Request: nope
Pairing: logan howlett x reader
Summary: based on this post by @sarahsmi13s
Warnings: nothing but tooth rotting fluff ugh I love logan
Word count: 1K
A/N: this post… yes.. also logan deserves some soft love <3 enjoy!
slow, domestic mornings with logan are few and far in between. it’s why you cherish every one you get.
life in the mansion is hectic, to say the least. even if you would take away everyone’s mutant abilities, there’s still a couple of dozen kids with a lot of energy swarming the place.
but you wouldn’t have it any other way. you’d been one of those kids once. unsure of your place in the world, scared, not knowing who you could trust.
like many young mutants, you caused chaos and pain when your mutation manifested. your own parents were afraid of you. and then the professor showed up at your house and told you about his school.
you’ve spent many years here now, teaching the children while also being a member of the x-men. you finally have a place where you belong, where you feel safe and at home. where you have friends and family who care about you.
meeting logan was only the cherry on top.
from the moment you met him, you’d been curious about him. one day you were teaching your class as usual, the next moment there was a guy with anger issues and adamantium claws in your classroom.
at first you were stunned, as were the students, but you introduced yourself and told him to take a seat once he explained the professor thought it was a good idea for him to know what life at the mansion would be like.
ever since, he’s been sitting in on a lot of your classes. you thought it was because he was interested in the topics, but later on he confided in you that your voice and presence soothe him.
after that conversation, logan was around you often. to learn about the mansion, he said, but you knew better.
the more time you spent with him, it became obvious he came to you when he needed to calm down. he didn’t need you to talk to him, just needed to be near you.
sometimes you would talk. it was mostly you who did the talking, though. you told him about your childhood, how you met the professor, your time at the mansion as a kid, teasing scott about jean when you were a teenager. and then you told him about the missions you went on with your fellow x-men, the classes you taught the children, how they continued to surprise you every day.
and slowly, as logan started to trust you more, he told you about his life. what it was like years ago, what he went through. you wanted logan to open up to you on his own, but you couldn’t deny you were curious about him and his life. sometimes you couldn’t help it.
you were cradling one of his hands, taking a closer look at his knuckles as you sat on the edge of your desk. the classroom was empty, the students long gone. but logan was still there
you feel logan’s gaze on you, but you continue to study his hand. turning his hand over in yours, examining it.
‘you really can just get them out whenever you want?’ you ask him.
‘yeah.’ says logan.
‘can I see them?’
logan briefly hesitates. no one’s ever asked him that. most people who have seen his claws up close didn’t live to tell the story. but you’re being so gentle with him, he does as you ask.
you drop your hands as he pulls his arm away slightly. then he slowly lets his claws come out. you watch as the skin between his knuckles splits as the adamantium blades slice through.
you briefly look up to logan and notice how he clenches his jaw slightly.
‘does it hurt?’ you ask him. ‘when they come out?’
logan looks down at you. at this fellow x-men, a teacher, a lover. no one has ever been this patient and gentle and loving with him.
‘every time.’ he says, looking at the way you’re holding his hand.
it had been a long time since logan had slept in his own room. what few belongings he had, he added to your room. but because the mansion life was a busy life, you rarely get to enjoy each other’s presence like this.
logan is still asleep. his breath tickles the back of your neck. one of his arms is lazily swung over your body, the other beneath your head. you love waking up like this, safe in his embrace.
you reach out and softly run your fingers over his knuckles. it’s remarkable how fast his skin heals.
your touch wakes logan, who stirs behind you. now that he’s awake, you turn around in his arms so you can bury your face in his neck. logan pulls you closer, wanting to go back to sleep.
he feels how you take a hold of his hand and move it. then he feels something on his knuckles. he opens his eyes and sees you pressing soft kisses to the skin between his knuckles, right where the tips of his claws rest beneath his skin.
logan has never been the romantic type. but he swears he feels his heart burst with the amount of love he feels for you. you’ve kissed him before, obviously. but not like this, not on his knuckles.
