emmie / monie / MEBS✨ i'm 30. she/her. black bri'ish 🇬🇩 🇱🇨
likes & follows will come from my mainblog (@kkunagi)
zendaya's secret wife. obsessed with hockey boys & super-men. 💛
in my eternal blondie era (captain america, dean di laurentis, finnick odair). rugby wag & choso's slut
♥︎ gossip girl, vpd, teen wolf ♥︎
FYI☝
the usual dni applies (any '-ist's or homophobic) + 🔞.
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Currently celebrating a milestone with 30 days, 30 drabbles
i went to the bts concert last night and for the surprise song they played the song from my FAVOURITE album (of theirs and top 3 all time for me) it's like 12 years old so i never thought i'd hear it live. AND it was written by my bias (fave member) and it's a song that means so much to him. like i'm emotional af
જ⁀➴ Coming home to a very drunk, and affectionate, boo.
Pairing: Dean Di Laurentis x Reader
Rating: PG. Fluff
Words: 467
Event Masterlist 〣 Main Masterlist 〣 Next ⏭
⋆✴︎❤︎✴︎⋆
By the time you unlocked the door to your dorm room, it was close to midnight. You’d been in the library for ten non-stop hours, prepping for the most important presentation of your life. Your head was pounding and your eyes were burning; all you could think about was your bed.
You flipped on the light switch, coming to an immediate halt when you saw Dean awkwardly sprawled across your small mattress, his legs dangling off of the edge. Unless you were mistaken (you weren’t), he wasn’t supposed to be here tonight.
He groaned dramatically against the bright light, sitting up slowly and rubbing at his eyes. His hair was a mess, sticking out in all directions. He was also wearing only one sock; the other held tightly in his hand as if he was mid-taking them off when he fell asleep.
The second he locked eyes with you, his face erupted into a large, goofy, grin. His blue eyes were glassy, softened by a mixture of exhaustion and alcohol. Before you could even say a word, he was stumbling to his feet and making a wobbly line directly towards you.
“You’re home,” he slurred, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in. His skin still smelt faintly of beer.
“Dean,” you laughed, trying to balance under his dead weight. “How drunk did you get tonight?”
“Like a pint or two,” he said, swaying on his feet even as he held you. He buried his face in your neck, letting out a heavy sigh. “Logan kicked me out of the house. He said I was ‘plaining too much about missing you.”
Smiling at the image of a grumpy Logan throwing a whiny Dean out of the house, you patted his back gently. “Aww, I missed you too, baby. Now let me go so I can get ready for bed.”
Dean refused to let you go, trailing behind you like a clingy shadow. Everywhere you stepped, his hands were on your waist or his lips were pressing against your shoulder. You couldn’t even go to the bathroom in peace.
“You’re so pretty,” he sighed suddenly, staring at you as though the thought had only just occurred to him, and he hadn’t already told you this a million times before.
You cupped his alcohol-flushed cheeks, rubbing your thumbs over his cheekbones. “You’re very pretty too, Dean.”
He smiled at that, a big one that caused his dimples to show prominently.
When you finally managed to crawl into the bed, that definitely wasn’t big enough for the two of you to be comfortable, he eagerly squeezed in beside you. He pulled you flush against his chest, refusing to stop cuddling and pressing chaste, but sloppy, kisses to your forehead, nose, lips, until you both drifted off to sleep.
💭: Day one officially done! Thank you for the new prompt, I hope you enjoyed cute Dean as much as I did! if you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment, ask, reblog etc, it means a lot xx
☄︎ Warnings: logan puts reader in a headlock (not during smut). smut. alcohol drinking. both being oblivious af. nipple play. reader needy af. missionary (legs on shoulders)
☄︎ Pairing: F!Reader x John Logan
☄︎ Rating/Genre: Mature (🔞). Smut.
☄︎ Words: 6175
☄︎ Summary: Logan’s been your best friend for two years now. And it takes you way too long to realise that you both want more.
💭: john ‘closed cans are safer’ logan. i love you bad! i'll come back to readover this one again as it's a long one and i feel like i missed sth! if you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment, ask, reblog etc, it means a lot xx
Original request here. 〣 Off Campus Masterlist here. 〣 Logan Masterlist here.
If you were asked to explain your relationship with John Logan, you’d probably tell people that he’s your best friend. Your person. The Mark Sloan to your Callie Torres, without the sex and baby part, of course...
The point is; he was a true friend. You supported one another through messy breakups, study meltdowns, hockey losses, and family drama all throughout your Freshman and Sophomore years. Sure, there were a few alcohol-induced kisses scattered across the past 24-months, but you did that with all your friends. It was Briar culture. It didn’t mean anything.
You were just best friends.
You didn’t believe in blurring boundaries. However, tonight, the foundations you’d spent the last two years building felt like the were being held together by nothing more than scotch tape and silly string.
The Hawks’ house smelt like a mixture of sweaty men, cheap citrus air freshener, and the greasy takeout that you and Logan had half-eaten and left on the kitchen island hours ago. You were slouched down on the sofa, scrolling through TikTok on your phone. Sprawled out next to you, with his heavy head resting on your lap, was Logan.
It was a position you’d found yourselves in a thousand times before. He was exhausted from the last practice, and you were his designated safe zone. The hand that wasn’t holding your phone was buried in his thick curls, your fingers absentmindedly massaging his scalp in the way that always got him to relax. His legs were dangled off of the opposite armrest, his eyes closed and breathing slow.
You glanced down at him. His eyelashes were annoyingly long, “why are men always blessed with long eyelashes?” you thought to yourself. There were faint bags under his eyes from a week straight of college essays, early morning ice time, and his shifts at the garage.
Without thinking, your thumb brushed the edge of his cheekbone, sweeping away a stray eyelash.
He smiled faintly but didn’t open his eyes, his breathing still calm and measured and you turned back to your phone screen.
The next video on your for you page had you snorting. You took your fingers out of his hair to forward the video to your group chat with a message.
That had Logan’s eyes cracking open. He blinked against the dim light coming from the lamp in the corner, his dark eyes looking up at you from your lap. “What’s so funny?” he grumbled.
“Nothing,” you smiled, looking down at him. “Just a funny video.”
Logan grunted and reached up, his calloused hand gently wrapping around your wrist to pull the phone down closer to his face. “Let me see.”
Angling the phone so he could watch, you cringed internally. He was not going to get this. The text on the screen read: “When he knows how to handle you”. In the video, the guy had his massive forearm around a girl’s neck, trapping her into a headlock while she giggled. Logan watched the video loop twice, then he looked up at you, his brow furrowing before he looked back at the screen and watched it loop once more.
“What the fuck are you watching?” Logan asked, a genuine chuckle rumbling in his chest.
“Don’t judge,” you said as you gave him a light slap on his shoulder. Your fingers then slid back into his hair, resuming their massage of his scalp. “It’s actually really hot.”
“Girls like being put in a headlock?” He scoffed.
“Yeah, it’s hot,” you retorted, standing your ground. “Especially when a man has like... thick arms.”
The sleepy look in Logan’s eye was completely gone. He slowly sat up and swung his legs around to face you.
“Why do I feel like you’re giving me dating advice that’s going to get me arrested?”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I didn’t tell you to go and find a random girl on the street to tackle, Jonathon.”
It annoyed the hell out of him when you called him that, which is precisely why you called him that when he annoyed the hell out of you. you got the reaction that you were hoping for. His eyes squinted at you, his jaw clenching as his lips pressed together in a tight line.
“Anyway,” you continued as you tried to suppress your laugh. “It’s obviously only hot when you trust the man.”
“You trust me.”
It wasn’t a question, so you didn’t answer him. You turned back to your phone, suddenly hyper aware that he was still looking in your direction.
Logan just stared at you, a serious expression settling over his face as he contemplated your words. The gears were turning in his head, his gaze dropping briefly to your neck before snapping back to your eyes.
“Right,” he said, abruptly standing up from the couch. “I still think you’re weird, but okay.”
“It’s not nice to kink shame, Jonathon.”
He paused mid-step, turning back to look down at you. “If you call me that again, I’m going to pull you into a headlock.”
“I’ll run,” you challenged, shifting your weight to the edge of the cushion.
“I’ll chase you.”
“You are not going to chase me around this room.”
“Try me.”
He looked serious. Really serious. And you had no reason to believe he was bluffing. But, looking up at him and that challenging glint he had in his eyes, you found a reckless part of yourself desperate to test him.
You stood up slowly, backing away a step. “I don’t believe you ... Jonathon.”
The last syllable of the name had barely gotten out before he essentially pounced on you.
Your shriek dissolved into laughter as you bolted around the couch. But, as fast as you were, he was faster. He closed the distance with barely any effort. Before you could reach the edge of the living room, two pairs of heavy hands clamped around your waist.
He manhandled you with ease, pulling you back and flush against his chest.
In the next second, his forearm slid over your shoulder, hooking dominatingly around your neck. You could feel his chest rising and falling against your shoulder blades.
His face buried in the crook of your beck, his warm breath brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I told you I’d chase you.”
A sharp gasp caught in your throat. You were locked against him. Even if you wanted to move, which admittedly, you didn’t, you wouldn’t have been able to.
The moment your body collided with his, Logan lost all sense of self. He had honestly expected this to be a joke, a stupid thing he did where you’d both laugh it off and you’d go back to scrolling on your phone as he napped. But, the second your back hit his chest, the second your hips pressed firmly against his crotch, his brain basically shut down.
You shifted against him slightly, trying to find your footing and get comfortable in his tight grip. The friction of the movement sent an aggressive jolt of heat right below his stomach.
‘Oh,’ Logan thought, a wave of panic flooding through his system even as his grip subconsciously pulled you closer against him. “This is bad. Really, really bad.’
