red marks that will soon turn to hickeys. He brings his head up to look at his doing, clearly marking his territory. His warm face is back on your chest in a heart beat though, his other hand finding it’s way to your second breast. He focuses on perfecting the marks on your chest for a moment, then looks again. You writher under his touch, moving your legs together. Once he’s satisfied with his markings, he lifts your shirt up, letting it bunch at your neck before gently biting at your nipple, pinching the other with his hand. He licks and licks, tasting your skin and smelling you.

“Lo.” You whine.

You feel him smile against your skin before laying one more kiss on your tit, then sits up. He looks down at you once again. Your chest exposed to him. You’re all blushed and red, bruised, hot and bothered. He did this to you.

“I know, I know Bub. I cant wait either.”

He slides off the side of the furniture, ignoring his own painful erection and kneels on the carpeted floor at the foot of the bed. He grabs your closed thighs, hoists them up and effortlessly pulls you closer to him.

“Take these off for me, Baby.” He hooks a finger under your silk shorts.

You look at him, your face flushed, heart thumping.

He’s too impatient, he can’t wait any longer. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you’re already goin’ dumb for me. Haven’t even touched you yet.” He teases as he quickly pulls down your shorts to your ankles, tossing them out of sight.

He sighs through his mouth when he sees your leaking panties, all wet and glistening for him.

“Open up.” He sighs, putting his calloused hands on your knees. When you don’t move, he brings a hand to your thigh and pries you open with ease.

“God..” He groans under his breath. Feeling exposed, you try to shut your legs, but he sternly keeps you open for his access. He dips his head below your knees, and without warning inhales with his nose at the top of your clothed slit.

You gasp, embarrassed, and try to push his head away, but to absolutely no avail. Instead, he sticks out his tongue and gently presses it against your clit. Your embarrassment fades as it’s overwhelmed with sudden pleasure. It’s not nearly enough for anything, but at least it’s something. You let out a quick moan, which he pays no attention too. This wasn’t to make you feel good, this was because he needed to taste you.

He licks at you through the thin layer of fabric, holding your thighs down into the mattress with his large hands. He slowly rubs his fingers into your soft skin, soothing you, simply so you’d hopefully stop squirming. His breath is hot against your drenched panties. He grinds his own bulge against the foot of the bed while dragging a finger up your thigh. It travels to the top of your panties, then pulls them down your legs, around your ankles, and forgotten on the floor. He looks at you now, completely exposed to him. Again, you try to avoid his gaze by covering yourself with your hand, but he swats it away.

“Quit.” He snaps, like you’re preventing him from his work.

He brings his middle finger down from your thigh to your slit, just gently tracing it, trying to remember every curve and detail in your delicate space. You look away, shutting your eyes. He slowly slips his finger in, only to the second knuckle. You groan, your back arching to the little contact. He watches you tighten around his digit, your slick acting as natural lubricant. Your juices coating his finger.

“Mm, look at that baby. You’re already doing s’good. Already ready f’me, aren’t you? Such a dirty girl..”

He keeps himself inside of you for a moment, listening to you whine and watching you twitch around his knuckle. He slowly removes himself from your pussy and into his mouth, licking his finger clean, letting none of your arousal go to waste.

When he himself can’t take it anymore, he lowers his head once more in between your legs. He tries to be slow, but can’t stop himself from lapping and lapping at you like a thirsty dog. His licks are undirected, not aiming anywhere specific, just trying to taste as much as you as he possibly can. He moans against your cunt, sending vibrations through your core. He suckles at your pussy, his nose hitting your clit and his facial hair scraping against your folds perfectly. Lapping and lapping and licking and more licking, never once slowing down, never once coming up for air. Instead he breathes through it all, every inhale making him harder and harder in his denim jeans. He licks your entrance. He shoves his hot, wet tongue in and out of you, over and over again.

Once he calms himself down, he directs his licking to your clit, a little more concentrated but still wild. He slowly brings a hand up, holding a finger to your leaking entrance. Barely any pressure is used when his finger easily slips into your pussy, gripping and tightening once more. Once fully adjusted, he slowly pumps in and out of you while wildly lapping at your throbbing clit.

“Logan.” You moan uncontrollably. The noises coming from your mouth are not voluntary. You bring your arms up from your sides and latch onto the black tufts of hair on his head, pulling. He lets out a groan against your cunt when you pull his hair, and this almost sets you over the edge, but not yet.

