clark learning you’ve never had an orgasm with a partner would drive him slowly insane. he would absolutely still be polite and patient until you were ready to have sex with him, but before then he would be unraveling every time you let him touch a little more of your skin.
he would whisper little things like “feel good when i do this?” and let a thumb brush your clothed nipple in the middle of a makeout session. he would be studying every beat of your heart, every catch of your breath, every throb from between your legs. he would get a his thigh between yours citing how he “wants to be closer to you” but would also guide your hips to a slow grind against his thigh. when you pressed your hands against his chest and told him it was too much he always understood, pressed a kiss to your temple, and let you calm down - no matter how much he wanted to push your damp panties aside under your skirt and taste you.
one night he might linger outside of your door after you’ve said goodnight and listen to you use your little pink vibrator, whining, clutching the sheets in one hand, and gasping his name as you came. he would have to hold his briefcase in front of the tent in his slacks while riding down the elevator with your elderly neighbor taking her dog for an evening walk.
not being able to make you come himself would consume far too many of his waking thoughts. maybe you would wake up to him making breakfast in your apartment one morning. he would feed you waffles and proceed to beg to get his hand down your pants. you would choke a little on a sip of coffee, then agree. he would probably back you up against a wall after cleaning breakfast up and loading your dishwasher neatly. he would kiss you throughly, using all the tactics he had made note of since you told him your little secret.
when you asked for his shirt to come off he wouldn’t hesitate. you would get your fingers on his skin immediately. he would take another note that your pussy clenched when you ran the tips of your fingers over the little layer of fat covering his abs. he would be so gentle helping you out of your panties before being not so gentle when he pressed the pads of his fingers to your clit. there’s no way he wouldn’t revel in your little gasps as he started to make circles over the bundle of nerves. when you furrowed your brows and started to push on his chest like you had all those time before, clark wouldn’t stop. he would completely enclose your body with his against the wall and let you collapse against him while he worked you through your very first orgasm with a partner.
afterward, he would get you in the shower and somehow be convinced to let you get your hands on his massive cock.
A/N: fun fact I collect different flavored chapsticks. Just cause.
Warnings: Fluff, YEARNING, just friends but YEARNING, reader wears/ is wearing chapstick
Cinnamon...
That must be what you're wearing today.
He's staring at you from across the kitchen. You're laughing with Remy about something. Your smile brightens the entire room- your laugh, music to his ears.
He's focused on your lips
He can see the slight tint to them. In the right light, it was a little shine to your lips. Not noticeable to anyone,
Anyone that's not Logan, at least.
Despite the various smells that filled the kitchen. The bacon that sizzled in a pan, the toast that was definitely burning and Jubilee will complain about, fresh squeezed orange juice on the counter, and coffee that was made about 3 hours ago for the early birds. He still could smell you.
Specifically, your chapstick.
It's been driving him crazy since he met you. The subtle scent that clung to you that he couldn't quite figure out what it was. Every day was different; a hint of cherry, a dazzle of cream, a speckle of strawberry.
Then he spotted you one day, in the hall by the window applying a generous amount of chapstick on your lips. When he got closer, he could smell it. Smelled like honey.
You popped the lid back on the tube, sticking it into your pocket and popping your lips. The scent lingered in his nose and suddenly he wanted a taste too.
"Hey Lo, what's up?" You beamed at him, and he couldn't stop gazing at your lips. You must have thought he was a weirdo.
Since then, it's his own little guessing game. Everyday he tries to figure out what scented chapstick you were using. He had later learned from you that you like to collect all sorts of flavors, not for any particular reason, just for fun.
Some days are harder than others. Some scents are strong- he could smell them the second you enter the room. Usually the spices- Like Cinnamon. Some are faint, barely detectable unless he gets close enough. He'll use every excuse in the book to do so. Fix a strand of your hair, brush a crumb off your shoulder, whisper something funny in your ear during long, boring meetings.
He's listened to your breath hitch, and the way your heart would start to pound when he got close. Sometimes he'd linger on purpose, just to be close to you- to imagine what it'd be like to kiss you.
To taste that chapstick on your lips.
No doubt your lips would be soft, with your consistent use. He wonders what flavor would he like best on you?
The coffee? You wear that whenever you're tired. It'd taste rich, and warm, there's no bitterness to it, not like the coffee he's drinking at the moment. It'd be heavenly, but only because it's mixed with you.
Or the Strawberry Cheesecake? That one seems to be your favorite. He could only imagine the sweetness of it would match yours. Something that'd give him a toothache.
