i just think both of them at the same time would cure my depression in ways that modern medicine could never.
oh how i love this and you kira đ
Peaches: âWould you be so kind in lending a hand?â (18+) â Logan Howlett
summary: the friendly old man neighbor of yours is helping you with your wash day
warning: the setting of this one-shot is AU no correlation to Wolverine & Deadpool, SMUT! MDNI, fingering, female oral receiving, age gap (legal), no use of Y/N, the use of pet name peach, sir kink, squirting
wc: 3.5k (well it's a full shot not a drabble ehe)
creds: i forgot where the divider is from, creds to the creator!
dedicating this one to my favorite authors!
@velvrei @wolverinesleftclaw @stark-ironman @lovelybucky1 @cyber333angel @dollverine @joelsgoldrush
The day had finally come when you decided enough was enough. The laundry had been sitting there for three days, staring at you from the corner of your room like a silent accusation. Today was the day you would conquer it. Armed with your resolve, you hauled the overflowing basket to the laundry room. But as fate would have it, the universe had other plans.
The washing machine, that steadfast appliance youâd trusted for years, chose this very moment to betray you. The once familiar hum was replaced by a groan, a sputter, and thenânothing. You stared at it, disbelief turning to frustration as you realized the mountain of clothes in your arms was going nowhere. Your favorite pair of undies, buried somewhere in the pile, would have to wait.
You let out a long sigh, leaning back against the machine, its cool surface doing little to soothe your annoyance. Arms crossed, you dialed your fatherâs number, hoping for some semblance of a solution.
âDad, the washing machine broke,â you said, half hoping heâd have a quick fix, half dreading his response.
There was a pause before he spoke, his voice calm, almost too calm. âAsk Logan for help, heâs pretty handy with stuff. I wonât be back until 8 PM tonight, buttercup.â
You nearly dropped the phone. Logan. Of course, it had to be him. The very thought of knocking on his door, asking him for help, sent a thrill of anxiety coursing through you. Why did it have to be him?
Logan Howlettâthe man who occupied your thoughts far too often, the man who was the face of your wildest dreams. Just the mention of his name made your heart race. And now, you were supposed to ask him for help? The universe certainly had a twisted sense of humor.
You ended the call, staring at the washing machine like it was some cruel joke. The burnt toast theory, they called it. Sometimes, when things went wrong, it was the universeâs way of steering you toward something better. But as you stood there, contemplating the inevitable encounter with Logan, you couldnât help but wonder if this was a blessing in disguiseâor a test you werenât sure you could pass.
Logan Howlett had been a fixture in your mind for five long months, ever since he moved into the neighborhood. It wasnât just his rugged good looks or the way he carried himself with that effortless confidence; it was the way he seemed to have slipped so seamlessly into your life. Your dad, always quick to befriend a fellow drinker, had taken to him immediately. They were practically inseparable, sharing beers on the front porch, watching games in the living room, and even lingering over meals in the dining room.
And there you were, sneaking glances every time Logan was around, feeling that unmistakable flutter in your chest whenever he caught your eye.
Today, though, was different. Somehow, you found yourself standing on his porch, heart pounding as your fist hovered in mid-air. What were you thinking? Asking Logan for helpâit felt too forward, too direct. But here you were, ignoring every ounce of self-doubt, raising your hand to knock on his door.
You barely had time to second-guess yourself before the door swung open. And there he was, the embodiment of everything that had been haunting your thoughts for months: tall, effortlessly sexy, his dark hair tousled just right. He was wearing a white shirt that clung to his broad chest and shoulders, tucked into denim jeans that fit him perfectly. You couldnât help but notice how the summer sun cast a warm glow on his skin, making the moment feel almost surreal.