‘what are you doing?’ he asks, voice still laced with sleep.
you briefly look up at him before you move to get a hold of his other hand, bringing it up to your lips.
‘you said it hurts every time they come out.’ you explain. ‘I’m kissing it better.’
logan’s lips part in surprise, before smiling at you.
‘you’re gonna do this every time they come out?’ he says.
you nod. ‘yes. you said it hurts every time. so I’ll kiss it better every time.’
‘you’ll be busy for the rest of your life, then.’
‘that’s okay. I don’t plan on going anywhere.’
logan leans in and presses a soft kiss against your lips. with his forehead against yours, he drifts off to sleep again. feeling the occasional kiss against his knuckles.
A/N:
thanks for reading! everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist.
please do not copy, translate, plagiarise or repost my work! some of these are requested by other people and I spend a lot of time and effort on my works <3
much love,
marit
Warnings: smut, public/semi-public sex, overstimulation, i know nothing about motorcycles, Logan picks up the reader but he’s a mutant and is superhumanly strong so like… he could pick you up babe, pet names (baby), somewhat dom!Logan but that’s not explicit he’s just bossy, no use of y/n. WC: 1.2k
A/N: This is based on a dream I had because, yes, the brainrot is that bad. Thanks to @pr0ximamidnight for the encouragement to write it and the advice along the way.. And thanks to @just-here-for-the-moment for the beta <3. This is my first ever Logan fic and my first ever non-pedro boy fic as well, so forgive me if it’s OOC or weird.
Logan Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi
Logan is teaching you to ride a motorcycle. You’ve always been fascinated by them, but the sight of him straddling one really sealed the deal. He looks gorgeous, powerful thighs astride the gently roaring machine. He leans back, gesturing for you to climb on in front of him.
You throw your leg over carefully and settle onto the bike. His thighs bracket yours and his chest is pressed snugly against your back. It’s already getting dark out, and you’d be worried about driving at night if it wasn’t for the reassuring weight of him behind you. He slides his hands down from your shoulders to your hands and gently places them on the handle bars.
“I’ll take care of shifting the gears this time, you just focus on the throttle.” You’re not sure you can focus on anything with him this close, but you nod anyway.
He kicks up the kickstand and starts walking the bike backward onto the road. You hold on for dear life. He shifts the gears as he helps you turn the throttle. You’re nervous as hell, but he keeps a steady grip on your hands. You start to settle into the feeling of driving and your mind drifts. You think about his body pressed against yours, about the steady vibration of the motor between your legs, and you start squirming.
It’s dark out and you can barely see a thing outside of the range of the headlight. But you feel everything, almost as if your senses are heightened. You grind against his erection, inadvertently pressing your clit harder against the seat and you whimper.
“Pull over,” he growls in your ear.
You nod, his nose brushing your neck, and slow down. You guide the bike into a seemingly abandoned parking lot. Logan turns the bike off and drops the kickstand. He pulls you tight against his body.
“Are you gonna let me fuck you right here? Out in the open?”
“Please,” you whine.
“Lean forward,” he commands, his voice so low you barely hear him.
You lean forward, lifting your hips. You hear him unsheathe a claw and you tense slightly. He carefully slices a hole in your leggings and panties, exposing you to the night air.
“I liked these, Logan.”
“I’ll buy you more.” That’s all the warning you get before he sheathes his claw and buries two fingers inside you.
You cry out, gripping the handlebars hard. He steadies you with a gentle grip on your waist while he fucks his fingers in and out of you, You’re soaking wet and already desperate, grinding down on his fingers. His hand on your waist slips down and finds your bundle of nerves. Your left hand drops from the handlebars to grip his wrist as his fingers circle your clit. Your fingernails dig in hard enough to leave marks on anyone but him and your cunt pulses around his thick digits. He hits the spongy part deep inside you, making you shake and whine as you come on his fingers.