There's root beer, citrus, chocolate, skittles,
You even have cereal flavors.
Maybe he'd just have to try them all, a kiss for each, to determine what he liked best.
Who knows how many little chapsticks you have stored in your room.
"Morning Lo!" You chirped. He was so far gone thinking about all the flavors you possibly had- he didn't even notice when you joined his side.
"Morning darling." He greets, sipping his mug of coffee. He noticed a twitch of your lips, as you turned to face the counter. He watched you as grabbed a box that Ororo had bought last night filled with various mini muffins.
In the background he could hear Jubilee complaining about her burnt toast, Hank laughing at a joke Scott told him, Remy asking Rogue in yet another futile attempt. He liked the familiar chaos that being in the mansion brought. He glanced down at his coffee.
"What flavor you got on today?" He asks. "Chapstick." He adds, to clarify. It seemed like an odd question to others, but for him it's become a habit to ask you- needing to know he guessed right for the day. You never fail to answer, and he never guesses wrong.
You glanced up at him, and smiled. "Cinnamon! It's new."
He nodded, a small smirk at his correct guess. His pride then replaced by a deep ache, wondering if he'll be spending his time with you simply guessing your chapstick, wondering what it would taste like as he runs his tongue across your lips. It suddenly felt like the space between you both was never-ending- that he'd never be able to taste that Cinnamon off your lips.
"Lo-"
You drew him out his thoughts again.
"Try this."
You held a mini muffin in your held, and held it up to his lips. He obliged, parting his lips and taking a bite of the muffin you were offering. His eyes meet yours- and neither of you broke eye contact. He swallowed, licking his lips- noticing your eyes flitting down and watching.
"Good?" You asked quietly. A small grin grew on his lips, and he nodded.
Logan calling himself "old man" really gets me going, like:
"come give your old man a kiss"
"stop messing with your old man, sweetheart"
"your love being a good girl for your old man, right princess?"
A/N: The fuckinger physical reaction i had to this. I've always loved it when people wrote him referring to himself like that and idk why i never did so here's a blurb bc jesus christ
Warnings: SMUT. I use the phrases in this ask lol so give nonny that credit <3, DICK SUCKING!!!!!!! kisses, logan calls reader a good girl, reader is a little bratty but then eager to please bc who wouldn't want to be on your knees for him.
Old Man
Old man Logan x F! Reader (Blurb)
"Don't be like that"
You sat on the edge of your shared bed, had your arms crossed, lips set in a pout, eyes narrowed and staring at the wall. Away from him.
He told you no.
What it was that he told you no for, doesn't matter. Just the fact that he told you no has you pissed off and pouting like a child. It was silly- you both knew that.
but he told you no!
It's not like you ask for much. You don't ask for anything actually, never wanting to put any unneeded stress on your man.
"C'mon princess." You heard him step closer, his voice a deep rumble- it made your skin prickle and warmth pooling into your core. It was irritating how easily that man could turn you on. It was even more irritating that he likely knew that you were getting turned on too- considering he has come closer and you could feel him standing in front of you.
You did everything not to look at him because you knew if you did- you'd break. Sure, you're being petty- but you're allowed to be petty once in awhile.
"Stop messing with your old man sweetheart, look at me." His voice was husky, playful- with an edge. You refused, and you heard him huff.
His hand came to your jaw, gripping it and turning you to face him.
Immediately upon seeing his face, your cold exterior melted away. Hands fell to your side as your pout turned into something more pathetic and sad rather than anger.
"Aw baby...." He tilted his head, clicking his tongue. "I know. Another time, okay?"
His hand cradled your jaw, before moving to tip your chin up at him. "Don't you want to be a good girl for me?"
He smirked at the way your eyes twinkled at his words. Because you do, you loved being good for him, making him happy. You'd do whatever it took.
Your hands reached up to his belt, hooking your fingers around the leather and you nodded, not breaking eye contact.
"Good. Go on." He dropped his hand to his side and stood straight, allowing you to unbuckle him, unzip his jeans, and carefully pulling him out.
He was half stiff already. A few gentle strokes, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his tip. A warm chuckle escaped him, your eyes flitted up to his face.
Rare, to see the look he's giving you now. Most days Logan carries the weight of the world on his shoulders. Now he looks at you, his expression full of tenderness, his eyes were soft and understanding. It made you feel guilty that you gave him a hard time.
You'll make it up to him.