Despite the alarm bells ringing in his head, he didn’t let you go. He couldn’t. in fact, he leant in slightly closer, taking a deep breath and inhaling the scent of you. It filled his lungs, making his chest ache with a wave of possessiveness that he had absolutely no right to feel over a ‘best friend’.
Underneath his arm, you were frozen.
You had hugged Logan a thousand times. You had leant on him during late night study sessions, had fallen asleep on his shoulder during road trips, you’d even shared a bed with him after varous movie marathons. It had never, ever felt like this.
You could feel his heart beating frantically against your back. It was racing. You hand went up to his forearm, your fingers wrapping it. You held onto him, not even attempting to pull his arm away, even though every rational bone in your body told you that you should.
In a normal friendship, this is the part where he would laugh, call you a loser, and let you go. But he was holding you for far too long for it to be a joke. His forearm was pressed firmly against your collarbone, his fingers curling tightly into the fabric of your shirt at your shoulder. He had zero intention of letting you go.
‘Since when were his arms THIS big?’ you thought, mind dizzy and overwhelmed.
A knot of heat coiled deep in your stomach. You felt an ache in between your thighs. The kind that was desperate and dizzying and you had no right to be feeling towards your ‘best friend’.
‘’Get it together!’ you screamed at yourself internally.
“Ummm, Logan,” you choked out, your voice coming out embarrassingly breathless. “You should probably let go now.”
“Oh. Right. Yeah.”
Logan’s breath was ragged as he slowly, almost relucatantly, unraveled his arm from your neck. He immediately stepped back, clearing his throat roughly and refusing to meet you eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“I guess... I get the hype,” he muttered awkwardly.
“Ha! Awesome,” you replied, just as awkwardly.
You practically sank back down onto the couch, your knees feeling like jelly, while Logan moved toward the kitchen island. He began aggressively clearing up the food containers, his back turned to you as his shoulders tensed.
The silence that was in the living room now was no longer comfortable. It was heavy, dripping with something you were too scared to contemplate about now. the invisible boundary had been crossed and you weren’t sure if you could even go back now. or, if you wanted to.
⋆꙳⛸❅*‧
The shift was almost immediate. For the next two weeks, even being in the same room as him sent you into a panic. It was made much worse by the fact that that was also his reaction. You tried to be normal, chilling in the hockey house as you usually did. But, when you both reached for the remote at the same time and your fingers brushed, Logan pulled his hand back as if he’d been brunt.
When you sat on the coach, Logan stayed on the opposite end. When you turned to speak, Logan kept his eyes on his book, even though you’d noticed that he hadn’t turned a page in almost 30 minutes.
But then, there were times where you’d catch him staring, watching your mouth as you spoke. When you caught him, he would look away immediately.
You felt like you were losing your mind. You couldn’t tell if he was acting like this because he felt awkward, or if he was just reacting to your awkwardness.
You looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror, trying get the imagines of him that kept flashing up out of your mind. It mostly involved his biceps wrapping around you as he fucked-.
“Okay, no, I’m obviously just sexually oppressed,” you muttered to yourself. It had been a while since you’d last been with someone, longer than you realised until this moment. “Logan is objectively hot and my brain is just playing tricks on me.”
That was the lie you told yourself. And, to prove it, you finally said yes to Lyle.
He was... nice. He had bright blonde hair, played lacrosse, and had been asking you out at nearly every party you went to for the last few months. You never really turned him down, and he took that as encouragement to keep asking. Truthfully, you hadn’t much minded the attention, even if you had previously never planned to do anything with it. But now, he was the perfect, and safe, distraction you needed from your newfound fixation on your best friend.
The following Thursday afternoon, you walked into the hockey house to drop off a textbook that you had borrowed from Tucker. You weren’t even sure if Logan would be there, as he hadn’t exactly been texting you much.
When you turned the corner, Logan was sitting at the kitchen island, shaking a protein shake in one hand as he scrolled through something on his iPad.
“Hey,” you said, making an effort to keep your voice casual. You tossed the textbook onto the counter.
Logan’s head snapped up instantly. The second his eyes took you in, his posture straightened. At least he was looking at you now. “Hey. You’re dressed up.”
You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling very self-conscious in your ‘dressed-up’ clothes. “Yeah. Um. I actually have a date in like, twenty minutes so I need to go–.”
“A what?” Logan froze; the protein shake in his hand stopping halfway to his mouth. “A date? What do you mean a date? With who? Sorry, what?”
Logan’s voice didn’t even sound like him.
“It’s just with Lyle. From class,” you said. Despite how your heart was currently doing backflips in your chest, your voice was steady. “We’re just getting drinks downtown. It’s no big deal.”
Slowly setting the shake on the island, Logan stood up. You blinked in surprise as you realised, he looked... angry?
“Lyle?” Logan scoffed, the name tasting like poison on his tongue. He stepped around the island and walked over to you, the closest he’s willingly come in months. “The lacrosse guy? The one that wears his cap backwards on his head like an absolute douche.”
You wanted to respond that Logan also wore his cap backwards on his head, but now didn’t seem like the right time to bring that up.
“He’s not a douche, Logan!” you defended instead. You weren’t even sure why you felt the need to defend Lyle this hard. But you did. “He’s nice, and I’m allowed to go on dates. You’re supposed to be happy for me, as my friend.” You emphasised the last word. He was being incredibly selfish right now.
“Well, I’m not. I’m not fucking happy, okay?” he snapped.
“Why?” Your voice trembled, your eyes watching him take deep breaths. “Why are you not happy for me?” you pressed.
Logan closed his eyes for a brief second, inhaling sharply. When he opened them again, you saw the old Logan, your best friend who had beautifully brown doe eyes. But then, it’s like he pulled the walls back up.
“Because he’s... an idiot.” Logan deflected. “He’s just trying to get you into bed.”
“Okay, and who says I’m not trying to get him into bed?” You fired back in a tone you weren’t proud of, the frustration boiling over inside of you.
Logan flinched, jaw tightening. “I just think you deserve better.”
“Well, that’s not your call to make.”
“Yeah. Clearly it isn’t,” Logan growled. “Go have fun.”
You stood there for longer than you should have, before you turned and practically bolted out of the door.
The date with Lyle was a, for lack of a better word, disaster.
It wasn’t even his fault. He was funny and charming. He listened to you when you spoke, and actually asked you questions. But, every time Lyle smiled, you wondered why his eyes didn’t shine like Logan’s did. Every time he laughed, you missed the sound of Logan’s.
He did nothing wrong, except not be Logan.
The date forced you to face that fact that you were becoming hopelessly in love with your best friend. and that it was ruining your life.
⋆꙳⛸❅*‧
By the time the next hockey party came around, you still hadn’t spoken a word to Logan. Nor had he reached out to you. you were too stubborn, too deeply afraid of your own feelings, to break the silence first.
When you walked through the front door of the crowded house, your hand casually looped through Lyle’s arm, your eyes instinctively scanned the room for Logan anyway. You hated yourself for it. Hated how looking for Logan in any crowded room was still your default.
It took you an embarrassingly short amount of time to find him.
He was leaning back against the kitchen counter, a red cup in his hand. He wore a flannel shirt with the first few buttons left undone, the parted fabric showing some the top of his toned chest. His thick curls were framing his face in a way that made him look effortlessly, infuriatingly, handsome.
He was locked into a conversation with a notorious puck bunny who was practically throwing herself at him. And he was eating it up. Logan was listening to her, his head tilted down, his dark eyes locked onto her face with a focused stare that made your stomach violently turn over.
You froze, watching as the girl leant further into him. Her manicured hand slid up his bicep, her fingers scratching lightly against his arm as she whispered something into his ear. Her lips inches from his neck.
It infuriated you that Logan didn’t pull away. Instead, his eyes began to scan the room, clearly searching for something, or someone. His eyes stopped on you when he spotted you, still stood by the front door. The smile on his face vanished instantly. He pulled back from the puck bunny, his posture freezing as he took in the sight of you standing beside Lyle.
You gave him the coldest look you could muster before turning away. You pulled Lyle over to the makeshift bar, immediately pouring you both a heavy drink.
For the next two hours, you put on the performance of a lifetime.
You dragged Lyle to the living room floor and danced on him. You laughed way too loudly at a stupid joke that Garrett had made. You let Tucker convince you to line up a row of tequila shots, intentionally standing directly in Logan’s line of sight so he could see how much fun you could have without him.
But it was a miserable victory. He still didn’t approach you and he didn’t even look that bothered.
Eventually the heat of the house was too much. Ditching Lyle on the sofa, you slipped out into the cooler air of the backyard, heading toward the secondary bar area. You grabbed a bottle of water, pouring yourself a fresh drink, trying to stop your hands from shaking.
The sound of deep laughter had your shoulders squaring. You knew that laugh better than you knew your own name.
Logan and Dean walked over to where you were standing. The moment Logan noticed you there, alone, his laughter died. While he went silent, Dean got louder, shouting your name and pulling you into a hug.
Dean looked between the two of you. “So,” he drew out. “I take it we’re still going this miserable silent-pining thing then?”
Both you and Logan snapped your heads toward him, glares locking onto him.
“God, even your reactions are the same,” he laughed. “I don’t know why you guys are looking at me like that.”
“Shut up, Dean,” Logan mumbled.
“Look, you two either need to fuck and get it out of your system or just confess how you feel about each other. It’s painfully obvious at this point.”
“Dean. Shut. Up,” Logan practically begged.
It wasn’t lost on you that he didn’t deny anything to Dean.
“You’ll thank me for that later,” Dean laughed, patting Logan’s shoulder before turning on his heel and walking back inside, leaving the two of you there.
You stared at Logan, waiting for him to say something, anything. to apologise. To clear the air. But, he didn’t. he just stood there, his eyes burning into yours.
You let out an annoyed sigh and turned to walk past him, done with the games.
His hand shot out, his finger clamping around your wrist. “Wait, don’t go. Can we walk?”