He inserts a second finger, curling upwards, hitting that sweet spot so perfectly you begin to see stars. Your sweet mouth hangs open and your eyes water, huffing, trying to control your breathing.

“S’good f’me.” He mutters against you. “Doin’ s’good f’me. You gonna cum baby? Gonna make a mess on my face? Hm?”

Your toes begin to curl as Logan keeps your legs open for himself. When he looks up, he locks eyes with you. His eyebrows are furrowed as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, watching your face.

“So good sweetheart, jus’ like that. Justa little bit more baby.”

He shuts up when he notices your legs sputtering, and starts eating you again. He nips at your sensitive bud once or twice, making you jolt in response. His fingers quicken, in and out, in and out. Then, the knot grew tighter and tighter. You tap his head with your hand as a warning, letting out soft “Ah- Ah”s.

You throw your head back and curl your toes tightly. Your eyes roll to the back of you head. Logan continues licking and deeply fingering you through your orgasm, moaning “Mhm, mhm,” against you as light encouragement.

He keeps licking every drop of juices that you’d let out until you’re a twitchy, sputtering mess. He lifts his head from your clit to mutter sweet nothings, slowing his fingers around your sputtering hole.

“Fuck, so fucking beautiful. You know that, baby? Did so good f’me. God.”

He gently pulls his fingers out of you, and slowly closes your legs for you to give them a break from the unnatural pose. He licks his fingers as he climbs into bed. Logan hooks his hands under your arms and quickly pulls you up into his chest. He brushes your hair out of the way and lays gentle kisses on your forehead as he rubs his hand up and down your arm.

“Feel good Kid?” He asks you, to which you nod.

You completely relax into his body as the two of you lay in bed. He reaches over to the nightstand and lights a cigar, taking a quick puff before smiling. He sniffs the top of your head again, covering his nose with your messy hair.

“You smell really good.”

[dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes]

There are several ao3 fanfics that do. Happy to link them if you’d like. Just lemme know.

[birdyshewrote]

yesss omg plsss do 🙏🙏

[birdyshewrote]

“Like an Animal”

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

written by birdy

Note- I’m tired of nobody playing into the mutant or animalistic side of him as much as I want them to. pls enjoy u freaks 😇

warnings/tags- 18+, Animal!Logan, he’s nasty, strong language, he eats you out like an animal okay? That’s the whole plot.

PLEASE SEND ME LOGAN IDEAS ! Mean!Logan, Soft!Logan, I like it all. give me ideas. also feedback appreciated !

——————————————————————————

Being a mutant leads to heightened senses. You’ve seen this first hand in Logan.

The second you start ovulating, he is all over you. Laying in bed on your phone, he’s watching you from the door way. He’s shirtless, wearing dark blue jeans. His dog tags lay across his broad chest, rising up and down as he breathes.

“Logan? You okay?” You ask, looking up from your phone. He says nothing, instead stepping towards you.. slowly. You frown, sitting up slightly.

“Lo?”

When close enough, he quickly jumps up on the bed, pouncing on you like a cat playing with a mouse.

You wheeze under the sudden weight of his body, all 300 pounds. He pins your arms to your sides using his muscular legs, sticking his face and nose into the deep crook of your neck. He inhales deeply, like he hasn’t been able to take a full breath in years.

“Can smell you..” He groans against your ear.

“Lo!” You exasperate, smiling at the sudden attention. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Could fuckin’ smell you from across the hall.” He smells you again, inhaling your pheromones. He starts smelling all of you in quick, jagged breaths. Your hair, your neck, your chest, your face.

You squirm, his breath tickling your skin. His stubble and facial hair gently scrapes against your soft neck. His own scent was intoxicating, that of leather and cigar smoke. A hint of alcohol lingered on his breath, along with his usual musk and light sweat. You knew there was no chance in getting him off of you unless he wanted to, but you try anyway. You grunt, shaking your shoulders in your best attempt to get the beast of a man off of your body.

He doesn’t budge.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’, girl? Hm?” You feel him smile against your neck as he speaks. “Tryna run away from me?”

The sound of his voice trickles into your ears and sends vibrations to the back of your throat. The warmth and weight of his body mixed with the feeling of his breath and the roughness of his face on your neck makes you weak. You know the power he has over you, and so does he. The familiar throbbing that you know so well rises in your stomach and down into your shorts. You shut your legs and clench your thighs to try and relieve the building tension.