While you catch your breath, Logan unzips his jeans. He grips your waist in his huge hands and lifts you with his superhuman strength, easily spearing you on his cock. Even with the preparation, he stretches you almost painfully. Your hands search for something, anything, to hold on to and land on the handlebars again. After giving you a moment to adjust, he starts bouncing you on his cock. You moan loudly and his grip on you tightens.
“Feel good, baby? Filthy thing, riding me out in the open like this.”
You aren’t capable of speaking, not with his cock hitting you so deep inside. You’re not really riding him so much as he’s using you like a fleshlight. Your eyes roll back into your head as you come on his cock. He doesn’t stop bouncing you until your cunt stops clenching around him. His hand presses firmly in the middle of your back, pushing you forward until your head is past the handlebars.
“Give me one more,” he orders. “Not done with you yet.”
You’re powerless to deny him, and really you’d give him anything he asked for. He wraps one arm around your waist and brings the other hand to your clit again. He pounds up into you, setting a brutal rhythm and hitting a spot that makes your vision white out. You cling to the handlebars for stability, crying out as his tip hits your cervix. You tense up in his arms, whole body going taut with ecstasy.
“That’s it baby, come for me,” he growls.
The rolling waves of pleasure feel endless, still speared on Logan’s cock as he fucks into your clenching pussy. His grip on you tightens impossibly, bruisingly as he floods your cunt with his cum. You cry out, writhing in his arms. When you finally come down, Logan’s strong arms pull you back against his chest. Your head lolls back onto his shoulder.
“Are you okay, baby?” Logan’s voice is tinged with worry.
You nod weakly and mumble a yes into the chilled air.
“Did I hurt you?”
“Mm mm,” you slowly shake your head from side to side. He didn’t hurt you, you’re just completely overwhelmed.
He gently lifts you off his slowly softening cock, keeping an arm around you as he tucks himself away. He holds you tight against him until you eventually come back down to earth. You press a chaste kiss to his neck and nuzzle against him a bit before sitting up. You grip the handlebars again and wince as your oversensitive clit presses into the seat.
“You sure you’re alright?” Logan asks, lifting the kickstand and starting the bike up.
You whimper as the vibrations of the motor course through your body but bite your lip and nod.
“Hang on tight, baby. I’ll get us home.” You can almost hear Logan’s smirk.
Again nestled between Logan’s thick thighs and pressed firmly against his broad chest, but now with your bare cunt pressed into the seat of the bike, the ride home is absolute, exquisite torture. You can feel his cum leaking out of you, making a mess of what remains of your leggings and the seat beneath you. You’re shaking by the time you make it back to your apartment.
Logan parks the bike and shuts it off. He climbs off and helps you to your feet. You stumble a little but manage to stay upright with his help, giggling to yourself at your jello legs. You unlock the door of your apartment and you’ve barely stepped inside before Logan sweeps you off your feet.
“I can walk, Logan. Seriously, I’m fine.”
He huffs and carries you to the bedroom. “I know, but I want to take care of you.”
He lays you gently on the bed, unlaces and removes your boots, and strips off your ruined leggings. Left only in a t-shirt, you watch him methodically remove his clothing and admire his thickly muscled torso. The smattering of hair on his broad chest glinting silver in the moonlight – he’s so perfectly gorgeous you can hardly stand it.
He crawls into bed beside you and pulls you against his chest. He grabs your thigh and pulls it across his body so that you’re nearly laying on top of him. He presses a kiss to the top of your head and you fall asleep in his arms, wondering if he’ll make you clean the bike seat tomorrow.
do u ever think about Logan’s arms bc they’re on my mind 24/7 tbh
oh obviously
i don't think logan is a stranger to people checking him out on the street- especially when it comes to his arms- but when he catches you noticing for the first time? I just know he would be so goddamn cocky.
you'd be running your hands up an down his arms, tracing his veins and the dips of his muscles while kissing. when he notices, logan would pull back, get that smirk on his face (you know the one: like when he was taunting jean and scott in X1) and just be like: "like what you see, sweetheart?"