“About what, Logan?” you snapped, trying to pull your hand back.
“Don’t be like that.”
“If you don’t like the way I’m ‘being’, you can go back to your girl.” You gestured toward the house. “You seemed real interested in her.”
Logan looked down at you. You were stubbornly looking away, your jaw set, and you probably would have had your arms crossed if he didn’t have a vice grip on your wrist.
“How much have you had to drink tonight?” He asked suddenly.
“Excuse me?”
“I saw you at the kitchen island with Tucker,” he said, his grip firm but careful. “I saw the tequila. How much have you had?”
“Why are you asking me this?”
At this point, you weren’t even being purposely defiant, you were just genuinely confused at the sudden shift in conversation.
“Please, it’s important.” For the first time in a long time, he really looked at you. You saw the plea in his eyes.
“Fine, if you must know. I had like one drink, plus those shots.”
“So, how do you feel? Tipsy? Drunk?” his eyes scanned your face, checking the focus of your pupils, needing to be absolutely sure.
“I’m not drunk, Logan. Why are you asking me this?”
A visible wave of relief washed over him, his shoulders dropping slightly. “Good, come with me.”
Without waiting for your response, his grip slid down from your wrist to capture your fingers. His palm felt cold against your warm one. He dragged you back toward the back door of the house, navigating the way through the crowd, and all the way up to his room.
Logan let go of your hand and stepped back, running a frustrated hand through his curls. He began to pace the length of his floor. “I need to say something and I just... I want you to hear me out.”
“Okay...” you said softly, going to take a seat on the edge of his mattress.
“I need to... I want to apologise to you.” Logan stopped pacing to look down at you. “I didn’t realise I was hurting you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Well, you did know. You knew exactly how he’d hurt you, but you couldn’t admit that.
“With Sarah,” Logan explained, stepping closer to you. “I was flirting with her because I was trying to get over you. I wasn’t purposely trying to make you jealous. Although, I won’t lie and say I’m not enjoying it just a little.”
“I wasn’t jealous,” you lied.
Your brain was choosing to ignore all the other things he said. While you weren’t drunk, you also didn’t have the brain capacity to try decipher what he was saying. What he really meant by ‘trying to get over you’.
He laughed, and God you’d missed that sound.
“I think you were jealous,” he said. “And that’s good cause it might mean you’ll hate me a little less when I say this.”
“Logan, I–.”
“Please, just let me finish,” he interrupted softly, taking another step until he was towering over where you sat on the edge of his bed. “Remember in freshman year, you told me that story about the guy who got close to you in high school only cause he wanted to sleep with you?”
You nodded, not a pleasant memory.
“I swear to you on my life, that’s not what this is,” Logan whispered. He sank down to his knees on the floor directly in front of you, bringing his face level with yours. “You’re my best friend. The most important person in my life. I didn’t plan for this, it just happened. I just–.”
“You what?” You asked as he trailed off.
“I didn’t plan to fall for you,” he confessed. “It was so easy. Too easy, actually.”
When you were silent, he continued rambling, “And I’ve been thinking about what I would do to you if I had the chance. Every single night, I think about it. So... that’s why I was with Sarah. I’m trying to block it out so I can be there for you how you need me to. I’m sorry I couldn’t just be the friend you needed.”
There was too much to process, your mind scrambled. It felt too good, too terrifying, too much like a fantasy you’d conjured up in the middle of a touch-starved night.
“Logan... how much have you had to drink?” It was like you were trying to find a loophole, a reason to protect yourself just in case this was all a joke.
He smiled up at you. “Unfortunately, I am extremely sober. I could do with a drink, honestly.”
You let out a deep breath. So, this was real?
“I think you should lock the door,” you said, your tongue felt like lead in your mouth. “Quickly.”
He scrambled up from the floor and practically ran to lock the door. When he turned back around, his breath caught in his throat.
You were sitting on the edge of his bed, your eyes locked onto his as your fingers slowly slipped the straps of your dress down over your shoulders, letting the fabric pool around your waist.
“Show me,” you commanded softly. “You have the chance, show me what you’ve been thinking about.”
Standing up, you stepped out of your dress and shoes, the fabric pooling on the floor. You were about to take your bra off when Logan stopped you.
“No,” he said, voice thick with need. “I want to do that. Lie back on the bed.”
Doing as you were told you, you got comfortable on the bed. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth in anticipation as you watched him strip down to his boxers, his eyes never leaving yours.
Once bare, he climbed onto the bed and sat between your open legs. He leant over you, his palms resting flat on the mattress on either side of you. He looked down at you, his eyes filled with lust and adoration.
“I’ve thought about this for so long,” Logan whispered, his voice trembling slightly. “There are so many things I want to do to you.”
You reached up to rest your hands against his shoulders. It should have felt weird, the shift from being his friend, to thinking about him, to being here, under him. It didn’t. He looked down at you with the same expression he had been for a while, and you were sure your expression mirrored his. Maybe Dean was right, it was painfully obvious.
“Can I kiss you?” Logan asked.
“Yes, please,” you plead.
He leant down slowly, so slowly that you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down into you. While his every movement so far was dripping with patience, his kiss was anything but. The transition from his gentle hesitation to starved desperation was instantaneous.
As soon as your lips parted, he groaned deep in his chest as he swept his tongue along with yours. He caught your tongue between his lips, sucking on it heavily. His tongue slid back into your mouth, tangling with yours over and over as he demanded more from you.
Logan’s hand found your jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.
Your fingers knotted deep into his curls, pulling him down closer, matching his desperate pace as a spark ignited deep in your stomach.
“Shit,” he shuddered, as you wrapped your legs around his waist and ground up into him, desperate for the friction.
You whined as he sat up and unwrapped your legs from him. “If you keep grinding into me, I’m going to cum in my boxers. Is that what you want?”
Too dazed on the feeling of him, you couldn’t even tease him for the confession. “No.”
“Right,” he said, “then be patient.”
“Yes, Jonathon.”
You giggled softly under him as he leant down again. His nose brushed slowly against your neck, inhaling deeply as he found the exact spot where you were the most sensitive. He parted his lips and bit down on the soft slope of your neck. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough.
A loud whine was dragged from your throat, your fingers digging into his thick biceps, as he bit down on you. his tongue swept over the bite before his lips locked onto the skin, sucking deeply enough to leave a semi-permanent mark.
Your head fell back against the pillow as he moved to the other side of your neck, feeling happily helpless against the marks he was bruising into your skin.
With one last kiss to the marks he’d etched into your skin, his kisses drifted downward. Logan took his time, his jawline grazing your collarbone as he pressed a kiss to the base of your throat. He used every touch, every kiss, to show you how badly he wanted you.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured between the trail of wet kisses he was leaving across your chest. “How lucky am I, that I get to learn exactly how you like to be touched?”
“Logan,” you said breathily. You raised your chest slightly, a silent and desperate plea for him to keep going.
His hands slid up from beneath your waist. His palms were no longer cold; they blazed against your skin as he traced up your ribs, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His hands then moved to your back, his fingers finding the clasp of your bra.
Logan stopped, he kept his eyes on yours as he asked, “Is this okay?”
When you nodded, he moved to unhook the clasp. It took him a few attempts to get it, not helped by the awkward angle with your back flat against the mattress and the way his fingers were shaking with anticipation. His nervousness only made this hotter for you. Once undone, he pulled the straps down over your shoulders, peeling the fabric off of you and throwing it onto the floor.
His gaze raked down your torso, taking you in completely.
For a split second, you wanted to wrap your arm over yourself, a sudden wave of vulnerability hitting you when you remembered that Logan’s never seen you like this before. But the way he looked down at you with breathless awe filled you with an intoxicating confidence.
With your bra out of the way, he leant down, this time his warm mouth closed over one of your erect nipples. He sucked softly at first, his tongue swirling in a slow and deliberate circle. Your nails dug into his back, scratching at the skin there as he rolled your other nipple between his fingers.
He hummed in satisfaction, encouraged by your reaction. He increased the pressure, his lips pulling at your nipple in tight suction as his thumb grazed over your other nipple in synch with his mouth.
“Logan, I’m so wet.” You loved this, loved the attention, but he was talking his time and, between your legs, you were aching for him. “I need you now, Logan. Please.”
“Oh, but there’s so much more I need to do with you.” Logan would be lying if he said he wasn’t right there with you, his dick was painfully throbbing between his legs, straining against the constraint of his boxers. He had ignored it, wanting to give you the attention you deserved.
“Next time,” you whimpered.
“Okay, baby, whatever you need.” Logan shifted slightly so he was straddling one of your legs. He kept his mouth on your nipple as he pressed his thumb to your clit through the cotton of your panties. He dragged his thumb down over your clothed folds, earning a loud moan from you.
“Fuck, you are soaked.”
Reaching down, you tugged at the waistband of his boxers. He helped you pull them down, wiggling out of them before he helped you wiggle out of your panties.
A thick lump in his throat formed as he spread your legs. “You’re even more beautiful here than I imagined.”
You felt your cheeks heat at the compliment, but he didn’t give you much time to think about it as his dick edged at your hole. He eased himself into you, only giving you a bit more once you fully stretched to accommodate him.
“Is this still okay?” He said through clenched teeth as he bottomed out.
You hadn’t ever been stretched like this, the burn so good. “Yes, Loge, feels so good.”
With your confirmation, he began to move. He pulled out just as slowly as he went in, then drove his hips back into you. he did that a few times, relishing in the feel of your walls around his dick as he moved.
He manoeuvred you so that both of your legs were resting against his shoulders. The new angle had him reaching deeper into you with every thrust. Pulling back slowly, he watched your face as he thrust back in. his dick twitched within you as he watched you sharply inhale, your mouth falling partly open.
“Talk to me,” he rasped. He could see you were enjoying it, but he needed to hear how wrecked the words were when they came out of your mouth. “Keep telling me what feels good.”