Logan’s head rises up from out of your hair and looks down at your face. He can smell your arousal, and you see it in his eyes. His brows furrow, his breath heavy now, panting. He looks at you hungrily. The look in his eyes is like nothing you’ve seen before, and it makes you nervous, like you’re a piece of meat and he’s a starved animal.

“Logan..” You say cautiously. He scans your face as if he’s trying to regain some control over his own mind, his own movements. “Logan.” You say again, this time more direct. He blinks, his pupils steady again. “What is happening right now with you?”

He looks at your eyes. Then your lips. Then your chest. Then back up to your eyes.

“Need to taste you. Right now.”

Your eyes widen at the sudden bluntness, but you’re quickly distracted by a rough hand gripping the side of your waist. You swallow, inches from his face. You feel his warm, shaky breath on your face as he stares down at you with large, pleading yet demanding eyes.

“Need it now.” He repeats, more frantic this time, like if he doesn’t make a move on you you’ll get away. “Gonna give ya what you need, don’ worry baby, I know what y’need.”

He closes that last inch of space and connects his mouth with yours, kissing you slowly. His breath gets heavier, his nose and face mashing into yours as the kiss gets sloppier and lazier. He indistinctively let’s out faint groans and whines from his chest and back out his throat into your mouth. He’s lapping at your tongue now, like your mouth is the fountain of youth.

He paws at your waist, bringing his huge, veiny hand up your side and under your loose top. He cups a breast in his hand, to which he grabs greedily. He couldn’t get enough of your body, and if you weren’t soaking before, you definitely are now. He bites your bottom lip with his sharp canine, gently at first, but once he starts he couldn’t stop. He bites your tongue a few times, kissing you and pushing his face farther into your space. He quickly pulls his face away from yours, looking down at you with half lidded, crazed eyes. He brushes some hair out of your face with his free hand, looking down at your puffy, wet lips.

“You’re so beautiful, y’know that? So beautiful.” His voice is low, you’re the only one he’s speaking too. The only one that needs to hear his voice. “So beautiful for me, all for me. Right sweetheart?”

You nod, quickly licking your raw lip and swallowing.

He kisses you again. Any politeness is gone now. He moves his mouth from your face to your cheek. He trails sloppy, hot kisses down your jaw to your neck. He bites and licks at the top of your ear, then back down to your collarbone. He moves his body down the bed, gently nipping at your collarbone, leaving red marks that will soon turn to hickeys. He brings his head up to look at his doing, clearly marking his territory. His warm face is back on your chest in a heart beat though, his other hand finding it’s way to your second breast. He focuses on perfecting the marks on your chest for a moment, then looks again. You writher under his touch, moving your legs together. Once he’s satisfied with his markings, he lifts your shirt up, letting it bunch at your neck before gently biting at your nipple, pinching the other with his hand. He licks and licks, tasting your skin and smelling you.

“Lo.” You whine.

You feel him smile against your skin before laying one more kiss on your tit, then sits up. He looks down at you once again. Your chest exposed to him. You’re all blushed and red, bruised, hot and bothered. He did this to you.

“I know, I know Bub. I cant wait either.”

He slides off the side of the furniture, ignoring his own painful erection and kneels on the carpeted floor at the foot of the bed. He grabs your closed thighs, hoists them up and effortlessly pulls you closer to him.

“Take these off for me, Baby.” He hooks a finger under your silk shorts.

You look at him, your face flushed, heart thumping.

He’s too impatient, he can’t wait any longer. “Oh come on, don’t tell me you’re already goin’ dumb for me. Haven’t even touched you yet.” He teases as he quickly pulls down your shorts to your ankles, tossing them out of sight.

He sighs through his mouth when he sees your leaking panties, all wet and glistening for him.

“Open up.” He sighs, putting his calloused hands on your knees. When you don’t move, he brings a hand to your thigh and pries you open with ease.

“God..” He groans under his breath. Feeling exposed, you try to shut your legs, but he sternly keeps you open for his access. He dips his head below your knees, and without warning inhales with his nose at the top of your clothed slit.

You gasp, embarrassed, and try to push his head away, but to absolutely no avail. Instead, he sticks out his tongue and gently presses it against your clit. Your embarrassment fades as it’s overwhelmed with sudden pleasure. It’s not nearly enough for anything, but at least it’s something. You let out a quick moan, which he pays no attention too. This wasn’t to make you feel good, this was because he needed to taste you.