i also know he would get such a kick out of teasing his partner. sometimes he wouldn't notice, like when the two of you are laying in bed in the morning, just talking while you bask in the morning sun coming through the windows. logan would have his head propped up in his hand, listening to you talk and then notice how you slowly began tracing his arms, losing your train of thought. he'd be too tired to taunt you over it but he'd make sure to hold the position long after his arm got tired.
other times, he would purposefully show off his arms to mess with your head. logan would walk around your room in the morning in just his tight tank top, brushing his teeth as if he wasn't specifically trying to get a rise out of you. when they were making new x-men uniforms, he made sure that his was short sleeve because long before you two started dating he could distinctly remember hearing your breath catch in your throat when you saw his arms for the first time.
"are you trying to get me killed, logan?"
"why's that sweetheart?"
and you'd just get flustered because you are NOT going to admit that you're distracted by his arms of all things.
anyway the point is yes, i do think about logan's arms and i could go on all day. i mean. c'mon.
The one where Logan is so crazy to make sure that everyone knows you’re his, that he fucks you in front of everyone.
Warnings: possessiveness, public sex, exhibitionism kink, humiliation kink (reader likes being called a whore), daddy kink, choking kink
A/N: Kinktober day 18, the prompts were exhibitionism/public sex and choking kink. This is so short it’s almost kind of a drabble? I just really thought it was best to keep it this way.
I should have known this was going to happen sooner or later. Patience had never been something that the great Wolverine possessed, and despite how much he truly loved me, he just couldn’t manage to learn it.
Perhaps it was precisely because of how much he loved me, though. He couldn’t stand the silly jokes that Scott and the others made about my body and how lucky he was. Even though I didn’t mind. Even though I knew they were joking.
It didn’t matter to him, though. All he could understand was that someone wanted what was his, and I was his. It was finally time to show them just so - and I was sure that the sight of all of his nine inches buried deep inside of me would hardly be forgotten by any of the boys who had ventured on this camping trip with us.
“C’mon, princess. Show them how much of a good girl you are for me.” His hand sprawled over my naked ass cheek after he slapped it, making me gasp and quicken the movements with which I was riding him by the bonfire. The light casted the most beautiful orange glow on my boyfriend, and even if I didn’t know that looking away from him was signing the death warrant for the men around us, I would have kept looking at his handsome face, staring back at me with those proud eyes.
“Tell them, sweetheart. Tell them just how much of a whore you are for me.” His words were pure sin to my ears, prompting new waves of wetness to ease the stretch of him inside of my pussy.
“I-I am your whore, daddy. Only yours.” The proud smile he gave me was enough to make me swoon for him, and the bastard knew just how it affected me, since it quickly morphed into a smirk.
“Tell them just how much you like to suck my cock, baby.” I groaned just from the thought. I loved having Logan in my mouth, forcing my mouth open as far as it could go. I still hadn’t been able to fit all of it inside of me, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. I let him facefuck me literally anywhere and anytime he wanted to. It was a miracle we hadn’t been caught yet.
“I love it. It makes me so fucking wet to have your huge cock in my mouth.” I heard the gasps around me at the fact that I’d cursed, but I could barely pay attention to anything other than Logan’s hands roaming around my body, at last taking off my shirt and bra, so that my breasts could bounce freely. Then, after playing with my nipples for a bit, he trailed one of his hands up my body to curl around my neck, making me instantly clench my pussy around him.
“You look so good with my hand wrapped around your throat, pretty girl. And you love it, don’t you? You clench me so tight, makes me think you want my cum deep inside of you.” That was his signal that he wanted me to start begging, and honestly, everytime Logan brought me to the edge with him, it was precisely when I lost any inhibition, and started to honestly speak all of the filth that’s usually floating in my mind whenever we’re around each other.