There was so much you wanted to say, but instead you settled on, “This. You. Everything.”
He let out a dry chuckle as his thrusts increased in pace. His hand slipped between your legs, coating his fingers in your arousal before moving to your clit. Your hips bucked into his touch.
“Yeah? You like that?”
“I do,” you sobbed.
All you could hear was the sound of your heart pounding in your ears as your vision faded to black. Every thrust now was hitting that soft spongy wall within you.
“Yes! Right there~ don’t stop, Loge,” you begged.
It felt like too much and not enough at the same time. He gasped, feeling you slowly expand and then tightly contract around his length.
You felt his hips falter, his orgasm quickly approaching. “Your pussy is perfect, baby. I’m gonna–.”
“Fill me up, Loge,” you begged, interrupting him so he didn’t even think about pulling out. “Cum in me, please.”
He let your legs drop from his shoulders as he pressed himself onto you so that you were chest to chest. He kissed you as he came into you, his thrusts turning into slow grinds of his hips.
As he came down from his high, he wiggled his hand between your bodies to circle at your clit again.
“I’m so close,” you muffled into his shoulder. “Keep doing exactly that.”
He listened, keeping the same pressure and intensity. You bit into his shoulder, nails digging into his back as you became a mess under the force of your orgasm. Your entire body buzzed as pleasure rippled through you.
Logan groaned against your neck as you squeezed around his softening dick. He lifted his head, eyes still dark and heavy, and pressed a quick kiss to your lips before he slowly slid out of you.
He rolled over, lying flat on his back with a deep exhale. Your body mourned the loss of him, already feeling cold without him surrounding you. a second later, he reached out and pulled you flush against his side.
“As first time’s together go... that was pretty...” you trailed off, tracing a lazy circle on his chest.
“Mind-blowing?” He finished for you, a smug smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
You both laughed then. The sound was bright and easy. it felt so good to just laugh with him again.
“Yes, mind-blowing. Round of applause to you.”
You laughed again as you both started clapping in synch.
“We can never let Dean know he was right by the way,” Logan said as he turned his head to look at you.
“I mean, he probably knows. Knowing him, he was listening through the door the whole time,” you retorted.
You were only half-being serious, but the thought made you both freeze. You simultaneously held your breath, eyes darting to the locked bedroom door, listening to see if you could hear the creak of the floorboards over the bass of the music.
When you heard nothing, you laid your head back on his chest, you knew you should get up and go to the bathroom, but you just wanted to be in this moment for a bit longer.
“We should probably talk about this.” He gestured vaguely between the two of you, his hand moving to rest on your waist. “Like... what this means. For us. For our friendship. Are you okay with everything that just happened?”
“I’m more than okay, Logan,” you whispered. “And we will talk about all of it. I promise. But can we do that tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, “tomorrow is fine. I just want to say that I’ve been your best friend for two years, and I’m going to keep being your best friend if you’ll have me. I’ll just also be the guy who loves you.”
You lay in his arms for a little while longer, wanting to just stay in a world where John Logan loved you.
Ooo this is a fun request! i've not done headcannons before.
but anon i'm so sorry by the time i got to this, i've seen so many other wonderful headcannons that's fresh in my mind and i don't think i could add to them. may i direct you to:
☄︎ Warnings: semi-public (restaurant). jealously-ish. porn WITH plot (lots of yappin to scene set). reader x allie being scissor sisters. squirting. smut. i read this back too many times that i couldn’t proofread, so expect mistakes.
☄︎ Pairing: Allie Hayes x F!Reader x Dean Di Laurentis
☄︎ Rating/Genre: Mature (🔞). Smut.
☄︎ Words: 3279
☄︎ Summary: You've been in your throuple with Allie and Dean for three weeks when a handsome stranger hits on you in the bar.
💭: my babies + reader was so popular that we're back again for round 2. if you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment, ask, reblog etc, it means a lot xx
Read the original requests here. 〣 Find my Off Campus Masterlist here. Read PT1 here.
You were three weeks into this. Three weeks since whatever walls you had built to protect your heart from the hurt had come tumbling down.
In some ways, it was the easiest transition of your life. When you were ‘just’ their ‘friend’, you spent so much time with them, with so much of your daily lives already so intertwined, that your usual routine barely changed.
But, in other ways, it was the most disorientating transition of your life. The deeply embedded envy that used to make your chest feel hollow when you were around them was replaced by something so thick, something so intensely imitate, it left you so breathless you could hardly see straight.
Between your collective college classes, Dean’s demanding hockey schedule, Allie’s theatre rehearsals, and the exhaustion of navigating this newfound passion, the three of you had barely found a moment to breathe... let alone go out on a proper date.
Dean had been adamant about changing that. He demanded a real celebration.
Which was how you found yourself tucked into a plush leather booth in one of the finest restaurants in the city. Every where you turned was wealth and sophistication. The walls were a deep, rich, chocolate brown. On them, was fine art that looked like it cost more than your tuition. The melodic sound of a piano being played floated through the air, just loud enough to mask the low murmur of wealthy conversations around you.
You almost felt out of place being in a restaurant so luxurious, but, tucked into the booth with Dean and Allie by your side, you had never fit anywhere so perfectly in your life.
Allie was a vision next to you, wearing a long, classy but revealing dress with a slit on the side. You could feel the head of her bare leg pressed flush against yours beneath the table, hidden by the tablecloth.
Directly across from her sat Dean. He looked unnecessarily handsome, the top few buttons of his dress shirt left undone. He didn’t even look at the menu to order, instead keeping his eyes on you and Allie.
“I’ll grab the next round,” you volunteered after the waiter cleared the dinner plates, offering them both a bright smile.
Allie shifted her legs slightly to let you slide out of the booth. “Hurry back, babe,” she murmured. “We miss you when you’re not here.”
You felt a giddy thrill run through you, making your skin tingle as you slid completely out of the booth. New relationship bliss was probably your favourite feeling in the world.
Reaching down, you pulled at the hem of the dress that Allie had spent hours helping you pick out for this occasion. It was short, silk against your skin, and hugging your curves in all the right places.
The bar area was a bit more crowded than the main dining area, but you could still see the booth where the three of you were sat from here. Looking back, you watched as Dean gently tucked a piece of hair behind Allie’s ear, their heads tilted close as they whispered across the table.
You were so busy watching them that you hadn’t noticed when a guy moved to stand next to you. He leant back against the bar, swirling his glass of what you assumed to be bourbon. He was undeniably attractive, and his lazily confident posture screamed ‘man with money’.
“A lady as stunning as you should not be waiting for her own drink,” he smooth-talked, tilting his head with an appreciative glint in his eyes. His voice sounded as expensive as he looked, and, had you not been in a committed relationship, you may have even bit.
But you were. So instead, you just laughed. The sound was light, the deliriousness from the excitement of the night and the few drinks you’d had coming through. Honestly, after weeks of hiding your feelings and feeling invisible, it just felt good to be noticed so openly.
“I appreciate the chivalry,” you replied, turning your body slightly towards him. “But I promise I’m tougher than I look. I can handle a busy bar.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that for a second,” he chuckled, sliding a step closer. He raised a hand, immediately catching the attention of the bartender, he was obviously a regular. “But it’d be a crime if I didn’t try. I’m Nathan, what’s your name?”
Before you could answer, the bartender slid over. “What can I get for you?”
“Can I please have two margaritas and a lemonade, thanks!” You ordered cheerfully, before turning back to Nathan. “I’m actually here celebrating tonight.”
“Celebrating what?” Nathan asked. His eyes lingered on your lips, completely missing (or deliberately ignoring) the fact that you had ordered multiple drinks. His gaze slowly trailed the length of your dress before looking back up at. “An anniversary? A promotion? Or just the fact that you look absolutely incredible in that dress.”
You threw your head back, laughing softly at his boldness. “Just a good night out with... the people closest to me,” you said, pointing over to Dean and Allie.
Both you and Nathan looked over at them, your heart racing as you saw that they were no longer whispering to each other. Their eyes were locked on to you and Nathan from across the room. Dean’s jaw was tight, and Allie’s arms were crossed over her chest.
“People... but not a boyfriend?” Nathan asked, ignoring the reactions from the booth, just as the bartender set the drinks down.
You didn’t give him an answer, focusing all your attention on balancing the drinks together in your hands. As you carefully walked away, you added, “It was nice meeting you, Nathan!”
“The pleasure was all mine,” he replied.
You carefully set the three glasses down on the table, pretending like you didn’t notice how squared Dean’s shoulders were or how Allie watched you through narrowed eyes.
“What the hell was that?” Dean asked once you’d settled back into the booth.
“Oh, come on! That was nothing,” you shrugged, trying to dismiss it as you pushed his class of lemonade over to him. “He was just being polite while I waited for the bartender.”
Allie didn’t even touch her margarita. She placed her hand on your thigh as she turned her body towards you. “He looked like he wanted to eat you alive, babe.” Her tone was deceptively sweet, but it was laced with a possessive edge. “And you were laughing.”
“I was just being polite, Al,” you whispered, looking between the two of them.
“I don’t like it when you’re polite,” Dean muttered.
“Yeah, I second that,” Allie added, her thumb pressing harder into your skin.
Before you could even attempt to defend yourself, the waiter reappeared. He was carrying a glass with a bright yellow liquid inside, placing it down in front of you with a soft clink.
“Compliments of the gentleman at the bar,” the waiter said, offering a professional smile as he discreetly pointed back towards the counter where Nathan was still standing. He then slid a white linen napkin across the table and left.
Written across it was a message: for you, love. i recommend the piña colada. it’s just as sweet as you look tonight. A phone number was scribbled at the bottom.
Your eyes went wide, breath catching sharply in your throat. “Oh my god.”
Dean’s hand shot across the table and snatched the napkin. He immediately started ripping at it. He looked disgusted as he balled up the shredded pieces and dropped them into his glass of water.