He licks at you through the thin layer of fabric, holding your thighs down into the mattress with his large hands. He slowly rubs his fingers into your soft skin, soothing you, simply so you’d hopefully stop squirming. His breath is hot against your drenched panties. He grinds his own bulge against the foot of the bed while dragging a finger up your thigh. It travels to the top of your panties, then pulls them down your legs, around your ankles, and forgotten on the floor. He looks at you now, completely exposed to him. Again, you try to avoid his gaze by covering yourself with your hand, but he swats it away.

“Quit.” He snaps, like you’re preventing him from his work.

He brings his middle finger down from your thigh to your slit, just gently tracing it, trying to remember every curve and detail in your delicate space. You look away, shutting your eyes. He slowly slips his finger in, only to the second knuckle. You groan, your back arching to the little contact. He watches you tighten around his digit, your slick acting as natural lubricant. Your juices coating his finger.

“Mm, look at that baby. You’re already doing s’good. Already ready f’me, aren’t you? Such a dirty girl..”

He keeps himself inside of you for a moment, listening to you whine and watching you twitch around his knuckle. He slowly removes himself from your pussy and into his mouth, licking his finger clean, letting none of your arousal go to waste.

When he himself can’t take it anymore, he lowers his head once more in between your legs. He tries to be slow, but can’t stop himself from lapping and lapping at you like a thirsty dog. His licks are undirected, not aiming anywhere specific, just trying to taste as much as you as he possibly can. He moans against your cunt, sending vibrations through your core. He suckles at your pussy, his nose hitting your clit and his facial hair scraping against your folds perfectly. Lapping and lapping and licking and more licking, never once slowing down, never once coming up for air. Instead he breathes through it all, every inhale making him harder and harder in his denim jeans. He licks your entrance. He shoves his hot, wet tongue in and out of you, over and over again.

Once he calms himself down, he directs his licking to your clit, a little more concentrated but still wild. He slowly brings a hand up, holding a finger to your leaking entrance. Barely any pressure is used when his finger easily slips into your pussy, gripping and tightening once more. Once fully adjusted, he slowly pumps in and out of you while wildly lapping at your throbbing clit.

“Logan.” You moan uncontrollably. The noises coming from your mouth are not voluntary. You bring your arms up from your sides and latch onto the black tufts of hair on his head, pulling. He lets out a groan against your cunt when you pull his hair, and this almost sets you over the edge, but not yet.

He inserts a second finger, curling upwards, hitting that sweet spot so perfectly you begin to see stars. Your sweet mouth hangs open and your eyes water, huffing, trying to control your breathing.

“S’good f’me.” He mutters against you. “Doin’ s’good f’me. You gonna cum baby? Gonna make a mess on my face? Hm?”

Your toes begin to curl as Logan keeps your legs open for himself. When he looks up, he locks eyes with you. His eyebrows are furrowed as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, watching your face.

“So good sweetheart, jus’ like that. Justa little bit more baby.”

He shuts up when he notices your legs sputtering, and starts eating you again. He nips at your sensitive bud once or twice, making you jolt in response. His fingers quicken, in and out, in and out. Then, the knot grew tighter and tighter. You tap his head with your hand as a warning, letting out soft “Ah- Ah”s.

You throw your head back and curl your toes tightly. Your eyes roll to the back of you head. Logan continues licking and deeply fingering you through your orgasm, moaning “Mhm, mhm,” against you as light encouragement.

He keeps licking every drop of juices that you’d let out until you’re a twitchy, sputtering mess. He lifts his head from your clit to mutter sweet nothings, slowing his fingers around your sputtering hole.

“Fuck, so fucking beautiful. You know that, baby? Did so good f’me. God.”

He gently pulls his fingers out of you, and slowly closes your legs for you to give them a break from the unnatural pose. He licks his fingers as he climbs into bed. Logan hooks his hands under your arms and quickly pulls you up into his chest. He brushes your hair out of the way and lays gentle kisses on your forehead as he rubs his hand up and down your arm.

“Feel good Kid?” He asks you, to which you nod.

You completely relax into his body as the two of you lay in bed. He reaches over to the nightstand and lights a cigar, taking a quick puff before smiling. He sniffs the top of your head again, covering his nose with your messy hair.

“You smell really good.”

[birdyshewrote]

“Sleeping Aid”

Logan Howlett x Reader

written by birdy

Summary: You’re a newer member of Xavier’s Mansion after the infamous Wolverine had saved you during a mission. Since then, you’ve been having trouble sleeping in the new home, and you’re not the only one.