You took his tip between your lips, swirling your tongue over the head of his cock. Your eyes fell shut at the taste of him- god he always tastes so good. You hand stroked the rest of his member, using your spit that was rolling down his cock as lube. You felt him getting harder by the second.
You took him deeper into your mouth and your ears was graced by a deep moan escaping him.
"That's my girl." His voice sent shivers down your spine. You began to bob your head up and down his cock, your tongue dragging along the underside of his cock. "Yeah, there we go...You love being a good girl for your old man, don't you princess?"
You let out a moan, reverberating around his cock and he chuckled warmly again. Your panties were becoming soaked as your arousal gushes out and your core tightened at his words. Your hands moved to press against his thighs as you took him whole in your mouth- so determined to be his good girl.
His hand climbed into your hair, grabbing a fistful of it and pulled you back until you were off his cock and a string of spit kept you connected to him. Drool coated your lips and dribbled down your chin and you kept your mouth wide open for him with your tongue peaking out.
"Keep your eyes on me sweetheart." He says, and you gave him a simple nod before he shoved you back onto his cock. You gagged as he hit the back of your throat- but you didn't dare look away from him.
He set the pace, using his hand in your hair to control you, while his hips also thrusts forward gently with each time he pushed you down on him. You let him do whatever he wanted, only dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock each time he buries himself in you. You had to resist the urge from shutting your eyes, or rolling them back, he just tasted so down good. You could feel your spit dripping down your chin down your neck but you didn't care.
His hazel eyes bore down into yours. Initially he was calm, almost seemingly unaffected but now his brows were creased together and his lips pursed tightly as he focused on his cock sliding in and out of your mouth. He was getting close- your nails dug into his thighs as you prepared for his load.
A choked gasped escape him, as he shoved you all the way down on his cock until your nose melt his pelvis. His cock jumped in your mouth as you felt ropes of his cum shoot out and coat your throat.
You still didn't dare look away from his eyes- savoring the way his face became untirely undone. Face flushed, mouth open as he pants for air, eyes cloudy with lust. It wasn't till the last spurts of his essence came out that he pulled out of you. His cock hung limply between his legs.
The hand that had ahold of your hair came down to grip your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he leaned down.
"Give your old man a kiss princess."
You obliged quickly. Leaning up to meet his lips. It was messy, as he licked your chin, lips, and into your mouth and tasted himself mixed with you. It was his favorite.
He began to lean back, you quickly licked some of his cum that stained onto his lips from yours. Your arm came up to wipe away the rest of mess that was on your face and neck and looked up at him.
"Feel better?" He asks. You bit your lip, trying not to smile so widely, and nodded, your hands reaching out to tuck him back inside his jeans and buckle him up again. "That's my girl." He smiled proudly.
You stood up, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his nose. Your voice a bit raspy from your throat being used, but your tone was teasing. "Anything for you, old man."
warnings: MDNI (+18), smut, porn with a bit of plot, student-professor relationship dynamics, power relationship, age gap, afab reader, pet names, piv, cockwarming, no use of protection, pulling out, dirty talk, praise too)?
a/n : it's been a long time, i know, prof!lo has just been on my mind 24/7 i needed to do something about it, idk what to think about this, it's purely filth so........ also this pic of hugh????🫠 yall can imagine the logan you want for this one 𖹭 hope you enjoy it
When you entered university, the subjects were somewhat difficult, but you managed them. The first semester was fine, without too many problems, and even good grades. You were good at what you did, earning the occasional compliment from professors for your good performance.
But, when your parents were unable to pay your college tuition, things got complicated, forcing you to get a job if you wanted to keep studying. You had to divide your time, one day working, another studying, other days half work and half study.
This routine began to affect you, the subjects became somewhat difficult each time, meaning that you had to pay more attention, more time that you didn't have. Your concentration was zero, every time you tried to sit down to study you found yourself unable to do so.
and worse? You had started failing in a particular class, mostly the most unbearable and hated one; History. It was a heavy class, boring. You yawned every two minutes at the matters discussed in the two weekly hours.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ *.✧∘˚˳°
At this particular hour You held his cheek against your elbow, resting on the table, looking in a boring way at the professor, you sigh. Your gaze slid towards his arms while you didn't listen to his senseless words, Mr. Howlett was never an ugly guy. In fact, he's Quite the opposite; Handsome, Tall, smart, nice hair, flattering glasses and an athlete's body. Every girl's dream.