“Why the hell is he sending you drinks?” Allie seethed, her hand on your thigh tightening. “I thought he was just ‘being polite’?”
“Did you not tell him you were with us?” Dean leant forward over the table, his chest pressing against the edge, burning you with his gaze.
“Well... I said I was celebrating with... people-.”
“So,” Dean interrupted, “you didn’t tell him you were with-with us?”
“Well, no... Dean, it’s not the most natural thing to say to a stranger at a bar, is it?” You hissed back in a harsh whisper. “Hey, I’m here with my boyfriend AND my girlfriend and we’re celebrating our throuple.’’’
“Sounds completely natural to me,” Allie said, before turning her head to look across the table. “Right, babe?”
“Completely,” Dean agreed instantly.
“I guess we’ll just have to show him that you’re taken,” Allie added.
The two of them were a pair of opposites. While Dean’s expression had grown darker, more intense, Allie maintained her perfectly composed sweet smile, when she was thinking anything but sweetness. You didn’t know who to focus on; the two of them together were unpredictable.
Reaching out, Dean’s hand wrapped around the drink that Nathan had brought for you. He leant back against the cushion, his gaze locked on to Nathan from across the room. He took a deliberate sip, Adam’s apple dramatically bobbing as he swallowed hard. He raised the glass slightly, tipping it an inch towards Nathan in a mocking toast.
“Dean–.”
The name slipped out of your mouth as barely a breath. Underneath the heavy tablecloth, Allie’s hand was slowly sliding up your thigh, making it hard to concentrate on anything else. She angled her body toward you, using her shoulder to, mostly, blck the view of her arm from the rest of the restaurant.
“Allie,” you whimpered quietly, your breath catching as her fingers began to trail the length of your folds right through the thin material of your underwear.
“Be natural, babe. Keep your eyes on Dean,” Allie murmured, her voice the definition of sweetness even as the pressure of her fingers increased.
Your heart hammered violently against your ribs as you looked at Dean, desperately trying to not look as undone as you felt. Slouching down slightly in the booth, your legs parted naturally, giving Allie more access. you bit your lower lip hard, almost drawing blood, as her finger slipped past the lace of your panties, finding you slicker than you should be in a crowed, public, restaurant.
She played with your arousal, coating her fingers with it, before finding your clit and pressing down on it. “Don’t worry, babe. Nobody but Dean is watching.”
Across the table, Dean watched the subtle movement of Allie’s arm before his eyes flicked up to you, looking just in time to see your face break. He watched your eyelids frow heavy and hooded and your lips parted in a silent plea, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. He was getting hard just watching Allie pleasure you under the table, watching the way you tried so desperately to be discreet as you squirmed under her touch.
Dean leant forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Shhhh,” he murmured, “Somebody’s going to hear you.”
Just then, Allie pushed the lace aside. She slid a wet finger deep inside you, curving it upward to press hard against your soft walls. Your head rolled weakly against the backrest of the booth as her finger moved back over your clit, driving you closer to an edge you couldn’t possibly go over in public.
“Dean,” you choked out, your hips helplessly twitching against Allie’s hand. “Please, I can’t.”
“Fuck,” Dean responded, voice dangerously low. “Okay, we need to go. Right now.”
Allie immediately pulled her finger from your underwear and turned to glance toward the bar. Nathan was still looking over; his eyes fixated on your side of the booth. She gave him a triumphant look as she popped her wet fingers into her mouth, sucking on them clean and shooting him a wink.
Dean quickly got out of the booth, walking with a slight limp as he made his way to the front of the restaurant to pay the bill.
In the booth, Allie waited a moment for you to gather yourself and pull back down the hem of your dress before getting out and reaching back to take your hand into hers.
The night was cool as it hit your face as you exited the restaurant, but it did nothing against the heat spreading through your body.
Nobody spoke as you hurried towards the car. Dean reached it first, yanking open the back door for you and Allie to climb in. The moment you were both in, he slammed the door shut and jogged around to the driver’s side. He threw the car into drive, the tires making a faint screech as he zoomed out of the parking lot.
The moment the car cleared the street, Allie lunged across the backseat at you. Her body collied with yours, and you both let out breathless giggles as Dean made an aggressive turn that had you falling over each other.
Then, Allie’s mouth found yours in a frantic kiss. She kissed you like she had something to prove. Your hands instantly flew to tangle in her hair, fingers gripping the soft strands to pull her close. she kissed you until your chest heaved, her mouth sliding down to bury into the crook of your neck.
In the front seat, Dean’s knuckles were white as he tightly gripped the steering wheel. He tried to keep his eyes solely on the road but couldn’t stop his eyes from darting to the rearview mirror, watching you and Allie’s hands all over each other. The sight of you two, lost in the heat of the moment, made him push down on the accelerator, pushing to the speed limit.
The car had barely come to a stop before the doors flew open, the three of you desperate to get out. Allie reached for your hand again, her grip tight as she practically dragged you out of the back seat. Dean was already a step ahead, the keys jingling in his hand as he sprinted up the porch steps to shove the door open.
Tucker and Logan were splayed out on the living room sofa; a video game controller in Logan’s hand.
They both blinked, looking up in surprise as the three of you moved through the foyer looking slightly dishevelled, and kicking off your shoes.
“Oh, hey,” Logan called out, pausing the game. “You guys are back early. How was the restaurant?”
Allie didn’t even bother to answer as she pulled you up the stairs.
“Mhm, great,” Dean grunted, following closely behind you both.
“Try to keep it down up there!” Tucker shouted up the banister on a laugh.
An instant later, the muffled sound of the video game that they were playing spiked in volume. The sound blaring through the floorboards as Tucker and Logan turned up the game to protect their ears.
Dean didn’t bother to close the door as he moved to help Allie pull off your dress. For how tight it was, it dropped from your body easily.
Just as easily, Allie unclipped your bra and pulled it off. Dean was immediately on you then, hands caressing your tits as Allie undressed.
Once undressed, she crawled onto the bed and spread her legs. You and Dean watched as she touched herself, hands running down her body and dipping between her legs. She got herself real worked up. From where you both were watching, you could see her pussy glistening with her arousal.
“Please~,” she whined, hips rocking as she circled her clit faster. “I need– someone–.”
“You go,” Dean whispered, gently pushing you towards the bed.
You should have felt embarrassed by how fast you clambered towards the bed, crawling over her leg until you were at her waist. with one leg swung over her hip, you lined your pussy up with hers before pressing down into her.
You didn’t immediately find her clit, but your hole clenched as your slick folds slid over hers. She reached down to part herself with two fingers, exposing her clit.
Shifting your hips, you moved until you found the perfect angle that had your clits brushing against each other.
“Shit,” Allie breathed, her head lolling back.
Hooking one of her legs over your shoulder, you held on to that as you pressed your soaking pussy onto hers with more pressure. Your moans mixed at every grind of your hips, your clits sliding against one another’s creating a delicious friction.
“Thaaaaat’s it, baby,” you moaned as she bucked her hips up into you.
Beside the bed, Dean was sitting on the chair, cock thick and twitching in his hand as he jerked off to the sight of you rolling your hips down into Allie. The pleasure built with each movement of your hips, your soaked, aching, clits pressed tightly against each other.
The room is filled with the wet sound of your pussies rubbing together, of your hips snapping against hers. Dean’s grunts were dwarfed by the sound of you & Allie’s gasps.
“You’re so beautiful, babe.” Allie was looking up at you, eyes lustful but so sincere. It made more heat pool in your belly.
“I love you, Al,” you stuttered into her ankle. You rolled your hips tighter now, circling her clit with yours.
“I’m going to cum,” she told you, “I’m going to make a mess all over your pussy.”
“Cum for me, pretty girl,” you rasped.
The pressure on Allie’s clit started to overwhelm her but her hips kept pushing up to meet yours. With one strong grind of your hips, the feeling pushed her over the edge. She screamed your name as she squirted into your pussy, warm, clear, liquid pooling between your bodies.
You felt her twitch and clench beneath you, the feeling sending you into overdrive. As she came down from her high, your hips sped up, desperately chasing your own release. But Allie grabbed at your hips, holding you still against her.
“Babe, lie back,” Allie said, voice still breathless, “I want to watch Dean fuck you.”
You nodded and looked over at Dean, who was already getting up and making his way to the bed. Allie shifted back slightly, propping herself up against the pillows. You settled between her spread legs; the back of your shoulders pressed against her stomach.
She hooked her legs over your thighs, spreading you wider for Dean who lined himself up.
“I won’t last long,” he warned as you felt him nudging at your entrance.
He sunk into you as slow as he could manage, your pussy so slick it made a squelching sound.
Allie couldn’t take her eyes off of the way your pussy swallowed him up, even she squeezed and rolled your nipples between her fingers.
“Please, I need to cum,” you begged. The fact that you hadn’t cum yet definitely felt like punishment from what happened at the restaurant.
“Okay, baby girl.” Allie reached down, her fingers immediately applying pressure to your clit.
At the same time, Dean thrust into you at a quicker pace. He wasn’t gentle either, each thrust pushed him deeper into you.
“Fuck, I’m already going to cum,” he grunted, brow furrowed.
He thrusted into you three more times before he filled you up with his release. His warm cum mixing with the remnants of Allie’s release.
Allie’s hands moved back to your nipples as Dean’s finger flicked over your clit. It wasn’t long before your back was aching up, body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you.
Dean collapsed onto you, pinning you between his and Allie’s warmth. You could feel the mixture of releases dripping down you, settling onto the duvet. The three of you settled into a comfortable silence as you laid there in your own messes.
“Dude,” Tucker shouted, interrupting the peace, “close your fucking door!”
being busy the past five days has punished me cus I missed this masterpiece😔
SIGN ME UP FOR JEALOUS DEANALLIE
Allie was a vision next to you, wearing a long, classy but revealing dress with a slit on the side. You could feel the head of her bare leg pressed flush against yours beneath the table, hidden by the tablecloth.