Warnings/Tags: Soft!Logan Howlett x Reader, 18+, gender of reader never specified, Logan calls Reader “Kid”, lots of fluff, smoking, cuddling.

——————————————————————————

It had only been a few weeks at the mansion. The memories and trauma of past experiences and experiments fresh in your head. These traumas mainly came out during night. You’d wake up in a cold, damp sweat. Once you gathered your surroundings, you’d step out of bed, threw on some slippers, and scurry down the long, dark hallways. It was late. Very late. The time of night where everyone was already in deep sleep, so you kept quiet, opening the large doors outside into the large yard.

“Ain’t it a bit late to be sneaking out, Bub?”

You turn to face the voice that you recognized immediately.

Logan stands against the mansion wall. Cicadas and crickets chirp in the summer night. He lifts a cigar to his mouth, a sharp canine gently biting into it. An owl echoes in the air. He peers down at you, a hint of protectiveness in his tone and demeanor, relaxed, but ready to defend.

You pause, feeling caught in the act. “Just.. couldn’t sleep.” You say, rubbing your hands up and down your arms in the chilled, open air. The wet grass brushes against your ankles.

He takes a puff from his lit cigar as you speak, furrowing his brows. He exhales the thick smoke from his mouth before he responds,

“Well, Kid. Slipping out into the night isn’t gonna make those eyelids any heavier.” He spoke low, his tone teasing.

You step forward, slumping down the wall next to him, sitting next to his big, brown leather boots. You inhale deeply. The fresh air mixed with cigar smoke and slight smell of Logan’s musk fills your chest, relaxing you.

Logan lifts an eyebrow, sensing your heavy mood. He rests the cigar in his mouth, kneeling down next to you. His dark, blue jeans bending and folding at his knees.

“Alright, what’s troublin’ ya Kid?” He sighs, looking at your dimly lit face.

You politely smile at his concern, shaking your head. “Nothing, nothing,” you reassure him, “Just uh.. dreams.”

He studies your face and nods slightly.

“Mm.” He hums in understanding. “I getcha. Had ‘em too for a while.” He speaks softly and slowly, his own sleep deprivation showing through his speech. “Come on. It’s cold out here, you’ll get sick. Let’s go back inside, I’ll stay withya. I’ll take care of you.” He puts out his cigar on the pavement and offers a rough, large hand to help lift you up, which you take with your own. He helps you stand, leading you back into the building.

“You hungry?” He asks as you pass the kitchen. You shake your head, rubbing your eyes. He puts a comforting hand on your back, ever so slightly smiling to himself as he watches you walk, your head low, exhaustion slowly draping over your mind. He likes this. Feeling like your guardian. Watching you, leading you back to bed, making sure you get the rest you need.

Once you’re back to your room, he reorganizes your bed, fluffing your pillow, and then extending his hands towards the sleeping area, mouthing a “Ta-Da”

You smile, watching him, kicking off your slippers and flopping into the bed. He throws some covers over you gently, making sure you’re warm and safe.

“Good?”

You nod.

“Get some sleep.” He turns to leave, but you grab his large arm. He turns, slightly startled.

“Do you mind.. staying?”

He could fall apart. Your voice, so soft and gentle, it’s crumbling and puts a twang through his heart. He huffs gently, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you.

“Okay, Kid.” He nods, his eyes half lidded.

You notice the slowness in his voice. “You’re tired too.”

“It’s okay, I can watch over you.”

You blink slowly, looking up at his face. His eyes tired, but gentle. You scoot over, opening the covers. He picks up on your asking.

“Mm, okay. But you better not steal the blanket.”

Before you knew it, the tall, brooding man was laying next to you in your bed, taking up most of the space. You didn’t mind though, this only meant you were in his space, which felt nice. The scent of dark leather and alcohol lingered in your bed. You secretly hope the smell with stain your sheets for a few days.

“Don’t get used to this.” He grumbles against the back of your neck, laying behind you with his muscular, relaxed arm under your head.

You sigh in response, taking a mental note of the space he was leaving between your two bodies. Were you overstepping? Was he uncomfortable? Before your self criticism could be spoken out loud, he threw his other arm over your waist.

“This okay?” He mumbles, half awake.

You nod, your heart thumping in your chest now.

“Are you sure?” He asks, “I can hear your heart. You uncomfortable?”