That white shirt folded up to his forearms really pleased your sight. You could feel the heat rising from your neck to his ears as your mind plotted all the things professor logan could do with those arms, or the things he could do with his big hands, even the things that mouth — besides not stopping talking about history — gives fantastic kisses, capable of making some legs tremble.
Your eyes went further down, meeting with his jeans and his somewhat extravagant leather belt. You could notice how big his legs were, even though he was already big, those jeans just flattered him, you also found a normal bulge that any man has. And there you question about it, How big is it? I'm sure it's bigger when it gets hard, is it thick? Oh god. Why are you thinking about this?
you licked your lips, closing your eyes before going back to his boring lecture. He's too handsome to be talking about boring matters, even though it makes him hotter. This was the real reason for your bad grades, being distracted on the clouds thinking about Mr. howlett. You could feel something heavy in you, which led you to look at him, meeting his gaze, speaking while he didn't take his eyes off yours. Your cheeks burn and you decide to break the totally awkward exchange.
“read the entire unit for next class.” He said, ending the class. As soon as the hour was up, you rushed to try to escape, quickly putting away your notebook, your pencil case and water too, you put on your backpack, feeling a little relieved to finally be free, everyone was doing the same thing as you, others already leaving.
You put on your backpack, Now calm down, you had to worry about other things now, but surviving this class was the goal of your day. You were getting closer and closer to the desired classroom door. There weren't many people, just a few girls along with boys leaving, including the professor who hadn't left yet, who was sitting at his desk, reading some papers that were displaced on his desk.
you reached for the door, almost feeling free but a deep, masculine voice stopped you in your tracks.
“Hey, Miss, I have to talk to you about some things. don't leave yet.” Logan said, looking towards your back.
‘Fuck’ You whispered, slowly turning around and walking towards his desk, watching the other students leave, achieving your desired freedom.
“I wanted to know if you are aware of your grades.” He says, looking at you with those hazel green eyes, your pulse drummed on your chest at the mention of your grades.
“u-uh.. yeah, I know I'm not doing too well in this subject..” You looked away, avoiding his gaze, respectfully.
“That is true, You also have work to hand in, this is the second one you haven't given to me.” His voice makes you shiver, and nervousness begins to take hold of you. “Is there any reason for that?”
The awkwardness in the room was more than palpable, You swallow dryly.
“I started working full time, paying for college is becoming a little difficult for me.” you say, being honest with him and your situation.
He nodded slowly, hearing you sincerely. You were afraid of what he was going to say next, the silence made you more anxious.
“Your situation is not really an excuse,” He says, leaning back, his voice is firm but not cruel
“but… I can't not give you a chance when life kicks you in the ass.” He says, his face serious, grabbing a pen.
“I'll make time, come to see me tomorrow.” He writes something on a piece of paper on his desk.
“I'll tutor you.”
Your cheeks turned red, “R-really?..” That was too fast, Since when is he so considerate?
“Don't make me repeat myself, Miss.”
His voice echoed in your ears, almost leaving you dumbfounded. you hum softly.
“Goodbye, Mr Howlett, thank you.” you mutter, Giving him a little smile before starting to walk away from the classroom, sighing when you finally step out of it.
These are going to be long private classes.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ*.∘˚˳°
After 4 tutoring classes, your grades got slightly better. Mr Howlett was more than a good teacher, you handed in the work you were missing and he was patient enough for you, explaining everything slowly and easier.
Now you're 10 minutes late to his tutoring class. With nervousness you knock the door twice, You don't think he'll have mercy on you this time. Your sweaty hands grabbed the knob and entered the office. The only light was a lamp that he kept on his desk, illuminating the desk with a warm tone.
“You're late.” Logan was eyeing some history book, with the glasses fitted on the bridge of his nose and shirt sleeves rolled up. The room seems to get smaller as you walk towards the chair, sitting in front of him.
“I'm sorry.. I came straight from work.” You say, opening your backpack, Swallowing saliva. The cold wood chilled your thighs, making you shiver a little.
“Open to page 203.” His voice deep, His hands Reached slowly to close the book he was reading, with his attention fully on you now, he places it beneath a little drawer on the desk.
His orders were simple and concise, in a tone that brooks no resistance.
You tried to concentrate, you really tried, but his fingers brushed against the paper, the watch on his wrist ticking away at the minutes, like a countdown. Your body was tense without any logical reason.
Well, deep in you, you knew why, and who was making you this way.
“What does Marx mean by class struggle?” He asks, looking at the text.