Directly across from her sat Dean. He looked unnecessarily handsome, the top few buttons of his dress shirt left undone. He didn’t even look at the menu to order, instead keeping his eyes on you and Allie.
mmm MMm MMMM!!!
“Celebrating what?” Nathan asked. His eyes lingered on your lips, completely missing (or deliberately ignoring) the fact that you had ordered multiple drinks. His gaze slowly trailed the length of your dress before looking back up at. “An anniversary? A promotion? Or just the fact that you look absolutely incredible in that dress.”
BACK—GET—GET BACK EWWWWWW 🍆🤏
Both you and Nathan looked over at them, your heart racing as you saw that they were no longer whispering to each other. Their eyes were locked on to you and Nathan from across the room. Dean’s jaw was tight, and Allie’s arms were crossed over her chest.
AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH
me immediately in that restaurant after seeing those looks:
“So,” Dean interrupted, “you didn’t tell him you were with-with us?”
“Well, no... Dean, it’s not the most natural thing to say to a stranger at a bar, is it?” You hissed back in a harsh whisper. “Hey, I’m here with my boyfriend AND my girlfriend and we’re celebrating our throuple.’’’
“Sounds completely natural to me,” Allie said, before turning her head to look across the table. “Right, babe?”
“Completely,” Dean agreed instantly.
“I guess we’ll just have to show him that you’re taken,” Allie added.
oop—ermmm. I thinks she's boutta get a spanking...
....“Fuck,” Dean responded, voice dangerously low. “Okay, we need to go. Right now.”
...Dean quickly got out of the booth, walking with a slight limp as he made his way to the front of the restaurant to pay the bill.
...and you both let out breathless giggles as Dean made an aggressive turn that had you falling over each other.
....In the front seat, Dean’s knuckles were white as he tightly gripped the steering wheel. He tried to keep his eyes solely on the road but couldn’t stop his eyes from darting to the rearview mirror, watching you and Allie’s hands all over each other. The sight of you two, lost in the heat of the moment, made him push down on the accelerator, pushing to the speed limit.
“Oh, hey,” Logan called out, pausing the game. “You guys are back early. How was the restaurant?”
Allie didn’t even bother to answer as she pulled you up the stairs.
“Mhm, great,” Dean grunted, following closely behind you both.
brooo.... dean is so fucking pathetic for them LMAOOOOO
he's giving resident needy dildo😭
☄︎ Warnings: thigh ridin’. dean calls himself daddy dean. overuse of sweetheart.
☄︎ Pairing: F!Reader x Dean Di Laurentis
☄︎ Rating/Genre: Mature (🔞). Smut.
☄︎ Words: 1090
☄︎ Summary: You’ve had a frustrating day and your boyfriend gladly lends his thigh in service.
💭: my first thigh riding fic lolol🧍🏽♀️ so i hope it's enjoyable! if you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment, ask, reblog etc, it means a lot xx
Original request here. 〣 Off Campus Masterlist here.〣 Dean Masterlist here.
Dean didn’t even look up from his game of chess when his door swung open, but a faint smile ghosted his lips as he listened to the sound of your bag hitting the floor, and you stomping over to his bed. You face-planted straight into his pillows, letting out a dramatically loud groan.
Slowly, he leant back in his desk chair as he looked over his shoulder. You were splayed out on his bed; your skirt have risen up so it lay just below your ass.
“Rough day, sweetheart?” His voice drawled.
You didn’t lift your face from where it was buried in the pillows, you just raised one arm and gave him a weak thumbs down.
Dean let out a soft huff of laughter. He turned his chair around to face you, resting his forearms on his knees.
“Aww,” he cooed. “What's happened? Come tell Daddy Dean all about it.”
When you still didn’t budge, he leant forward and tickled your leg. That got you to move. You rolled over, jerking your leg away and glaring at him, before pushing yourself off of the bed.
He slouched down slightly in the chair, slapping the tops of his thighs. “Take a seat.”
You sat sideways over his legs, burying your face into the crook of his neck. You breathed him in, the scent instantly soothing some of your anger.
“Talk to me,” he murmured, his thumb starting a slow, soothing, circle against your hip. His other hand rested on your bare inner thigh, just above your knee.
For a solid ten minutes, you didn't stop talking. You vented about everything. The professor who wouldn't listen, the additional last-minute assignments your other lecturer had piled on, the minor annoyances that had built up all day.
Dean just listened. He didn't interrupt and didn't try to fix anything with annoying man logic, because that’s not what you needed right now. You just needed to get it out. Now that you were winding down, you were left with a mild frustration, rather than the burning anger. Your frustration, however, still needed an outlet. A different kind of outlet you realised as you shifted on his lap.
His hand slid slowly up from your waist, slipping under your shirt to rest against the warm skin of your back. He brought his other hand further up your inner thigh, resting close to the hem of your skirt. You lost your train of thought as you shifted your weight again, trying to get his hand closer to your warmth.
“What can I do for you?” He murmured. To be fair to him, the question was a genuine one. But you shifted again in his lap, your body subconsciously seeking the relief it had been craving all day.
You placed your palm over the hand that was on your thigh, dragging his hand up between your legs. Your legs parted slightly, so he could easily cup your clothed pussy.
The fingers on your other hand tangled into the hair at the nape of his neck, gently tugging at the short ends.
“I’ve got you, I’ve got you sweetheart,” he cooed in your ear, his voice thick as he pressed his thumb down on your clit over your cotton panties.
He nipped at your neck as his fingers slipped past the waistband of your underwear. He ran his fingers through your arousal, before moving back to your clit. Under his touch, the reminder of your bad day began melting away.
You were wound so tight that you were already becoming a blubbering mess, your hips gyrating on his lap, but you didn’t want to cum like this. Your free hand reached under your skirt to pull at the waistband of your panties, and he immediately moved to help you, guiding them down your hips and over your legs.
“Can I?” you breathed, gesturing down to his thigh.
“Of course,” he soothed, baby blue eyes looking into yours. “Take what you need, sweetheart.”
You shifted so that you were straddling over his right thigh. You tilted your pelvis, moving around on top of him until you found the exact angle that gave you the most friction against your throbbing clit.
Hands dropped against his chest, gripping the fabric of his t-shift as you rocked your hips against his thigh again.
Dean watched with bated breath as your mouth parted, head lolling back as the heat between you built with every hard slide on him.
“You’re so pretty,” he praised.
His hands came to your hips, helping to keep you stable, but he kept his grip light, letting you build up your own desperate rhythm.
Every glide coated his trousers with more arousal. You were dripping with need as you rolled your hips, putting deliberate pressure on your clit that ached so badly for attention.
One of Dean’s hands came to your chin, directing you to look down at him. “You’re using me so well, sweetheart.”
“Need you... so bad,” you panted as your clit caught on the fabric of his pants.
“I know, baby,” he said. He let go of your jaw and brought his hand to give you a soft smack to your ass, “and you have me, you’re doing such a good job.”
“Yeah?” You questioned, the praise sending shivers down your body and making your hips move faster.
“Yes, sweetheart, you’re so perfect,” he groaned, his eyes dark as he watched the effects of his words on your face.
Suddenly, he shifted his position, raising his heel high, purposely flexing his thigh as he pressed harder against you. A sharp gasp tore from your throat at the new angle, your forehead dropping against his shoulder.
You shamelessly whined as the familiar knot in your stomach pulled tighter at tighter, before it released, exploding pleasure over your body.
Dean held you tightly, his arms wrapping around your waist as waves of pleasure hit you. your released washed every bit of the day’s frustration away, leaving your body buzzing in his arms.
“Better?” He asked softly.
“Yeah, much better.” You lifted your head from his shoulder and leant forward to press a few chaste kisses to his lips. “Thanks for listening.”
“Anytime,” he replied, reaching up to cup your cheek and pull you into another kiss. When he pulled back, there was a familiar spark in his eyes.
“Now, what do we do about this?” He asked, wrapping his hands around your wrist and gently bringing your hand down to cup where his erection straining against his pants.
☄︎ Warnings: oral (f!receiving), ridin’, sweaty logan, not proofread (it's 3am i'm sorry)
☄︎ Pairing: F!Reader x John Logan
☄︎ Rating/Genre: Mature (🔞). Smut.
☄︎ Words: 2800
☄︎ Summary: You and Logan semi-make up in the locker room after an argument.
💭: am I toxic? lol🧍🏾♀️you all are making my logan obsession become so much worse!! i’m supposed to be a loyal dean girlie pls! but... i have some more logan fics to get to which i am very excited about hehe... if you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment, ask, reblog etc, it means a lot xx
Read the original request here. 〣 Find my Off Campus Masterlist here.
You paced the length of the Hawk’s arena hallway, trying your best not to let your impatience show. The muffled sound of celebratory music thumping from the main arena doors down the hallway doing nothing but making you even more antsy.
Under your impatience, you were furious. You had been furious since last night, when you and Logan argued over something so miniscule that you couldn’t even remember what it was about. While you don’t remember the cause of it, you do remember that you’re furious about it.
It didn’t help that the two of you hadn’t spoken to one another from since he had said, “I love you, but I’m not doing this right now.” and walked out of your dorm, slamming the door on his way out. Okay, he hadn’t actually slammed the door but, to you, he basically did. And that made you furious.
Despite your stubborn vow to ignore him until he came crawling back to you, you still found yourself sitting in the stands with Hannah and Allie to watch the game. You had, childishly, planned to look unbothered and uninterested in the game. You had even practised your yawn. But, from the moment that Logan took to the ice to the time he got off it, you were on the edge of your seat.