âHey,â Loganâs voice broke through your reverie, casual yet deep enough to send a shiver down your spine. He squinted against the sunlight, his expression shifting into one of familiarity. âI was about to come over. Your dad called and asked me to check on something.â
You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady as your mind raced. âYeah, the washing machine broke. Dad said you could help⌠Would you be so kind in lending a hand?â
You could hear your own voice, slightly strained as you tried to strike the perfect balance. Not too high-pitched, not too low. Not too eager, not too aloof. But before you could overthink it any further, Logan flashed you a small smile, one that made your heart do a little flip.
âYeah, sure, Peach.â
And there it wasâthat damn nickname that never failed to turn your insides into mush. It started innocently enough, the day your dad brought home a bag full of peaches and peach-flavored drinks. Logan had been there, chuckling at the sight, and ever since, heâd called you âPeachâ with that easy, teasing tone. Now, every time he said it, you couldnât help but melt a little, even if you tried to play it cool.
As you turned to lead him to your house through the backyard, you couldnât help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the universeâs way of pushing you closer to the man who had taken up residence in your thoughts.
âIt made a really loud noise and it was shaking really bad, the sound was a bit scary,â you admitted, your voice tinged with worry. âAnd also, can you check if my clothes are alright? Did it tear them off or something?â
Logan nodded thoughtfully, a low hum of consideration escaping him as he surveyed the situation. âWhere did your dad put his tools?â he asked, his gaze already scanning the room.
âOh, itâs right there,â you said, pointing towards the shelf against the wall. Determined to be helpful, you stood on your tippy toes, stretching to reach the toolbox. But before you could grasp it, Logan moved past you with ease, his hand already closing around the handle.
âCareful, Peach. Itâs pretty heavy,â he murmured from behind you, his voice close enough to send a subtle shiver down your spine. His presence loomed over you as he reached up effortlessly, the scent of his cologne mingling with the warm summer air.
You stepped back, feeling a mix of flustered and grateful as he handled the heavy toolbox with ease, making you feel small and protected all at once.
âO-okay.â The stutter slipped out before you could stop it. Seriously? Get a grip, you scolded yourself internally. Trying to regain some composure, you quickly added, âIâm justâgonna⌠fix you something to drink.â You gestured awkwardly towards the kitchen, hoping to retreat before you embarrassed yourself further.
Logan nodded absentmindedly, his focus entirely on the washing machine that seemed to be on its last legs. He didnât even glance your way, which was both a relief and a disappointment. You took a nervous step back, then another, finally turning and heading to the kitchen, hoping a moment away would help you steady your nerves.
Leaving his presence created an unfamiliar ache in your chest, a tug of reluctance you hadnât anticipated. It was as if some part of you didnât want to leave his side, didnât want to be apart from the quiet strength that Logan exuded. The thought of retreating to the kitchen, of putting physical distance between you and him, felt wrong, almost unnatural.
You wanted to stay. You wanted to watch him work on the broken machine, to see those skilled hands in action, to listen to the steady, assured way he moved and spoke. But at the same time, you knew you couldnât trust yourself around him. Not when your heart raced at every little interaction, not when just being near him made you feel so unsteady.
You didnât have the confidence to be casual, to act like you werenât hanging on his every word and gesture. And you certainly didnât have the strength to face the feelings that threatened to overwhelm you every time you were close to him. So instead, you sought refuge in the kitchen, hoping the distance would help calm the storm inside you, even as it left you aching for more.
Twisting the faucet, you watched as the water streamed out, the steady flow almost hypnotic in its simplicity. The kitchen was quiet, the only sound the gentle rush of water hitting the sink. You leaned forward, letting the coolness soothe your heated skin, and splashed your face with the cold water, hoping it would bring some clarity to your muddled thoughts.
For a moment, the shock of the cold jolted you back to reality, away from the overwhelming thoughts of Logan that had been swirling in your mind. You closed your eyes, letting the droplets drip down your face, trying to steady your breathing and collect yourself. It was just a broken washing machine, just a neighbor doing a favor.
You swung open the fridge, your hand instinctively reaching for your favorite peach-flavored soda. The cool metal of the can felt reassuring against your palm as you pulled it from its place. With a satisfying hiss, you cracked it open, the sweet, fruity scent immediately filling the air.