You stayed silent, you didn't even read the first paragraph.
“Well?” His voice raised a little, almost demanding. “You didn't read it, did you?” His brow furrowed.
“I–I'm trying. I swear.. I just…”
The silence felt like a slap in the face, and for a moment the weight of the room was heavier. Logan slammed the book down on the desk, making you jump slightly. His eyes stare into yours.
“you said you wanted my help, you wanted to pass.” His hands kept on the book.
“I do.. I really do.” You start, trying to convince him, you didn't want to fail his subject.
“Then why don't you commit to this?”
“I have too many things in my mind, work.. other subjects” You explain, sighing, avoiding his eye contact now.
“And isn't history a subject you have to commit to as well?” He kept going, every time more intense.
You are feeling so frustrated now, almost wanting to cry for the raising of his voice, and how angry he seemed to be at you. Logan lays back on his chair, sighing deeply. His hand taking off his glasses and letting them fall on the wooden desk.
After a while he speaks again, rejoining again. “We'll try something new.” Something dirty in his tone that made you tremble slightly.
“Get up.” He says, although he's more calm down, the annoyance doesn't let go of him yet.
And you did.
“desk.”
“What?” your brow furrowed, looking at him.
“Up. On. The. Desk.” His raspy voice quickened your pulse again, and you could see him move his chair aside, making room for you. You obey with a blush on your face. Then he gets closer, His big hands explore, starting to caress your waist.
“Mr. Howlett–” Your voice sounds quite breathy, but not doing anything to pull away. as the touches begin to heat up everything, his fingers unbutton your pants. He didn't say a word until he left you in your underwear.
“you better try.”
You hate that this situation makes you wet.
Without much ceremony, he sat you on his lap, it was a situation worse than embarrassing, and it is worse that you let him do it. His warm hand never left your waist, keeping you in place. You listen to his belt clicking behind you, it is going to happen.
Silently he accommodates you slowly. His cock, as far as you could see, was big and thick, almost like in your imagination.
“Sit, take it all the way down.” He whispered in your ear.
You swallow. Your legs were shaking as you settled on top of him, your knees on the sides of the chair, next to his thighs. You felt his tip gently brush against you, making you shudder.
“L-logan..” You bite your lower lip, his hands wrapped around your waist, caressing the skin softly.
“Shh.. not a word. Sit.” He guides you again, his tone more gentle.
You slowly sat up, feeling him fill you inch by inch. It was difficult not to moan when he was all the way in. you could feel how thick he was, opening you up mercilessly. you were already getting agitated and unconsciously, your hips moved by reflex but his hand kept you still.
“No.” His voice firm as his hand.
“You're going to stay still.”
“But, Logan–”
“No, you listen to me.” He says, squeezing your hip roughly. “You're going to stay here, quiet, paying attention and reading out loud.”
He leaned forward onto the desk, his chest pressed against your back. His hands left your hips, grabbing the book he had left on the table. not taking you off him, as if he weren't hard inside you. As if you weren't dripping wet, pulsing around him.
“start with paragraph two.”
You bit your lip, your voice only managed to come out shaky. “S–social classes… for m-marxism are defined by the relations o-of…production, that is—”
“Slower.” He whispered in your ear.
You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to concentrate with all your might. But he was still there, inside, hard and heavy. every inch of him makes it difficult to think straight.
“Do you want to pass this class, Miss?” His gruff voice almost made you melt around him.
“I do.” You mutter.
“Then show me.”
You tried to move your hips again, only to be stopped by him again. “Did I say you could move?”
“N-no..” You whisper, already feeling frustrated.
“Exactly.” He kept you steady on his cock, not letting you move, not even squirm on him.
So you keep going, Reading slowly and out loud, with a broken voice, your nipples aching beneath your shirt and his cock throbbing inside of you. It takes you a few minutes more than normal to finish one. single. paragraph. it's pure torture .
“It wasn't that hard, wasn't it?” He whispers. “See? you just needed a little motivation.”
His hand goes a little lower, finding your puffy clit His thick fingers starting to rub it gently, You tremble, letting out a breathy moan. “L-logan..” Your eyes go shut, enjoying the stimulation he was giving you, your hips move towards his hand, and it pulls away quickly just as it began.
“concentrate.” He says as you whine.
You sigh, hating his teasing and how wet it makes you when he toys with you. His hands go to your hips, caressing you softly, almost soothingly for being so cruel with you. you start a new paragraph, only to be cut off a few lines later by him.
