Smut And Fluff Of All Fandoms 😁

👦🏻⚠️Wolverine⚠️👦🏻

Logan begins to mouth at the skin of your jaw, leaving hot, lingering kisses in his wake. There's no rush to it—simply the fundamental need clawing at his brain to feel you. He wraps his arms around your shoulders, and your hands grasp his hips to remain still. You grunt contentedly as his teeth ghost over your quickened pulse, your breath catching in your throat.

"Want you." He murmurs, his thighs on either side of your hips.

"Yeah? You wanna take your clothes off?" You lower your voice enough for it to come out as a whisper, your hands smoothing over the material of his jeans before they grip his waistband.

He nods his head, humming a little 'mhm' before raising himself further up. You pull them down—including his underwear—and Logan shimmies out of them before straddling your lap again. He's alluring above you like this; his cock half-hard, his eyes holding a gaze that's a note too intense, and his lips slightly agape when he releases a sigh of relief.

One hand of yours snakes along his body, skimming past every detail and scar, until you reach his bottom lip. Without you even getting out a command, Logan slips in a digit into his awaiting mouth. He groans at the taste, his senses intensifying his cognizance of your natural scent, and fuck, the blood from his brain goes straight down to his core. His slick tongue draws your finger further inside, the muscle swirling to smear his saliva around it. His eyes flicker to yours, arrogance glinting within them as he pulls himself back.

Logan takes hold of your wrist, bringing your hand to his hole. As you ease in a finger, he tips his weight on his knees to reach for a cigar. He lights it up, the corners of his mouth downturning when he feels you pause, waiting patiently for him to finish with it. "Didn't say you had to stop for me." He grumbles, irritation igniting in his chest.

"You might've hurt yourself if I had you take it." You push it in further, rolling it forward and backward to punctuate your mock-of-a-scolding.

He scoffs, the sound slightly alternated by the whimper trapped in the back of his throat. "I'm not fragile. I can take you." He presses his ass back as if to prove his point, gasping when the digit slips in all too easily. His walls clench, the intrusion sudden enough to make him throb.

"Fuck..." he swallows, taking deep breaths before impatience settles. To minimize his uncontrollable whines, he hangs the cigar between his lips. Mumbling, "Stop wasting time. Wanna feel your cock."

An amused huff escapes your nose, but you still comply. You thrust your finger inside of his entrance in and out, in and out—feeling him beginning to relax around you. You add in another, watching his face twitch with micro-expressions of pleasure. Stretching him open so slowly, he almost chokes on the smoke.

When you pull out, believing he's prepared enough, he's already inching towards a climax. Logan whimpers in frustration at the loss, puffing a dirtied cloud towards your face to retaliate. You ignore his protests anyway, rushing to sling your belt out of the hoops and to finally unzip your pants.

He's too horny to realize that you don't take it off completely. The gears of his brain only clink back together when he registers your leaky tip slowly breaching his hole. Little tremors pass through his thighs, the burn shifting into a pang of want.

"Atta-fuckin'-boy," Logan groans out, sinking himself down your length, and spreading his legs wider, "always so hard for me." This time, his words were teasing, careless in their lust-filled nature as he grinds down on your cock. In response, you take the stick from him, greedily inhaling a long drag.

He doesn't immediately react, but when he does, you feel it. The sight of you smoking his cigar revives an innate possessiveness he had forgotten. Makes him squeeze around your dick like he wanted you to cum inside of him so soon.

Your palm finds security on his nape, pulling him closer to you. Tugging the stick away from your mouth, you pry his lips open with your thumb. You breathe the smog into his mouth, holding him in place and making him endure the sensation of you being merely inches away and the familiar caress of the fume. Logan's eyes widen, his hips rocking involuntarily. Heat pools in his belly, his cock twitching from it all and he's suddenly high off of it.

Once you're done, he swears he's dizzy with the need of you fucking him until he's senseless. Logan quickly leans in, capturing your lips in a fervent kiss. The smog passes in between his teeth, and he aches to do it again.