He played like a man possessed. Obviously, he was just as furious as you were and he had channelled all of that into the game. He was checking the Harvard guys into the plexiglass with such a force that you swear you saw it wobble. He threw his head back and roared when he scored, it took all of your dignity to not start moaning right there and then.
Every time he skated past your section, chest heaving under the padding, you became a little less angry with him. And, somehow, a whole lot more furious with him.
And this wait was making it worse.
The double doors of the locker room finally clicked open; the team flooding out in chaotic chatter. You watched as the partners gravitated towards their boyfriends. That should be you and Logan, but it’s not because you’re ‘fighting’. You stayed with your back against the wall, waiting for the hallway to clear. You knew that Logan wouldn’t be coming out with them.
Once the hallway cleared and the voices faded, you pushed open the door and stepped into the way-too-brightly lit locker room.
Logan was sitting in his stall, his forearms resting heavily on his knees as he stared blankly at the Hawks logo on the carpeted floor. His thick, dark curls fell over his eyes, soaked with sweat. He was still in his uniform, only his skates and helmet were off, discarded somewhere on the floor.
Even from across the room, you could feel the pent-up aggression vibrating off of him in waves.
When the door clicked shut behind you, his head snapped up. You leant back against the it, refusing to come in any further. You’d already taken the first step towards him. Now he had to come to you. His eyes narrowed on you, dark and intense.
“You’re still here,” he rasped. It wasn’t a question, but you answered it anyway.
“Yes,” you said, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. And, because you were being petty, added, “and, I’m still mad at you.”
Logan snorted, running a tense hand through his damp hair. He slowly stood up and walked over to you, stopping inches away from you.
Without his skates, he didn’t tower over like he would have done on the ice, but he was tall enough and wide enough to make you feel surrounded as you stood up straighter against the door.
His jaw clenched as he looked down at you and you felt a sudden heat pooling between your legs.
“I’m still mad at you,” he fired back.
“Mhm,” you murmured.
Your eyes greedily looked over him. The way his brow was furrowed. The sharpness of his jawline. The way he watched you looking all dark and serious. He looked rugged, undone, and it was so attractive to you that it made your heart ache and pussy clench.
His jaw clenched under your scrutiny, his gaze dropping to your lips as his breathing became shallower, more uneven.
“Have you come to pick another fight?” Logan asked.
“Maybe,” you countered, your voice steady despite your racing pulse. “Why? Do you want me to?”
“No.”
“Well, then I’m not here for that.”
“Then why are you here?”
He knew why you were here, the asshole. He could see your eyes travelling his body. He could see you watching the sweat roll down his neck. There’s no way he didn’t notice your chest rising or the way your eyes had dilated. He just wanted to hear you say it.
He leant forward slightly, hands slamming against the wall on either side of your head, trapping you there.
God, the smell of him. From this close, it was overwhelming. The smell of his sweat shouldn’t have pulled you in the way it did. But there was something so him and so masculine about the way he smelt.
That’s how you knew you were down bad.
You looked up at him, your stubbornness and pride pushed aside by the unadulterated need. “Are you going to kiss me or what?”
He didn’t answer and worse, he didn’t kiss you. Instead, the motherfucker smirked at you. He slipped his hands under your thighs, grabbing a hold of your ass and effortlessly lifted you up. He pressed you back against the door and you instinctively wrapped your legs around him.
The padding under his jersey prevented you from being chest to chest, forcing him to lean forward and tilt his face towards yours.
He hovered there, his lips a fraction away from yours, so close that you could feel the rapid puff of his warm breath on you, but he still wouldn’t kiss you. He stared down at your lips, then looked back up at you. You looked into his eyes, seeing the intensity of last night’s anger, tonight’s victory, and his raw desire for you. It was one of the things you loved most about him, he couldn’t hide anything in his eyes.
You felt a vein in your neck throb. You tilted your chin up, expecting him to crash his lips against yours now that you’ve made the first move. But Logan deliberately pulled his head back just an inch further. Teasing you. Letting you ache for it.
“Asshole,” you muttered, your fingers digging tightly into the damp fabric of his padded shoulders.
“Say that again.”
Instead of answering, you tried to pull his head down, but he held his ground. Keeping his eyes locked on yours, he shifted his weight, deliberately grinding his hips forward to press the hardness in his pants right against you.
“Ass. Hole.” You punctuate each syllable, if that’s what he wanted, you would give it to him.
His eyes flared as heat ran through his body. He ground into you again, making your breath hitch.
Lifting you higher in his arms, he pressed himself against you. His dick was twitching in his pants, and he so desperately needed relief.
“What am I going to do with you?” He let out an exasperated laugh as he tilted his head and leant into you.
The first touch of his lips was just a soft brush, but it still sent a ripple down your spine. You hadn’t expected him to be so delicate after the way he’d been looking at you and teasing you. He lingered there, brushing his lips across yours.
He brushed his lips against yours once more, before capturing your lower lip between his teeth, biting and tugging slightly.
You moaned.
The second the sound left your throat; Logan released your lip and kissed you for real. It was bruising and desperate and exactly what you needed to get out the frustrations of the last 24 hours. His hands were suddenly all over you in a frantic blue, sliding up the hem of your shirt, cupping your ass to lift you higher, caressing your face to tilt your mouth deeper into his.
Clinging to his neck, you were only faintly aware that he had begun moving. He kept his lips on yours, carrying you across the room as he stumbled to his locker.
He didn’t break the kiss until he was in front of his locker. As his hands slid from your ass, to your waist, he pulled back, eyes locking onto yours as his chest heaved.
“Pants off,” he said, voice gruff.
The moment you unwrapped your legs from him and stood up, he was there to help you with your jeans. His fingers were trembling as he frantically tried to undo the button.
Once your jeans slid down, you sat back on the black cushion of his locker bench, looking up at him with your heart hammering in your chest.
Logan dropped to his knees, settling right between your legs. His hands gripped your knees, spreading your legs open to look at the wet patch on your panties.
He stayed there for a beat, thinking about exactly how he wanted to devour you first. He settled on your thighs first.
His hands stayed gripped on your knees as he leant forward, pressing kisses and sucking on the sensitive skin along your inner thigh, travelling up. He got unbearably close to where you were waiting for him, already soaked, before trailing back down again.
You let out a frustrated whimper, your fingers clawing at his scalp.
On his third journey up, a heavy hand came to your stomach as he gently guided you to lean back against the wooden cubby. At the same time, his other hand slid around your lower back.
With an effortless tug, he pulled you forward until your ass was right at the edge of the bench. You rested one leg over his shoulder, completely opening you up to him.
It had only been a day and a half since he last had his face buried between your legs, but to him, it might as well have been an eternity.
“Fuck, baby, I missed this,” he said as he buried his face between your legs, inhaling you in.
With one hand, he slid your panties to the side and parted one of your folds so he could lick a fat stripe up your pussy. He did it again, and again, and again, lapping up the juices there before moving to focus on your clit.
Your hips bucked into his mouth as he flicked his tongue against you. He had no more intentions to tease you; he wanted you to cum on his face.
He used his nose to rub against your clit and you shamelessly rolled your hips over it. The friction feeling so good.
A whine caught in your throat as he dove back in with his tongue, flicking from left to right.
“Logan~~.”
He looked up at you, spit and arousal shining on the lower half of his face. “Feel good, baby?”
“So, good, you always make me feel so good.” You curled your fingers in his dark curls, pushing him back between your legs.
Chuckling at your impatience, he went right back to work. His hand slipped under the hem of your top again so he could squeeze and knead your breast, the other still holding your panties so he could get at you.
You tugged at his hair as he pressed his tongue against you and swirled it in uncontrolled circles.
When he was between your legs, all he cared about was giving you exactly what you wanted. What your body needed. You needed, he obliged, tongue continuing to flick and swirl against you.
“Don’t stop– I’ll...” Your thought died on a moan.
The locker room was filled with the wet sounds of him moving his mouth against you, and the loud lewd moans that you freely let out. You didn’t care if anybody was around to hear you. In fact, you wanted them to hear just how good Logan was to you.
He could feel himself getting drunk off of the taste of you, his body was warm and buzzing. He was starting to feel delirious as your hips rolled on him.
The pressure of his tongue on you was perfect, you could feel the pleasure build steadily within you.
“Your tongue feels so good, Loge,” you praised. You were close. So close.
“Then come for me,” he said as he slid two fingers inside of you, curving and caressing your walls.
Shockwaves of pleasure ran over you as you came, clenching on his fingers. He kept his mouth on you through it, humming and moaning at the taste of you.
When your body finally settled, he sat back on his knees, panting heavily as his lips glistened in the harsh fluorescent blue lighting. You reached over, pulling him in for another kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.
“Wanna ride you, Loge,” you mumbled against his lips.
Logan didn’t need to be told twice; he was already thumbling with his pants when you pulled back to take your panties off.
The pants were barely down past his knees when you gently pushed him to lie flat on the carpet and straddled him.
“Just lay back, let me take care of you now,” you soothed as you ground against him, leaving a trail of slick arousal on his aching dick.
He practically whimpered as you continued to slide over him.
“B-baby.” His hands came to your waist, thumbs digging into your skin through your top. “Let me fuck you.”
Looking down at him, his eyes were half-lidded as they pleaded you. Who were you to argue with those beautiful brown eyes.
Lifting your hips up slightly, you held his dick to guide it into your pussy.
As your hole stretched around his tip, he let out a strangled moan. You watched him as you slowly lowered yourself onto him, coming to a full seat.
He throbbed and twitched within you, his thick head leaking pre-cum. You circled your hips, relishing in the feeling of him rubbing against your walls.
You hadn’t even really moved yet and he already looked wrecked. His mouth was hung slightly open, eyes squeezed shut. You craved more, to see him absolutely shattered by you.
Bracing your hands on his on the still damp fabric of his Briar U jersey, you began to move. You don’t raise your hips high, choosing smaller bounces and grinds of your hips.
