𝓈𝓎𝓃ℴ𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈 ⋮ yearning!peter parker who learns to love and trust again.
TAGS ⋮ f reader ֢ fluff ֢ friends to lovers !!
𝑴.𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻
𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒 ： 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑓𝑓
it was fall of his freshman year of college when peter parker felt a change in his life.
after he lost everything, he had been down for so long. he didn’t want to label it as depressed, he tried to stay positive for aunt may. but every day he wondered why.
until he met you.
you were studying a different major then him, but you both shared the same minor. it was until the first time he came late to a lecture that he noticed you.
after getting frowned upon by the professor, the only seat that was available was next to you.
you could tell by the look on his face that it was a rough morning, so you shared your coffee roll with him.
that was the start of something new.
peter felt like a helpless fourteen year old again. he actually tried to look nice just to see you.
you didn’t expect honesty, or timely fashion, all you wanted was someone to talk too.
you didn’t talk much, either. but peter didn’t mind, he actually found you even more fascinating for that. and he was happy when you finally spoke more to him.
and he was absolutely smitten.
he didnt know what he felt about mj anymore, but slowly that didn’t matter when you came.
when you figured out he was spiderman, he panicked, having the fear that everything that happened last year would happen again.
but you assured him that it was different this time, and if push comes to shove you would believe him.
“professor smith is so annoying! he always has something to say just to target me.” he said, currently he was in your dorm studying for semester finals.
you chuckled, throwing a paper ball at him.
“hey! what was that for?” he said.
“you needed to be knocked out of your anger.” you said softly, shutting your laptop after finishing your essay.
“how do you finish so easily?!” he said in shock.
you shrugged, then laid down on your bed. letting out a sigh you scroll on your phone.
peter looks up at you, admiring your features. he eventually looks away realizing he was being creepy. but he couldn’t help it.
he webs your phone out your hands to catch your attention.
“why are you always on your phone when your not studying?”
“i have so much hobbies my screen time is usually low.” you say.
“yeah but still, why be on your phone when im here.” peter says with a cocky tone.
“because your not entertaining.” you say.
“do i have to be entertaining for you to like me?” he says.
“i already do like you.” you say, the words coming up like vomit.
“what?” he says, face immediately heating up.
“what?” you mock him, hiding your flustered expression you throw your pillow at him.
“hey!” he laughs, then webbing you off your bed right on top him.
once your stable your lips crash together, peter felt a spark that he hadn’t felt in forever.
pulling away you look at him, chuckling at his flustered expression
“so you like me back?”
“isn’t it obvious..” he says shyly, making you pecker him in more kisses
ˊ ꪆৎ ݁ 𝓪uthor 𝓷ote ⦂ brand new days trailer is SOSO good !!! i can’t wait ꉂ(˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵)
☄︎ 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.