Reaching for a tall glass, you filled it with ice, the cubes clinking softly as they settled. Then, you poured the bubbly soda over them, watching as the fizzy drink cascaded down, swirling and dancing around the ice. After inserting a straw into the glass, you carefully picked it up, the cool condensation forming on the outside of the glass. You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, and made your way back to where Logan was.
"Here you go," you announced, placing the glass on the nearby table. Logan turned his attention from the washing machine to you, his eyes briefly darting to the drink youâd set down. A smile curved on his lips, the warmth in his gaze making your heart skip a beat. âThanks, Peach.â
âEheâŚâ You offered a nervous smile in return, your cheeks heating up at the casual endearment. Trying to steady your fluttering nerves, you grabbed the straw and shoved it into your mouth with a little more force than intended. It was your way of silencing the awkwardness bubbling inside you, a desperate attempt to keep any embarrassing sounds from escaping.
âSo, your dadâs going on a date later today, huh?â Loganâs voice was light, but he noticed the nervousness you were trying to mask. His intention was to ease the tension with casual conversation.
âY-yeah, heâs working now, but thatâs what Iâve heard,â you replied, nervously fiddling with the straw. You decided to sit on the edge of the table where Loganâs drink was, adjusting it carefully to avoid spills.
Logan glanced at you, then back at the washing machine, his smirk widening. âYou okay with that?â
âWhy wouldnât I be?â you responded, a bit defensively.
Logan chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. âFrom what Iâve heard, youâve never been too thrilled about him dating. Is there something youâre not telling me?â
You hesitated for a moment, the weight of Loganâs question pressing on you. Taking a deep breath, you decided to let your guard down. âWell, itâs just⌠Iâve always felt like I have to compete for his attention. Itâs silly, I know, but itâs hard when youâre used to being the center of someoneâs world.â
Loganâs expression softened, and he gave you an understanding nod. The moment of connection hung between you as Logan turned his attention back to the washing machine. He worked with focused precision, his hands moving deftly as he made the final adjustments. The clinks and whirs of the machine were soon replaced by a steady, rhythmic hum.
âThere we go,â Logan said with a satisfied grin, stepping back to admire his handiwork. The washing machine was back in action, its gentle whirl now a reassuring sound.
You let out a relieved sigh, watching the machine function smoothly. âThank you so much, Mister Howlett. I really appreciate it.â you said, your gratitude sincere as you adjusted from your sitting position to stand up. You set down your now-empty glass on the table, the slight clink of the glass breaking the brief silence.
Hearing you address him as "Mister Howlett" sparked something within Loganâan unfamiliar, yet undeniable feeling. It was a sentiment he had been trying to avoid, one that stirred within him despite his best efforts to keep his distance. The formal address seemed to intensify the feelings he had been wrestling with, making them more pronounced.
You're not the only one who has a crush, he does too.
From the moment Logan had closed the trunk of his truck while moving into the neighborhood, you had been on his mind. He remembered the day vividlyâwatching you step out of your car in a beautiful white sundress that hugged your upper body and flowed gracefully. The way the dress accentuated your figure, combined with the ease of your movements, had captured his attention in a way he hadnât anticipated. As you came knocking on his door with your dad beside you to welcome him into the neighborhood, those peach-flavored pie you brought had been lingering in his mind ever since. He wondered if you smell as good as that pie where he devoured in one full bite that night. And here you are, wearing the same white sundress that's gotten him obsessed with.
As Logan took a step forward, you instinctively stepped back, forgetting about the table behind you. Your hips brushed against it gently, causing a small jolt. Logan had intended to reach for the glass of your beverage, but his proximity brought him uncomfortably close.
With a casual yet deliberate movement, Logan took the glass from behind you, his body nearly brushing against yours. He lifted the glass in front of you, tilting his head slightly with a smirk. âThanks, Peach,â he said, his voice low and warm.