“T-that’s exactly what I want, daddy. Please, cum deep inside my pussy. Make sure everyone here knows that you own me, that you ruined me for everyone else. I love feeling your cum dripping from me, daddy.” All around us, the sounds of distant fapping and curses signaled that the men accompanying us had been jacking off to the sight of the live porn taking action before their eyes, but the only thing that mattered to me was Logan and the way he stretched his pretty neck when he threw his head back as his release neared, the hands on my hips taking control of my motions until he was the one fucking me on his dick.
Suddenly, he opened his eyes just enough to connect them with mine, the lust and the order clear in the dim light of the bonfire, and I succumbed to my pleasure just as he did, never one to disobey my man. Specially when what he wanted was for me to cum around him, milking him dry.
Summary: Logan wakes you up the morning after your motorcycle excursion OR Logan fucks you soft and sweet because you’re still sore.
Warnings: smut! Somnophilia, morning sex, soft and sweet this time, mostly, pet names, no use of y/n, mostly Logan POV so there’s the barest hint of angst related to him not aging and tragically losing everyone he loves, part 2 of Handlebars but can be read standalone, Logan can pick you up because he has mutant strength <3 WC: 1.1k
A/N: I couldn’t stop thinking about the morning after you get railed on the motorcycle and the contrast of how Logan would treat you. So here’s that. Thanks to @pedgito and @pr0ximamidnight for the read throughs <3
Logan Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi
Logan wakes to early morning sunlight streaming through your gauzy curtains and you wrapped around him like a koala. He looks down at your peaceful face, nestled comfortably against his chest. He wants nothing more than to make you happy, all the time, in whatever way he can. You’re precious to him. He’s lost everyone he’s ever loved, knows he will lose you too. He’ll savor this while he can, make you feel good while he can.
He carefully extricates himself from your grip, settling himself between your thighs. You’re still bare after last night, your shirt lost somewhere over the edge of the bed.
Your pussy is still a little swollen, probably sore after he made you come so many times. He gently licks a stripe through your center and you whimper in your sleep. You unconsciously try to close your legs, but he’s got them spread open on his broad shoulders. He licks you again, adding a little more pressure to your clit. Your hands search for him, one burying itself in his hair and the other grasping at his arm. He buries his tongue inside you, licking up your slick, before flattening his tongue against your slit.
You wake up with a sleepy little moan, the sound going straight to his dick.
“Logan?”
He presses a kiss to your mound before answering. “Yeah, baby?”
“Please don’t stop.” Your voice is airy and desperate.
He looks up at you, all sleep mussed hair and bleary eyes and absolute perfection. “Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.”
Logan licks you in earnest now, drawing circles on your clit with his tongue. He pushes one finger into your entrance and you whine. He pulls back, looking up at you with a crease in his brow.
“Still sore. But don’t stop… please,” you gasp. He’ll stop if he thinks he’s hurting you, and you cannot have that.
He presses his finger the rest of the way inside you, curling it upward into your sweet spot and massaging you there. His tongue on your clit is relentless and you feel your orgasm bubbling up. You bury both hands in his hair and grind your hips against his face. Logan loves how lost you get in him, giving yourself entirely over to him so that he can make you feel good. He adds another finger, stretching your walls around his thick digits.
You’re shuddering against him almost instantly, walls clenching around his finger. Your soft moans spur him on and he licks you through your high, until you’re pushing him away, oversensitive. He sits up on his knees and looks down at you, fucked out and smiling blissfully.
“Come here,” you whine.
And he’s powerless to resist. He crawls up your body, lips dragging from mound to navel to each of your breasts. He presses another kiss to your throat before finally landing at your lips. You kiss him deeply, tongues brushing against each other. The heady taste of your own arousal on his tongue makes you whine into his mouth.
He notches the head of his cock at your entrance. You squirm beneath him, trying to take him in deeper.
“Careful, baby. You’re still sore,” he mutters against your lips.
“Not that sore. Fuck me, Logan.”