For a few minutes of bounces, he let you set your pace, grunting and groaning as you sensually moved over him.
Each bounce brought him to the brink of desperation, his restraint wearing thin.
The hands on your waist tightened as he helped guide your rhythm in desperation. He needed you faster, he needed you to slam back down onto him harder.
“You were so hot out there.” Your voice was breathy, bouncing on him the way you were had you exhausted. “I wanted to touch myself just watching you play.”
The praise made him grip you impossibly tighter, made him slam you back down even harder.
His dick curved just the right way to hit your g-spot, causing you to see stars as you clenched around him. You moaned in tandem, his head thrown back as a result of your vice grip.
You didn’t care that if anyone opened the door right now, they’d come face to face with you bouncing on it. He didn’t care that the carpet rubbed at his ass as he tried to thrust up into you, limited by his pants around his ankles.
All you both cared about was the way you were wrapped around him, and the sounds that tumbled from his mouth as he got close.
It took a few more harsh bounces from you for him to unload into you. The hands on your waist held you in place as he filled you up. You purposely clenched, milking him for all he had.
“Fucking hell.”
You collapsed against his padded chest, your forehead resting against his shoulder as your breathing slowed. You turned to inhale the fresh sweat on his neck. “You need a shower.”
Logan wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tighter against him. An exhausted smirk tugging at his lips. “So do you, coach is going to be pissed if you drip cum onto his floor.”
You were still furious with him, and his stupidly hot face. You knew the fight wasn’t actually over. But, if this is what being angry with Logan brought you, then you were more than happy to pick another fight tomorrow.
☄︎ Warnings: Oral (f! receiving)
☄︎ Pairing: F!Reader x John Logan
☄︎ Rating: Mature (🔞). Smut.
☄︎ Words: 1525
☄︎ Summary: You're studying at your boyfriend's house when he decides it's time to fix a leaking pipe.
💭: my brother in CHRIST antonio cipriano is so fucking fine like wtffffff. this intially started off differently in my head but when i saw this pic i reworked it cause i am a WHORE for handy men🧍🏽♀️ xx
Original request here. 〣 Off Campus Masterlist here.〣 Logan Masterlist here.
When you woke up in the morning and headed to the hockey house, you had every intention of this being a serious study session with your boyfriend. You wanted to be overly prepared for your midterms; you didn’t need any nasty surprises coming out of it.
However, every time your mind tries to drive your attention back to the open textbook in front of you, your gaze keeps shifting lower, completely captivated by the view on the floor.
Logan is shoved halfway under the kitchen sink.
He’s wearing a fitted maroon t-shirt that spreads tightly across his shoulders every time he strains against a stubborn pipe. Whenever he lifts his arms, the shirt lifts too, exposing the patch of skin just above where his faded jeans are hugging his waist. You see the patch of hair that leads down his stomach, like an arrow directing you to look at where one of your favourite body parts of him lies.
It's really not your fault. You really did have the best study intentions.
A stray smudge of grease is smudged against his forehead. And his brown curls look messy from rubbing against the bottom of the cabinet. He holds a massive pair of pliers in one hand, propping himself up on one elbow to look up at you with a cocky grin.
“Take a picture, babe. It’ll last longer,” he teases.
You shake your head out of your daydream, pressing your thighs together and shifting in your seat.
“I might just have to,” you reply, leaning your chin on your hand. “I forgot about how handy you were.”
Logan tosses the pliers into the open, rusted red toolbox by his hip.
“Yeah, the P-trap was leaking, and Tucker was complaining about the smell. Figured I’d take care of it. Didn’t realise it would turn you on so much otherwise I’d have done it earlier.” He’s got a stupid cocky grin on his face that he totally deserves to be wearing, you’re practically drooling.
“I never said it turned me on,” you lie.
There’s just something intensely, undeniably, absolutely attractive about seeing him handle tools, the effortless confidence with which he fixes things. You start thinking about all the things in your dorm that you could break, just so you could ask him to come and fix it.
Logan slides out from under the sink, standing up to wash his hands. He turns back to you, leaning against the counter as he dries his hands on a towel.
“You didn’t have to say it.” He sets the towel down beside him. “Come here.”
He curves his index finger, gesturing you over.
“Logan, we’re in the middle of the kitchen,” you protest weakly, even as you slide off of the barstool and walk over to him. “Anyone could walk in.”
“Garrett’s out with Hannah, Tucker’s with Sabrina, and Dean is... well who knows where Dean is but it’s not here,” Logan murmurs. He hooks his fingers into the belt loops of your shorts, tugging you flush against his chest. The faint scent of motor oil and copper mixed with his clean cologne wraps around you like a vice. “We’re fine.”
Before you can argue any further, his mouth crashes into yours. It’s demanding and makes you completely forget what you were even protesting about. You whimper into his mouth, your hands instantly finding their way into his soft hair and tugging at it.
His hands slide down to rest firmly on your ass. He gives it a little squeeze before giving it a slap.
“You have no idea how hard it was to focus on that pipe with you watching me like that,” he murmurs against your lips.
You yelp as Logan’s hands cup under your ass, lifting you up to set you on the kitchen counter. He begins to trail light kisses along the inside of your knee, his hands tightening on your hips.
“Logan,” you breathe out, your head tilting back, “We really shouldn’t. Someone is going to-.”
“I told you,” he interrupts, his breath warm against your skin as he moves his path higher. “Nobody is home.”
Pulling you closer to the edge of the counter, he pulls your shorts and underwear off swifty.
You lay back, your head resting on top of the long-forgotten textbooks and other stationary.
Logan spreads your legs further, appreciating how you’re already clenching without him even really doing anything.
“Logan~,” you breathe, your hand reaching down to try and find his head so you can push him into you.
“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you.”
He lifts up your shirt, pressing a kiss to your bellybutton before kissing a slow trail down.
When you finally think he’s going to kiss you where you’re aching, he moves to your inner thigh, pressing kisses and sucking on the skin there.
“Logan~~,” you whine, louder this time. You’re becoming desperate for it.
“Say my name again,” he says against your thigh. He’s so close to where you need him, his warm breath fanning over you.
“Logan~, Logan~, Logan pleaseee,” you chant.
You bite back a moan as blows on your throbbing clit. He does that a few more times, each time leaning back to admire how your muscles contract.
Before you can beg him again, he finally takes your clit into his mouth. He’s gentle with it, giving you a soft suck before releasing it. He tongues his way down to your whole, lapping up your arousal.
“Mhmm, you taste so good, baby.” He swipes a finger up between your folds, coating his finger in your arousal. “Have a taste.”
He leans over, putting his finger in your mouth. Keeping your eyes firmly on him, you suck it into your mouth.
“See how good you taste?” He asks, his voice heavy with need.
You hum around him finger and he looks back at you with a proud look on your face.
Pulling his finger out of your mouth, he settles back between your legs. Lewd, wet, sounds fill the large room as he laps at your pussy.
Your back arches and your finders find his hair as he sucks on your clit again.
“You like that, baby?” He asks.
“Yes~ I’m dripping wet,” you respond.
Just as you start to feel the pleasure coiling, the heavy front door swings open, the sound echoing into the kitchen.
“Yo! Anyone home? I brought food.”
It’s Dean.
Panic hits you like a bucket of ice water. You try to scramble back on the counter, your face flushing a deep, vivid red.
“Logan! Move, it’s Dean!” You hiss frantically.
Instead of jumping up, Logan’s grip on your thighs only tightens. You can’t help but moan as he licks at you again.
Dean rounds the corner, a brown paper bag in one hand and half-eaten chip in the other. He stops dead, taking in the entire scene. You, breathless and dishevelled on top of the kitchen island, and Logan, face pinned between your knees.
Logan lifts his head to look at Dean, his chin and lips are glistening and there’s a line of spit connecting his lips to your pussy. You freeze, hiding your face in your hands.
Dean lets out a loud whoop!
“Well, well, well,” Dean sings, leaning casually against the wall. He casts his eyes over the tools on the floor. “I knew you were handy, Logan, but I didn’t know you offered full-service plumbing. I guess when duty calls...”
“Dean, oh my God, go away!” You squeak, face still hidden behind your hands.
“Hey, don’t mind me! You carry on.” Dean laughs, completely unbothered. “In the kitchen? Respect.”
Before Dean’s even gone, Logan face is already buried back between your legs.
“See ya later, lovebirds!” Dean struts up the stairs, leaving the two of you alone.
You bite down on your forearm as Logan sucks on your clit again.
“Don’t go quiet on me now, let him hear how wet I get you.” There’s a glint in Logan’s eye, he obviously thrives on this.
The tension leaves your shoulders as Logan works two fingers into you. His tongue presses flat against your clit as he shakes it side to side. It doesn’t take long for the pleasure to build up again, his fingers scissoring and curving inside of you.
You’re babbling now, trying to find the words to articulate what you need from him, you’re on the edge, you’re so close. But he knows what you need and with one final flick of his tongue, electricity runs through your body.
You see stars under the force of your orgasm. Your entire body jerking as you scream Logan’s name.
He holds you close until your pulse begins to slow, telling you how beautiful you look when you cum.
He slowly pulls back just enough to look at you, a smug look of satisfaction on his still shiny face. He stands up, smoothing his shirt. The evidence of his excitement is clear.
He wiggles his eyebrows at you. Just before you’re about to speak, a loud shout echoes down the stairs.
“Hell yeah, Logan. Let’s goooo!” Dean yells through his closed bedroom door.
What about one where reader has been spending a lot of time around another guy for like a project or something and Dean and Beau gets super jealous? I love jealous men 🤭
hiiiii! thank you sm for the inspiration!!
i sat down to write your request and part-way through i realised i don't think i know how to write jealousy well. so, disclaimer, we've ended up with something maybe a bit more ansty than you were looking for but it has a happyending!!
i hope you enjoy despite that. read here: Neglected