Without breaking eye contact, he chugged down the drink, his gaze locked onto yours. The act was both confident and intimate, making the moment feel charged with unspoken tension. The shared space between you seemed to crackle with a newfound energy as you both stood there, the air thick with the lingering effects of the brief but intense connection.
You cleared your throat, feeling a flush of heat spread across your cheeks as you managed to wiggle your way out from the proximity of Logan. You made your way toward the washing machine, watching it work through the glass as your laundry tumbled inside.
âTell me, Peach,â Loganâs voice came from behind, smooth and deliberate. âIs your taste as good as this peach soda?â
Your breath hitched, and your mind raced. Am I hearing this right? Is this a dream? You thought, trying to process his words. Despite the possibility of it being a dream, you couldn't bring yourself to face him. Instead, you leaned against the washing machine, the rhythmic vibrations grounding you.
âUmâW-what do you mean, s-sir?â you managed to stammer, your voice barely more than a whisper.
You could feel Loganâs presence closing in behind you, the air growing warmer and thicker as he approached. The vibrations from the washing machine seemed to pulse more intensely against your torso, amplifying the sensation of his proximity. Each step he took made your heartbeat quicken, your senses acutely aware of the space between you shrinking.
Loganâs shadow fell over you, and you could almost feel the heat radiating from his body. His breath, though not yet touching your skin, was close enough that you could sense its warmth.Â
âYou wanna know what âm thinking, Peach?â He mumbles behind your ear. You wished he didnât hear your shuddered breath and the swallowed saliva down your throat from the way he makes you nervous.
âI donât think so, Mister Howlett.â you managed to reply, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to maintain your composure.
âNaw, why? Afraid you might like it?â You could feel the smirk slowly forming in his face.
âI-â
âIâm thinking of bending you against this washing machine, lift up your very short sundress and get on my knees. Slowly taking my time smelling that scent⌠of arousal from your pussy, where I know, sheâs dying to be touched, to be fingered, to be fucked, by me.â You gasp once you feel the bulge from his rough jeans, teasingly grinding against your ass earning a chuckle from him as he continues,
âOh yes I know, Peach. I know how much you want to feel this cock inside you. Shouldâve known better to close your blinds at night when your delicate⌠fingers desperately trying to reach that high, because Iâm always watching you, Peach. Even though youâre such a pain in the ass with that, Peach flavored pie, and that fucking beautiful smile. I wanna turn those smiles into tears⌠Tears of pleasure from me, fucking this cunt.â You gasped loudly as Logan roughly thrust his bulge against your ass, hitting you against the washing machine.
âL-Logan,â you stammered, your voice trembling with a mix of nervousness and anticipation.
âCall me, Sir,â Loganâs tone was laced with full authority, each word deliberate and commanding. You choked back a swallow before you corrected yourself.
"Sir, I don't know what you're talking about." You stood on your ground.
"Yeah? Let me remind you how it feels then, this time, with me." Logan grunted in your ears before you felt a rush of cold air blowing against your damped panties resulted from Logan lifting your skirt up. You whimpered once you feel his fingers grazing against your soaking wet cunt, earning a mocking tut from Logan.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk... Your cunt says otherwise, Peach." He rubs you through the panties before ripping them off of you, the sound piercing through the room.
Logan crouched on his knees, proving his promise to you the one where he'd like to take his time smelling you from down your legs up to your thighs, dragging his warm tongue on your delicate skin upwards earning a moan from you. Logan hummed once he connected his lips to your glistening pussy lips, his tongue swirling and lapping your gushing juices.
You feel like god had just granted you your wishes into doing this sinful things. You finally can experience the feeling of his tongue against your throbbing cunt that keeps on gushing. Logan moaned, while he laps your juices up like a dog. "You taste just as I imagined, peach-flavored cunt." He murmured against your pussy.
A rosy hue crept across your cheeks hearing his statement. "Come on, Peach. Gimme more." Logan breathed out, his two hands that were gripping your thighs pushed and lifted you upward attempting you to bend over more over the top of the washing machine. Spreading your legs wide, you moaned out loud once you feel his tongue crazily lap your pussy like a dog in thirst.