You smile, and turn your body around to face him. He slowly lifts his eyes open, an eyebrow twitching in reaction to your sudden movements. He looks at your face, the way your smooth skin blends into your soft lips and the way your eyelashes curl up. You look back at him, studying his face for a moment. His dark, thick eyebrows lay relaxed on his worn face. His hair is messy now, untamed and wild. You reach out a hand to feel the side of his cheek, the harsh stubble and beard hair gently scraping the back of your fingers. He gently leans into your hand, closing his eyes again and breathing your air.

You retract your hand, lean down and rest the top of your forehead on his chest. The fabric of his white wifebeater is soft in comparison to his rough, warm skin.

Logan had said not to get used to this. He told himself he wouldn’t get used to it. No matter what he said, nothing could change the unspoken understanding that this was the start of a new tradition between the two of you.

[birdyshewrote]

“Birthday Girl”

Wolverine x Female!Reader

written by birdy

Wade Wilson throws you a rink-a-dink birthday party every year, and this year is no exception. But this time, you have a new guest.. and he’s been watching you for a while.

Notes- hi. ive never written a fic before EVER, so pls be nice. this is mainly for me to be able to get my thoughts out of my head because I’ve been thinking about this man for way too long. happy birthday bitches 🫶

WARNINGS/TAGS: smut- 18+ Logan Howlett x Female!Reader, Logan calls reader “Kid”, light smoking and alcohol consumption, Wade being a menace

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You had caught glances of him a few times in the hall. The scent of smoke, leather and alcohol that belonged to only him drifted in the air behind him for a few seconds even after he had walked into the apartment room across from yours. There had been a few times where you stepped into the elevator and musky cigar smoke had filled the small space. You didn’t complain though, secretly savoring the intoxicating smell, taking more, quicker breaths than you needed too. You couldn’t deny the knot it put in your stomach and the weakness it put in your legs before stepping out of the elevator, down the hall and into your own room.

Eventually, you were tired of the mystery. Two weeks into the seemingly one sided tension, you trapped your long time friend and even longer time across-the-hall neighbor, Wade Wilson, into the elevator with you. Ever since the stranger had moved in with Wade, he had stopped inviting you over. Your birthday was coming up, and so was your annual not-so-surprised birthday party. Once the elevator doors closed, you started,

“Hey, who’s your new roomie?”

Wade scoffed, putting a hand across his heart on his chest, the other gripping a full black trash bag that smelt of blood and for some reason bubblegum scented air fresheners. “THATS how I am greeted nowadays? No, ‘Hello Wade’, ‘Looking good Wade’, ‘Here’s that five bucks I owe you Wade,’

You roll your eyes, putting a hand on your hip stepping away from him. “Okay, first of all, I do not owe you five bucks. You OFFERED to pay for the funeral arrangements after you killed my fish-“

“He looked hungry, who knew fish could be over fed?” He interrupted.

“I told you before I left!” You argue back. “I was only gone two days and you-“ You rub your forehead and shake your head, frustrated. “Whatever. Not relevant. Hello Wade, you do look good.” You say, defeated.

Wade giggly adjusted his weight to his heels, to his tippy-toes, then back to his heels again “Thank you.” He said, satisfied, and turned back to the doors.

“You didn’t answer my question. Your roommate? Who is he?” You ask again as the elevator dings and the doors creakily open.

He raised an eyebrow, looking at you sideways as the two of you walked down the small lobby. “Uhm, news flash doll face, Blind Al is not new. She’s an OG. Been here a while, silly.”

“Not Al.” Talking to Wade was like trying to a horse with dementia. “You know, ‘Mr Tall and Handsome,’ always sulking, ‘I don’t care about no smoking rules.”

Wade throws his head back, “Ooohhhh, you mean Peanut. What about him?”

“No introduction?” You ask confused, watching Wade as he carried his trash down the hall, holding the entrance door open for you.

“Well, I don’t know. I guess Iuh… I forgot.” He stuttered as he led you down the wet alleyway, towards the dumpsters.

“Last month you called me into your room to show me your new toothbrush. You have a new roommate and you just, ‘forget’ to introduce us?”

Wade shrugs, shifting the thin, plastic bag straps in his hand uncomfortably as he walked.

The truth was, Wade did not forget. The truth was, in fact, that one of the first things Wade had done was mention your existence to Logan before he was even fully settled in the apartment.

“I think you two would hit it off, hardcore. And I mean, HARD.” Wade had said.

“Absolutely not.” Logan grumbled, immediately shutting him down, not even looking up from the blow-up mattress he was unrolling in the living room.