“Then what will be the goal of the revolution?” He whispered, his nose buried on your neck.
“T–the revolution will aim to achieve a perfect society where there is neither ... .exploiters nor exploited…” You answered correctly, making him smirk.
“That's my good girl. that's what you needed, hmm?” He praised you, feeling you clench around him when he said a pet name to your ear.
“Just one more paragraph, angel.” He whispered, his hands Going up to your boobs, squeezing them gently underneath your shirt. You started reading it, still somewhat stumbling and shaky, but faster than before.
Reading the last sentence, you simply relax against him, biting your lower lip. “G-god..”
“You're tired already?” He whispered. “Just a short page, I still have many more things to explain to you..” you whine in response, completely refused to read more with this torture. “I didn't say we're finished.”
“No please.. i-i can't do this anymore” You moan breathly.
“you're such a needy thing.” He groaned, feeling how you squeeze him again. “cant even fucking read something and staying obedient.” His hand finds your clit again, toying with it gently, Your hips move, rubbing yourself against his calloused fingers.
You whimper, bouncing softly on his thick cock, His groans just makes you wetter, the tip brushes that sweet spot that makes you fold every time. But as quickly as it started, you started to get tired within minutes.
“Now what, bunny? Have you sung yet?” He huffs.
With a little force, he gets up from the chair, without leaving you yet, pressing you down onto the cold desk. You moaned, arching your back.
“You're going to take it now, I've been wanting this since I saw you looking at me with those eyes in class, don't think I didn't notice.” He mutters as he slowly starts to move, slowly getting in and out, The sound of skins clashing, your low moans and Logan's grunts provided the soundtrack for the moment.
“Are you like this with all the teachers? huh?”
“Answer when I talk to you.” He says, Expecting an answer, You were too caught up in the moment, too dumb to think straight.
“No! fuck.. I-i'm sorry..” You whisper, closing your eyes.
Your knuckles turned white as you held on to the desk, your cheek pressed against the wood. Logan's pace was brutal now, dragging moans from your lips with each thrust, his hips slamming into you with growing urgency.
“Dirty girl, feel what you do to me.”
Your walls clench around him as he talks to you, you only nodding, your legs tremble, His hand reaches around to rub your clit again, this time without mercy. Fast. Intentional.
"Logan..please! 'm close, I need—”
"Then come," he growled, slamming into you. "Show me how much you've learned, angel. fuck come on”
That was all it took. Your body trembled with the intensity of your climax, clenching around him so tight he groaned your name, fucking you through it.
“Fuck–baby…” He groaned, almost losing it as it came out of you, without wasting time it began to stroke himself. hot, white spurts of cum spilled over on your back. warm and messy as he groaned deep and low, collapsing forward, panting against your shoulder.
A beat of silence. Just you and him, both tired.
“Read everything for the next lesson.” He said breathlessly.
thinking about being professor!logan's pretty little secret ୨୧
stealing glances at him during your lessons and counting down the seconds until he can have you laid flat on his desk.
giggling and flushing every time he meets your eye, your heart rate picking up when you remember that no one else knows why.
squirming in his lap trying to keep busy while he finishes grading assignments, leaving kisses up and down his neck.
listening to the other girls talk about their schoolgirl crushes on him with the satisfaction of knowing he's yours.
meeting after classes, during breaks, and late at night, anywhere you possibly can.
being friends with rogue, feeling guilty that you keep this secret from her, knowing how close they are, but still continuing to meet up with him behind her back.
the rush of being his little secret.
guys pls be nice </3 i fear this isn't that good, but i haven't written for him since last summer. the hyperfixation is coming back.
LOVEEE ur Logan fics 🤤🤤 the shooting one was SOOO GOODDD only thing, & I’m sorry I don’t mean to be an annoying bitch ik you probably don’t care and it’s accurate enough but bc ur using shotgun shells you wouldn’t use the term bullets! Shotgun shells are full of tiny bbs that splay out once they’re fired, and where you used the term “lever” it could be synonymous with“action” so when the shotgun in this case is open (bc they’re using a double barrel over-under) he’d be like “Okay, now open the action” OKAY THATS IT FEEL FREE TO TELL ME OFF I JUST WANTED TO KEEP U IN THE KNOW IDK HOW PRECISE U WANTED IT I LOVE UR WRITING BYE
you're not annoying! thank you for pointing it outtt, i will correct those things, it's something that contributes a lot, thanks again <33
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