rugby boyfriend | Logan Howlett
use your own imagination on which logan you wanted it to be
Note: Hi~ Donut here. This is a different kind of fic where earlier today I was scrolling down TikTok and came across a rugby match. Before the match starts, they were doing the Haka. So I thought to myself, Logan, a rugby boyfriend while doing the haka. I am being very mindful, but also letting my imagination run a little wild (and that’s the fun part of storytelling, aye?). I already know that Haka has deep cultural roots, display a tribe's pride, strength and unity. With that, I am approaching it with respect, and it is okay to weave it into fiction as long as it’s not mocking or misusing it.
Warning/tags: SMUT 18+, FEM!READER, unprotected piv, fingering, pet calling "doll / baby", mention of Haka
⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀➽──────────────❥⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀
Summary: Logan thought he was just joining a rugby match — big guys, big hits, no big deal. But the pre-game haka? All that chest thumping, thigh slapping, and tongue action? Let’s just say... the heat on the field wasn’t just from the sun, and Logan's definitely feeling some kind of way.
The Haka hit like thunder. You had seen it before-had watched Logan perform it countless times with that fierce, bone-deep pride…but tonight? Tonight, it felt different.
Logan stood at the front of the line, sweat already clinging to his skin, jersey taut over every hard line of his muscles. The fire in his eyes, the roar in his chest ; he didn’t just join the haka.
He became it.
His teammates stomped and shouted with him, a wall of war cries and energy. But Logan…boy, he moved like a man possessed, like a storm had crawled into his blood and begged for release. You felt your breath caught in your throat and heat pooling low in your belly as you watched him slap his chest, scream his defiance into the night sky and then -like instinct- look straight at you.
His eyes locked. Fire met fire. With just that, you knew, you were done for.
Logan wasn’t just fighting for the victory but he was fighting for you and you only.
The game started and it was violent, beautiful and gritty. Logan dominated-taking tackles like he didn’t fell any pain, moving like a beast through bodies and mud. Every time he ran, you saw the same look on his face as when he was inside you. Focused, wild and hungry and it made you ache.
By the time the game ended and Logan’s team won, you were already waiting for him near the side of the corridor. Just down the hall from the public restrooms. The area was dim, echoey and mostly empty looking. The kind of place Logan liked when he couldn’t wait ; when the need to overrode is everything else.
You then hear it, his footsteps before you saw him. Walking towards you heavy and fast as he locked eyes with you with fiery intents. He was there right infront of you now looking like he was just came back from war. Logan is still in jersey with grass stains on his knees and blood on his lips. He looks like hell.
He didn’t speak before he grabs you without any warning. One hand curled around your neck, pressing you gently but firmly against the cool wall. His other hand slipped under your shirt like he couldn’t bear another second without skin-to-skin contact. His mouth finds yours with hot, rough and needy passion. The kind of kiss that said I missed you, I need you, I’m going to fuck you right here and now.
“You watched me…” he growled, dragging his mouth down to your jaw, “standing there all soft and pretty while I tore myself open on the field.”
“I saw everything,” you whispered, eyes half-lidded. “I couldn’t breathe.”
“Good,” he muttered, dragging your pants down just enough for him to see. “Breathe through this.”
He didn’t wait.
He spun you around with one arm across your chest to hold you tight as he rutted against your ass, hips already grinding with barely restrained need. The hallway was too quiet, too exposed but neither of you cared. Logan dipped his hand between your thighs, fingers of his sliding into your wet heat and he groaned like it physically wrecked him to feel you like this.
“Fuck…you’re so soaked,” he growled. “You got like this just from watching me, didn’t you darlin’?”
You gasped while nodding as you were pressing back against his cock. “You don’t know what looked like out there…”
“Oh, I know,” he hissed, his hands down to shove his shorts down as he lines himself up. “And now I’m gonna remind you who that man belongs to.”
With a hard plunged into you, the stretch was deep and immediate as he sank into you. One hand fisting in your shirt while the other gripping your hip. He was deeply engulf with you, his grip was hard and tight as if he doesn’t want to break you if he didn’t hold back. But he didn’t, he slammed into you with full force, hips slapping skin and growling low
“Every scream, every fucking tackle…I had you in my head. Thought about bending you over right there on the damn field.” he panted out rapidly.
“F-fuck, Lo..” you choked out, your fingernails digging into the wall, body rocky with every thrusts he is giving you.
“And now you’re taking it so good for me,” he muttered, kissing the back of your neck, almost tender as if it weren’t for how hard he was driving into you. “So fucking perfect.”
Not longer after that, you came hard, biting back a cry as Logan reached around to rub you through it, whispering praise in a voice like gravel and thunder, He followed not long after, sinking his teeth gently into your shoulder as he groaned your name and came deeply inside of you, his hips finally stuttering to a stop.
Silence, broken only by you and Logan’s gasps. You stayed tangled together with Logan for a moment, before his arms wrapped tight around your waist, his breath hot against your neck. He doesn’t speak, just nuzzled closer to you, grounding you.
“You okay, doll?” he murmured eventually, lips brushing against your ear.
You turned in his arms, flushed and breathless but glowing. “Y-yeah…” you whispered. “But next time…maybe not next to the public toilets?”
Logan grinned, his cock spent and limp, “Couldn’t wait. You looked too damn good to ignore it, baby.”
“Let’s go home. We’ll relax, cuddle or bake my favourite cookie.” You said, hands caressing the side of his face, feeling the scars from the rugby field.
His kissed your forehead ; gentle “Yeah. But I’m not done with you yet.” And from the glint in his eyes, you knew exactly what he meant.