"S-sir.." You squeaked, feeling yourself close.
"Hmm, yeah, give it to me, Peach." Logan grunted, burying his face even more.
"Ngh, I'm gonna-" Before you could finish that sentence, you froze as you heard your dad's voice calls out to you.
"Buttercup! I'm home, have you managed with the laundry yet?" He hollers from the other room. You gasped while Logan didn't even budge, he kept resuming his action.
"Y-yes, Dad! Everything's good now!" You holler back, holding yourself back from moaning.
"Do you need any help, darling?" You heard the sound of footstep, your eyes widened and hurriedly answer, "No- No, Dad! Everything's good, I'll be coming in a second." Logan smirked.
"Okay darling, I'm gonna get some rest." Your dad holler back as his footsteps fading away. You sighed in relief before you gasped when you feel Logan entering two fingers inside your cunt.
"What a naughty little girl, she needs to make herself cum before she gets back to being the dotting daughter huh?" You whimper to his words.
"Please, sir. Don't stop, it feels so good.."
"Yeah? Wait till you feel my cock." Logan vowed. He curled his fingers inside you, effortlessly flicking your g-spot before he stood back up on his feet, leaning against your back. He gently guide you to stand on your feet even though it's impossible for you as you're still in daze from his fingers still working their magic.
Logan whispered all kinds of filthy things in your head to get you to reach your high. "Is this just like what you imagined, peach?" â "Feels so good yeah?" â "Yes it does. Are you gonna cum for me?" â "Yeah come on, almost there, I know," â "Make a mess on my fingers, baby."
As you choked a loud moan, Logan's other hand went to silenced you while you came gushing down on his fingers. Your whole body shook while Logan holds you in place as you're coming down your high.
"There you go, good girl." You panted once you've gained your strength to stand on your own, you turned around and to find him smirking, a notable wet droplet covered some parts of his jeans as you now just learned, that you squirted on him a little.
He brought his fingers up to his mouth, his gaze never leaving yours as he tasted what's remained of you on his fingers.
"Hmm, taste just like a peach."
let me know if you want me to start the journey for Logan & Peach đ
I love your writing! Hope to read more soon â¤ď¸đŤśđź
This means so much :) Iâll be posting a request later today!! I really take so much time to curate something my readers will love <3
ariana grande - positions (directed by dave meyers)
iâm sorry guys, life is actually so crazy right now! all requests will be posted soon i promise đЎ
i am down bad for mr. paradox im so sad no one writes for him curse you matthew macfayden for playing and my succession phase coming back /j
lemme look into this, if i do decide to write something for ya what would you want?
Pedro pascal makes tears slip down my thighs
oh iâm on it
god i wish i could write. I need to see logan with his young tipsy hypersexual little girlfriend who canât keep her hands to herself in the car
the boys are here to tell you to tune in tomorrow for the new chapter of nyxâs nightfall ËĘâĄÉË
NYXâs NIGHTFALL
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Cast continued....
Paul wesley as stefan salavtore
Ian somerholder as damon salvatore
Candice accola as caroline forbes
Pedro pascal as alaric saltzman
Nina dobrev as katherine pierce
Zach zoerig as matt donovan
Claire holt as rebekah mikaelson
lowkey need logan talking me thru it đ
oh my god i know, i imagine him just snapping and fucking the reader like crazy. i just know heâd be so vocal during sex. like all that anger omfg. introducing my love peaches as my lil oc for these requests :)
youâd always known logan had this deep anger inside of him. he tried his hardest to never let you experience it up close. which was why you decided to make a game of it. do whatever you could to make him so mad that he wouldnât be able to stop himself. you loved playing games, you always found yourself on top when it came to them.
you started small, pulling away from him in affection. loganâs deep fear of losing you left him constantly needing some form of affection from you to remind him that you werenât going anywhere. this blew up in your face faster than anything else you could do when he came home after a mission with wade and threw you over his shoulder grumbling something like âjus need to feel youâ
so you went big.
logan had left earlier for another mission. now usually youâd stay home like the good girl you were but you were dedicated to your cause so you decided to wear your shortest dress and tallest heels and went out. shooting a quick text to vanessa asking her to meet you at the bar.
you thought for a moment maybe you should at least text him and tell him you wouldnât be home when he got back but decided against it. you sure did love self-destructive behavior.