Wade sat on the couch arm rest, looking down at the burly man. “Come on Wolvie, let a girl heal your cold, withered heart. You’re a tough, ‘don’t get too close’ typa guy, she’s an ‘I can fix him’ type of girl, I personally think it’s a perfect match.”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m telling you to drop it.” He snapped, glaring up at Wade. “I don’t need you playing Cupid here, you hear me? I swear to God, if I hear you that you’ve even said my name to anyone I’ll get the fuck out of here and never look back. I don’t need to be getting mixed up in any of that shit right now.”

Maybe years ago Logan would have been a flirt, he wasn’t new to women or relationships, but he had been through too much. He had lost too much. He’d never admit it, but the truth was, the infamous Wolverine was scared. Scared of intimacy, scared of getting attached, scared of loss, scared of you. Still, this didn’t change the fact that he had been secretly watching you leave your apartment through the safety of the peephole of his own door. And yeah, maybe if you weren’t so loud coming out of your apartment he wouldn’t know your schedule within a week. Like what time you wake up to leave for work or school, or what time you come home. What days you take your trash out or do your laundry. And when he found one of your sweaters lying around the apartment when he first moved in, what should he have done with it? He was holding onto it for safe keeping. And yeah, he knew it was yours, but only because your sugary perfume clouded his nostrils and made his head feel fuzzy. It was so recognizable, he knew immediately the sweater was yours. Maybe if you wouldn’t drown yourself in the body mist he wouldn’t instinctively know when you were just in the hall, he told himself. It wasn’t his fault he had animalistic smelling.

He couldn’t, however, find an excuse for how he’d hesitate in front of his door, watching for the elevator to stop at your shared floor, wait for the doors to open and inhale the scent of your panties from down the hall once you saw him, then he’d unlock his door and rush in quickly. Sometimes if he was unlucky he’d steal a glance of your full body out of the corner of his eye.

None of this meant anything though. He could contain the animalistic urges he had towards you. Especially when he caught a glimpse of your thigh when you knelt to pick up a dropped grocery. He could handle himself when he heard your thick, sweet laugh through walls when watching a show or movie. But at the same time, what harm would it cause if he touched himself while inhaling the scent of your hair, sweat and perfume through your abandoned sweater late at night? And keeping it locked away in a locked dresser wasn’t creepy, it was just there until you asked Wade to look around for it.

He could handle himself from a distance. He knew this. He knew his limits.

He had been woken up from the couch after a long afternoon of drinking and despair by a loud “SURPRISE!” followed by laughter and clapping. He did not know there was a party going on, let alone a party for you. He was completely blindsided when you were standing within ten feet of him, in his living area, talking to Al and Wade and the others, laughing that sweet laugh

Shit..

Where could he escape? The front door was no longer an option, everyone was clustered in front. Maybe he could make a run for it through the bedroom and out the window? Or maybe take his chances down the escape ladder through the-

“Sleeping beauty has awaken!”

Shit.

Before you could blink, Wade was pulling you through the small cluster of friends to the couch, where a very confused, very hung over, very huge piece of man stood like a deer in headlights. This was your first time seeing him up close, and shit was he alluring. His hair was untamed and messy from his interrupted sleep, his thick brows furrowed. Frown lines prominent as his large muscles twitched under his shirt-

“Hey, his eyes are up there you horn dog.” Wade publicly snapped you back into reality. Immediately flustered, you began trying to save the situation that was doomed from the start.

“I wasn’t looking at- I wasn’t even doing anything, Wade!”

“It’s okay, I know you weren’t. He’s just a moron.” He put an understanding hand up as he spoke. Fuck his voice was so deep and low, almost a growl. It felt rich and threw shivers straight to the back of your throat and straight into the dark jeans you wore. You swallowed. Hard.

After an awkward greeting, Wade had basically pushed a drink into both of your hands and left you to fend for yourself. Logan took a seat on the couch, the worn furniture dipping under his weight. He was clearly uncomfortable. He kept his eyes low, rarely meeting yours. He threw his arm over the head of the couch, spreading his knees. He pulled out a cigar and gestured to it. You couldn’t tell if he was offering you one or asking if you’d mind if he smoked, you shook your head no to both. You politely sat next to him, pulling your legs under yourself next to him.

Unfortunately, this man was not the easiest to speak to.

“So, Logan. You’re new.” You fidget with the cup in your hands.

He lets out a low “Mhm” while taking a puff, then lets smoke pool out of his mouth and drizzle out of his nose, before speaking again. “Yeah. Don’t really know how I ended up here. Just, kind of did.”