Again, powerless to resist anything you ask for, he pushes in until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. Your fingernails drag down his back, leaving bright red trails that heal almost immediately. He drops his forehead to yours, your breath comingling with his in the scant space between your lips. You both savor the feeling of him inside you, two halves of a whole forming into one, your bodies completely intertwined.
He pulls out slowly, only a few inches before he pushes back in, like he can’t stand to leave the heat of your body for long. He sets a slow, gentle rhythm, grinding his wiry pubic hair against your clit with every thrust. Your hands find the back of his head, wrapping his hair in your fingers and tugging him into you.
He kisses you again, softly on the lips, your nose, your forehead. Your eyes, when they’re open, look dazed, still heavy from sleep and made heavier by the slow drag of his cock in and out of your pussy. His own eyes nearly roll back in his head from how good you feel, but he determinedly keeps them trained on your face. He loves to watch you fall apart.
He sits back and pushes one of your legs up onto his shoulder before leaning forward again, deepening his thrusts so that he hits a spot inside you no one else ever has. Your hands tighten in his hair and you tug him back down to kiss you again. He increases his pace a little, still not enough to make you come, but enough to get you whimpering into his mouth.
“Please, Logan. Please.”
“Please what, princess?”
“Lemme come. Wanna come for you.”
What kind of man would deny you that pleasure? He certainly can’t. He sits up on his knees and pulls your other leg onto his shoulder before leaning over you.
“Gonna let me fill you up again, baby?” He starts slow and deep, relentlessly pounds into you, hitting that spot with every thrust and making you see stars.
“Yes, Logan! Please!”
He feels you shatter around him, your pussy squeezing him so tightly. He thrusts into you one two three more times before spilling inside you, filling you so full his spend leaks out around his cock and down between your thighs. He stays buried inside as he lets your legs slide off his shoulders. He presses kisses to any skin he can get his mouth on until you pull him back up to your lips.
“Good morning,” you giggle against his lips, a smile forming on your own.
“Good morning, baby.” He smirks at you and drops a kiss to your forehead.
You bask in the afterglow for a little while before the mess between your thighs grows sticky and uncomfortable.
“I need a shower…”
Logan slowly pulls out of you with a deep groan and stands up. He lifts you out of the bed and into his impossibly strong arms, carrying you to the bathroom. He sets you down on the counter and gets the water running.
You hop down and follow him into the shower, pressing your naked body against his. He gently runs a washcloth over every part of your body, lovingly, reverently even. You do the same for him, returning a softness he isn’t used to receiving. A softness he only gives to you and only gets from you.
After the shower, you end up back in bed, not willing to separate from him just yet. He cradles you against his chest, holding you close while he can.
“You made a mess on my bike last night,” he mumbles into your ear.
“I’ll clean it up later, Logan. Promise.” You nuzzle your face into his body and settle in for a few more hours of sleep.
Summary: Logan cuddles with his girl
Tags: pure fluff
Rating: G
A/N: Last one for today! I love it a lot actually :')
Logan Howlett Masterlist | Masterlist | Prompt Fills | AO3 | Kofi | Seasons of Life Masterlist
Logan can confidently say he’s never been cozy in his entire life. He’s lived rough since he was a very young boy, and it’s been many many hard years since then. He’s been comfortable before, of course – sitting on Wade’s couch or asleep in his bed. But he’s never been cozy.
That all changed with you. You’re soft where he’s rough, he doesn’t think he deserves something so soft in his life. But you love him. You with your fluffy blankets, your throw pillows, your plush rug under his coffee table. You’ve brought so much softness into his life.
He’s lying on the couch you bought together, an overstuffed monstrosity of a thing that is more comfortable than a couch has any right to be. Your body is tucked into his side, his head resting on yours and your face buried in his chest. You’re both covered by one of your fuzziest blankets. The heat in the apartment is cranked up to 75 and the tv is playing a christmas movie on low volume.
And for the first time in his life, Logan can say he feels cozy, wrapped up here in you.