âhey hot stuffâ the soft voice of vanessa rang in your ears âlast thing i expected was a text from youâ
âoh you know ness sometimes i like to switch it upâ
âmhm, you do realize wolvies going to lose his mind when he canât find youâ
a small smirk grazed your face as you grabbed her hand leading her into the bar âthatâs exactly what i wantâ
âyou nasty little thing, iâm so proudâ she laughed calling that bartender over âtwo gin and tonics please, so what is it you want from himâ
âi want him to fuck me senselessâ you state with a smile, â i mean your telling me that he doesnât have it in him? heâs like two hundred pounds of solid muscle and anger for once i just want to be thrown around ya know?â
grabbing your drink you bring it to your lips as you look around the bar ânothing makes him more mad than other menâ
âwell if you want to see him murder someone i say go for it, youâd probably find that hot anywaysâ she teased grabbing her phone âoh look itâs wadeâ she said flashing you her screen
âyou enjoy that, iâll be minglingâ you laughed wiggling your fingers in goodbye, you quickly found yourself at the end of the bar ordering another drink, swallowing thickly you felt a bad vibe in your stomach maybe this was a bad idea.
âwhatâs a pretty lady like you doing here aloneâ a dark voice said from behind you.
as soft gasp left your throat as his hand touched your lower back. yup, definitely a bad idea.
âoh um, waiting for my friendâ you croak out looking over his shoulder eyes darting around the room looking for vanessa.
âyea and where is she nowâ he said looking me up and down âyou know a girl like you shouldnât be hereâ
âand whyâs that?â you question your grip on your glass tightening when he somehow moves closer than he was before.
âyou should be home waiting for your man to come home and take care of ya, doesnât that sound niceâ his voice dropping octaves as his grip gets tighter on your hip.
suddenly the room got smaller and the air got thicker. what the hell were you doing? this isnât you and your moment of confidence ran away the second another man started talking to you. you knew your place, you knew where you belonged and it wasnât here.
ânormally thatâs where sheâd beâ the gruff voice of your boyfriend echoed around the room.
letting go of the breath you didnât know you were holding you loosen your grip on the glass quickly getting off the bar stool and away from the man.
âloâ you start grabbing the sleeve of his jacket.
âdonâtâ he barked out, his eyes held an anger youâd never seen before and that scared you.
but wasnât this what you wanted?
he grabbed your upper arm pulling you out of the bar and towards your car.
âloganâ you tried again
âstop talkingâ he snarled opening your door and pushing you in before moving to the drivers seat. âi leave you alone for one fucking night and you decide to go and be a slut huhâ
âthat isnât what i was doing loganâ you argue back turning in your seat to face him as he pulls the car away from the bar.
âdid i say you could talk?â he asks you as if it was the dumbest question in the world. your silence making him angrier.
âdid i say you could talk?â he asks again impatiently his hand tightening around the wheel.
shaking your head no, you subconsciously push your thighs together to create some friction. hoping your boyfriend doesnât notice the growing wetness in your panties with each word he speaks.
the car ride back to the apartment you shared was filled with silence, the tension growing in your stomach as you watched his jaw set and his hands almost break the wheel. not to mention the heavy breathing he couldnât seem to get under control.
you knew you were in for it the second the door to the apartment closed and he pushed you roughly against it.
âthis is what you wanted huh bubs?â he groans out slotting his thigh between your legs pushed perfectly against your heat. âcould smell you the whole fuckinâ car rideâ
âloâŚâ you moan as he attacks your neck, feeling his canines against your carotid as he harshly bites down to shut you up.