You nod, looking around the room. 2016-2018 pop hits played on the pink Hello-Kitty speaker Wade had bought for himself, now sitting on the kitchen table next to the drinks. Various characters lounged around the apartment chatting and eating pizza and drinking.

“Seen you around, y’know.”

You turn to face him again.

“Oh?” You ask, sipping your drink.

He nods in return. “If you need help bringing groceries up to your room or somethin’, you can just let me know. Heard you drop a few things before.” His top lip twitches just the slightest in what you assume is his version of a smile. He puts the cigar back into his mouth and chews.

You furrow your brows at the sarcastic banter. “Oh yeah? Didn’t know I had a stalker.” You bite back, smiling while doing so.

“Not stalking you, kid. Just minding my own business and getting interrupted every two seconds by my noisy neighbor.”

After this, the two of you spoke more fluid. Relating in Wade’s schemes and circumstances became a common interest. You felt yourself becoming more and more comfortable with the man’s presence. After your second drink, your leg rested against the rough denim of his thick thigh. He said nothing about it, so you continued to speak to him. You were unaware of what he was thinking or feeling.

He was freaking the fuck out. Especially when you asked him to go outside with him to get some air. He agreed, and the two of you slipped out of your own party. The night was dark as you walked through the city-lit pathway to the side of the building. Logan watches you and takes another puff of his cigar as you stretch in the open air. You sigh, relieved to be out of the stuffy room.

You could feel his eyes on you. The heat and heaviness of his lingering eyesight, watching your every move as if you were his prey. It made you nervous. It made you intrigued. You wanted to be in his sight, and he wanted to keep watching you.

“You shouldn’t smoke so much, shit’s awful for you you know.” You say, leaning on the brick building next to the tall, muscular figure.

He gives you a slow, sharp smirk in return, his canines showing through resting on the cigar.

Your heart begins to thump and he looks deep into your eyes, like he sees through you.

You let out a shaky exhale as your smile fades and take a step closer to him. He takes the cigar out of his mouth and looks down at you, shaking his head.

“You don’t want this, kid.”

You pause, trying to read his face in the dim lighting. “I do, and I think you do too.” You speak low and soft, like if you’re too sudden with your movements he’ll get startled and dash away. You slowly raise a hand and rest it on his hard, warm chest. You feel it rise and lower, he’s heaving now.

You bring your face up, closer to his. He doesn’t move, so you whisper into his own lips, “Logan, it’s okay.”

The light encouragement is what he needed. He looks down at your parted lips, pushes the lit cigar into the brick wall next to you, putting it out and dropping it, before muttering back,

“Well, you are the birthday girl.”

He leans down to give you what you’ve been asking him for, and what he’s been yearning for. He kisses you, slow and respectful at first, stepping in front of you. He puts his large, rough hand in between your head and the jagged building, protecting you as he pushes you against the wall. You bring a soft hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down farther into your space. He tastes like alcohol and smoke, and you couldn’t get enough. The kiss gets sloppier as you welcome his tongue into your mouth. You look at his face through squinted eyes, only to see his brows furrowed in deep concentration and self-discipline as to not overstep. You shut your eyes again as you grab his other hand, dragging it to your waist. He lets out a soft, low groan in response to the contact of your skin. Your waist feels so soft and warm is his heavy grip. He softly paws at your side, then up your loose shirt. He pauses underneath your bra, and you arch your back in response.

He breaks away, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you momentarily before breaking. “This okay? You’re sure? I can touch you like this?” He’s almost pleading, even with all of the consent in your body. He looks down at you, eyes half lidded.

“Yes, Logan. Stop asking me.”

He nods, smiling slightly, and slowly shifts his long, thick fingers underneath the garment, and towards your chest. He brings his mouth to yours again, greedily taking and lapping at your mouth. The scent of your arousal intoxicates to him. You clench your legs together, to which Logan uses his thick, sturdy knee to break you open and apart. You feel exposed to him now, resting on his knee. The rough denim rubbing sends jolts to your throbbing core. The kissing is wet, his stubble rubs against your lips as he gently bites your tongue with his canines. His hand gently gropes your breast, while pushing his knee against your dampening soft area. He brings his calloused hand down back to your waist, slowly guiding your hips to rock against his knee. He uses his other hand against your head to gently grip your hair and push your head closer against his mouth.

Logan didn’t get you a birthday present, but he was definitely making up for it.