Summary: It’s difficult being the only mutant at Xavier’s school with regenerative powers. There’s no one you can spar with – fellow professors included – that is on your level. Not when you can kill them, but they can’t kill you. That is, until you meet Logan.
OR
You spar with Logan and end up fucking on the training room floor.
Warnings: Smut, pwp/plot what plot/porn without plot, pain kink, blood kink (?), idk y’all this one is kinda freaky, sparring, knife play… kind of, reader is a mutant with deadpoolesque powers and likes to play with knives, She also teaches at the school, Logan is probably taller than reader, everyone is super strong here, pet names (baby, one Good Girl), semi-public sex, no use of y/n WC: 1.6k
A/N: First of all, I’d like to link @eupheme’s fic Tooth and Nail because the setting of that fic definitely inspired this one. I’d also like to thank @pedgito, @pr0ximamidnight, and @chaotic-mystery for feeding my delusions and encouraging me to write this pile of filth.
Logan Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi
It’s difficult being the only mutant at Xavier’s school with regenerative powers. There’s no one you can spar with – fellow professors included – that is on your level. Not when you can kill them, but they can’t kill you.
When Logan showed up you had thought you finally found your match. The man could regenerate just as quickly as you, and while you were excellent with knives, he had claws. He showed no interest in sparring though, or training with anyone at all. He is many things, but a team player is not one of them. You’d begged him on more than one occasion to go to the mat with you, but he refused.
Somehow, Charles managed to convince Logan to spar with you. You’ve been nervous all day and now you’re standing in the empty training room waiting for him to show up. Just as you start to worry he won’t, the door slides open. He steps through, closes, and locks the door behind him.
He makes his way to the mat and you realize how tall he is, taking in the bulge of his biceps on display in his tight white tank top. Logan could do some serious damage to you – temporarily that is. You try not to show how excited you are, bouncing on the balls of your feet and twirling a knife in your hand.
“You really think this is a good idea?” Logan asks gruffly.
“You can’t hurt me, Logan. Not really.”
“We’ll see.”
He lunges for you and you easily step out of the way, slicing his arm with your knife. He groans, so low it's almost a snarl. You drop to the floor and swipe your leg out, knocking him off his feet. He rolls just in time, and your knife ends up buried in the mat instead of his chest. With a frustrated grunt, you yank the knife from the mat and square up with him again.
“C’mon baby, is that all you got? Make it hurt,” he taunts you.
You go flying at him, a blade in each hand now. His claws come out and he parries one knife away, but you manage to sink the other in between two of his ribs. You twist the knife and pull it out, causing him to growl deeply.
“That’s more like it.”
He bats away your next attack, sinking his claws deep into your thigh in the process. You groan and kick him hard in the chest with your other leg, sending him sprawling to his back. You throw a knife into his bicep and while he works to remove it, you straddle his waist, slamming your other knife into his throat.
Logan roars and sinks his claws into your sides before throwing you halfway across the room. You roll to your feet, pulling out another knife. Logan stalks over to you, claws out, eyebrows lowered so that his face looks dark and menacing. You flick a knife in his direction, but he knocks it out of the air easily. You try to stay focused on the fight, but all you can think about is how fucking hot he looks coming toward you like a predator stalking its prey.
He swipes his claws at your face, but you block them with your arm, using his own leverage against him to impale him on your knife. He keeps driving you backward until he has you pinned against the wall, the handle of your own knife jabbing into your ribs. You grip the handle and shove him back, reclaiming your weapon. He’s on you again in a second, grabbing you by your tattered training uniform and throwing you back onto the mat.
You slide across the mat, unable to get your footing. He’s stronger than you, faster. It’s the first time you’ve felt like you have an even match, a worthy opponent. Your blood is racing through your veins, heart pumping so fast you can hear it.
You scramble backward as he makes his way back to you, getting to your feet just as he arrives in front of you. He’s breathing heavily, sweat glistening off his chest and shoulders, but he’s clearly not done with you yet.