âiâm here wondering if it was me that did this to you or that fuckhead at the barâ he voiced roughly his hands moving under your thighs to pick you up. âhmm?â he hums cocking his head.
âyou logan, only youâ the breathless words leave your mouth without a second thought. pushing your body forward to kiss him he leaned far away not letting you.
âiâm in control here darlinâ not youâ
holding you close to him he locks his lips with yours. the kiss nothing but messy, filled with teeth, tongue, and spit. he walks you to the bedroom throwing you on the bed hovering over you. your thighs pressed together did little to ease the need in your core. âcmon honey gunna let me show you how iâll ruin any other man for youâ
âmhmâ you moan out when he continues his attack on your body, leaving trails of kisses down your chest stopping at the peak of your breast. âpleaseâ you say closing your eyes
you heard it before you felt it. the sounds of his claws tearing your dress apart. very few times had his claws ever made an appearance during sex mostly being out of his control.
his mouth laps at your nipple, sucks, biting as his other hand moves down to your heat. âso wet already darlinâ iâve barely touched youâ he cups his rough calloused hand against your cunt, his middle finger prodding your hole lightly.
squirming under him your rendered silent when he forces two fingers into you, pushing and pulling back and forth you moan out his name like a prayer.
âcmon use your wordsâ he smiles down at you âfeels good doesnât itâ his head dipping down to meet with your neck again, his breath on your ear as he bites down.
âjust remember your mineâ his gruff voice bounced around my head as his ministrations came harder and faster his thumb meeting my clit in haste. âyou gunna cum for me peachesâ
you felt the familiar tension in your lower stomach, like a band that was waiting to snap. your pussy clenching around his two fingers you throw you head back moaning out waiting for that snap.
only for it to never come. your eyes widen as you lean up on your elbows looking at the seemingly put together man. âwhat the fuck loganâ
âwatch it babyâ he counters getting off the bed and removing his clothes âyou didnât think i was gonna let you off that easyâ
you watch as he walks over to the side of the bed grabbing your leg and pulling you forward. âopen up hunâ he commands grabbing a fist full of your hair.
you eye his large cock placed in his right hand. god it was beautiful. you could trace every vein with your eyes closed thatâs how well acquainted ďżźyou were. the weight of his member made it band downward instead of bouncing up to his belly.
opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out he eased himself into you. âjust like thatâŚâ he groaned out, not giving you a second to adjust he picks his pace up. hips thrusting forward at a fast rate, his hand in your hair the only semblance of balance you feel in that moment. âyou look so pretty like thisâ
moving your hand down your body you fingers barley touch your clit before his rough hand wraps around your wrists pinning it above you. âso fucking impatientâ he groans with one last thrust to your mouth before pulling out completely.
his hand thatâs wrapped in your hair pulls your head up so heâs met with your face. âwhy you crying peaches? mâ i being to rough for yaâ he mocks before dropping you on the bed slotting himself between your legs.
he lines himself up with your hole before roughly grabbing your hips and thrusting in. the pace he sets is relentless, borderline inhuman as he stretches you out leaving you a babbling mess of âyes baby oh godâ
âfuck peaches your so fuckinâ tight takinâ all of meâ he groans his grip on your hips sure to leave marks. âsuch a little fuckinâ slut for meâ
feeling your orgasm climbing to its peak you feel your breath getting heavier and your hands clamping onto to anything and everything to stabilize you.
âbe a good girl and cum for me yeaâ he commands his rough grip moving up towards you neck with pressure. just the feeling of him absolutely railing the fuck out of you is enough to make you cum but add in the sudden choking and your a goner.
you cum with a scream slamming your eyes shut and your nails digging into loganâs back. itâs not long before his thrusts slow and his hips stutter does he cum inside of you with moans in your ear.
pulling out of you he lays his back against the bed pulling you close. âyou love playing games donât ya peachesâ he laughs out against your head.