He sinks his claws into your shoulder and uppercuts you with his fist. You fall again, landing hard on the mat, and he follows you. He lands heavy on your body, pinning you to the ground. He stabs two claws into the mat on either side of your neck, the middle one sheathed. You hope he can’t tell how turned on you are.
“Give up yet, bub?”
You shake your head, causing one of the blades to nick your throat. He drops his head and licks the blood off your skin, the wound itself already healed. You moan and buck your hips into his, finding that he’s in the same state as you – mercilessly turned on. He growls at the contact with his aching cock and grinds back into you.
He pulls his claws from the mat and cautiously traces the curve of your breast with one instead. He looks into your eyes, obviously searching for something.
“You want this?”
You pull your last knife from its sheath and bury it in his thigh. He doesn’t even flinch and you watch his pupils dilate. No sooner do you nod your consent than he’s sliced through your training suit, baring your breasts to him.
He sucks a nipple into his mouth, tongue laving it before he bites down – hard. You moan, grabbing his tank in both hands and pulling until it splits, baring his torso to you. He kisses his way up your throat, licking blood from your skin as he goes. He grinds his hard cock against your mound as he presses his lips to yours. You lick into his mouth, tasting your blood and sweat on his tongue.
He sits up and unbuttons his jeans, sliding the zipper down. You tug the knife out of his thigh, forgotten until now, and drop it on the mat beside you. You undo the belt on your training suit and start stripping the pants off as quickly as you can. Logan gets frustrated and uses his claws to shred them the rest of the way off you.
Finally bare for him, he spreads your legs, exposing your dripping cunt to his gaze. He drops his head down and licks up your slick, groaning deeply into your pussy. You whine and bury your hands in his hair, using the tufted sides like handles to grind his face into your cunt. Logan plunges his tongue in your hole, lapping up your slick like it’s water and he’s been stranded in the desert. You ride his face hard and fast, until that coil of pleasure in your belly is near snapping.
“Please don’t stop. Fuck, Logan. Fuck,” you plead with him as your orgasm nears. He shakes his head as if to say he wouldn’t dream of it and it sends you over the edge, the pleasure in your stomach expanding out through all your limbs, making them shake.
Logan sits back and shoves his jeans down far enough for his cock to spring out. He’s big, and your mouth waters at the sight. If you weren’t so desperate to have him inside you, you’d beg for a chance to lick the thick vein running down the underside.
“You gonna let me fuck you right here?”
“I’m gonna make you fuck me right here.”
“Is that right, baby?”
You reach for your knife again, but he pins your arm down. He lets out a low chuckle before lining his cock up with your entrance. He keeps you pinned as he slowly pushes into you, straight to the end of you. It hurts, but it feels so good, the stretch of your walls trying to accommodate him and failing. You clench hard and it pushes his cock back out of you.
“Fuckin’ tight little thing aren’t you?”
He doesn’t wait for a response before ramming himself into you again. This time, your walls relax and let him in.
“That’s it, baby. That’s a good girl. Taking me so well,” he mutters as he begins to rock his hips into you.
You dig your fingernails into his back, gouging deep lines that heal as fast as you can make them. He groans and bites down on your shoulder until he draws blood. His tongue glides over the indents in your skin that last only seconds.
His thrusts speed up as you adjust to him, fucking you so hard you scoot up the mat. He buries his claws in your sides, keeping you from sliding away and making you delirious with pain and pleasure. You come hard, clenching around his cock and gushing your slick all over him. He uses his claws to pull you down on his cock over and over until you feel his body tense up and then the hot splash of his spend inside you.
He slowly retracts his claws, making you groan at the feeling of them leaving your body.
“You okay?” He asks.
“Never better, actually.”
He rolls off you and lands on his back. You both lay there panting for a minute or two.
“How the fuck are we supposed to get back to our rooms?” You ask, looking over your tattered clothing.
“I wouldn’t worry about that just yet.”
“And why is that?” You flop your head to the side to look at him, broad chest heaving, still hard cock laying heavily on his belly.
