Hand🤚

Across The Bar

Logan Howlett x Reader

The first time you met Logan. (Can be read as a stand-alone fic, but it is a prequel- of sorts- to my other fic, Baby, Baby. This is set about four months before the events of that fanfiction- when Logan and Y/N met.)

Content warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, smoking, thoughts about and allusions to sex, feral!logan, bit of a perv!logan (?), masturbation (M)

This is considered a mature work of fiction. Minors do not interact. 18+ only.

Smoke rises from the end of the freshly clipped cigar, catching in the warm yellow of the overhead lighting. It rests between his pointer and middle fingers; he brings the cigar up to his lips and takes another puff. The thick, heady scent of nicotine dances through the stagnant air of the bar, He is wrapped in allure, his muscular frame barely hidden by the worn, umber leather jacket that stretches across the wide expanse of his shoulders. Dregs of ice and long forgotten whisky sit in the short glass before him. The stranger rests a heavy hand onto the sticky counter top- dried remnants of drinks passed coagulate on the varnished wooden surface. Logan would grimace at this, usually. Not tonight though. Tonight is different, tonight he saw you. You with the easiest, brightest smile. You, with sparkling eyes he wanted, no- needed to see rolling back into your head as he fucked himself into your cunt. You with the prettiest lips he’d ever seen- lips that he’d do ungodly deeds to see wrapped around his cock.

You captivated him entirely the moment you walked through the door. He had heard you before he saw you. A boisterous laugh ran through your body and echoed through the entire bar, the warm and unapologetic sound captured his attention. Logan turned his head to see you with a rowdy group of people he assumed were your friends. Their laughter seemed dull and faded, their very way of being was muted, insignificant, in comparison to your astounding presence. He decided- he knew, in that moment, that nothing could hold a candle to the all-encompassing glory of you. He feels his old, withered heart do something it hadn’t done in a long time- it clenches. The pang of want resonates from deep within his chest, and it stuns him. Logan didn’t know where this sudden rush of pure feeling came from, but he knew he wanted more of it- he wanted more of the pretty girl at the other end of the bar.

You obviously noticed the beautiful, bearded, brooding, behemoth of a man in the far corner of the room. It’s the first thing your friends comment on after their initial order of tequila shots. An eruption of low whistles and panting and dramatic face fanning breaks out amongst the group of you. Your eyes rake down his form. Sturdy thighs spread open on the oak bar stool, broad shoulders keep the fabric of his jacket taut. He’s hot, there’s no doubt about it.

The stranger clad in leather stares straight ahead, giving you a perfect view of his side profile. He has lush lips that are set in a slight frown. He has tired, hardened eyes. His eyebrows are furrowed. You’d be intimidated by him, if he wasn’t so fucking gorgeous. His beard fluffs at his jaw and tufts of hair curve out above his ears. Without a shadow of a doubt, he is one of the most physically imposing men you’ve ever seen. He’s broad and tall and strong- his biceps fill the sleeves of his jacket; the contours of his back muscles can almost be seen, even under a substantial barrier of leather. His hands rest on the bar, one leaning against an ashtray- a rolled cigar between his fingers, the other is gently splayed across his glass of whisky.

 You notice his fingers, thick and long. Delicious. The veins on his hands protrude in the prettiest way- those hands have been worked. Your mind wanders to if they’d feel good working you, spreading your pussy lips just right, fucking in and out of you… Your daze is quickly ended with the arrival of ten shots on the bar counter. Your tongue darts out of your mouth to lick the salt and suck the lemon, before downing the tequila. A familiar burn runs through you, the heat of the alcohol feeding your ever-growing intrigue toward the man at the opposite end of the bar.

Logan watches as your tongue extends down to lap the lightly sprinkled salt off your hand, he can’t help it. He feels a pang of guilt momentarily because he doesn’t even know you, and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about all the filthy things he wanted to do with you… All the things he wanted to do to you. That feeling, however, is quickly stamped out as your wet tongue makes contact with your skin. All other thoughts dissipate as he sees your painted lips wrap around the slice of lemon in your right hand. His breath catches in his lungs, blood rushes to his cock. He’s lost all decorum; he feels like a young man again. Although he fails to recall, even in his much younger days, exactly when the presence of a woman had this great of an impact on him.

He watches you down the soft amber liquid in one quick motion. You let out a shaky breath though gritted teeth, your features contorting in response to the hard liquor. A dazzling smile finds its way onto your face right as you recovered and, by God, Logan thought he’d been shot. The brightness, the pureness, the innocence of your smile hits him in the chest like a ton of bricks. He feels the air leave his lungs and he thinks to himself that he could live like this- breathless, chest burning, body lit ablaze with need- if it meant he could just see you smile like that at him.

Logan quickly diverts his eyes, forcing his gaze away from the little red dress you have on. Eyes drift down to the beads of condensation that gathered at the bottom of his glass. His hand moves swiftly to pick up the tumbler and Logan gulps down the remainder of his drink, finding a brief reprieve from the swell of emotion he feels. He taps his fingers on the bar twice, signaling his need for a refill.

You rifle through your purse, fishing out a single Marlboro Red and grimacing at your lack of a lighter. You turn to your friend Sara, “Do you have a light for me, S?” Your eyes wide and pleading. She scoffs, pushing a few loose red curls off the curve of her shoulder, “Y/N, babe, ew. You still smoke cigarettes?” Her lip curls up in disgust, not so slightly.

“It’s the correct way to enjoy nicotine.” You shrug, “You’ve all deluded yourselves with those watermelon-fizz-orgasm-kiwi-explosion vapes, but one day you’ll come back to the light. I have faith.” I clutch my fists to my chest and sigh dramatically.

“No babe, I’m fairly sure you’re the delusional one-” Sara tilts her head and fixes her gaze behind me, to the end of the bar with the handsome stranger. The flickering of a flame catches her attention and a smirk creeps up onto her freckled cheeks. “Actually, forget about that.” Her mossy gaze returns to you, and she has a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. “Why don’t you go and ask him for a light?” She nods at Sex On Legs who’s sitting down at the opposing corner of the bar.

You pivot to face his direction, butterflies erupt in your stomach from the mere sight of him, brooding and sexy… so fucking unbelievably sexy. Seriously, he looks like if God conceived the most beautiful man ever and improved him one thousand percent. That face was made for GQ cover shoots, or at least gloomy, brooding men’s cologne ads. He is, indeed, in possession of a lighter. The orange flame that emanates from the small silver contraption fans over the the front of his cigar, the soft glow illuminates his features, and he is somehow, miraculously, even more handsome. ‘Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me!’ Is all that goes through your mind, as you decide to approach him. You try your best to keep your breathing even as the distance between the two of you closes.

Logan hears you approaching, his ears practically pricked up in anticipation as your friend encourages you to come over. He slides his lighter into the pocket of his dark wash jeans and takes another puff of his cigar, almost absentmindedly. When you’re less than a foot away from him, he raises his gaze to your face. Your eyes lock onto his, drinking in the honey, the emerald and liquid gold of his irises. He tilts his head backwards with a sinfully attractive ease and regards you.

Your cigarette is pinched between your thumb and index finger, you raise it slightly, “Hey, uh. Could you do your fellow smoker a solid and lend me your lighter?” You give him an apprehensive smile, and he finds it endearing. Logan nods wordlessly at your request, his eyes never leave your face. He shifts his hips on the bar stool to fish the sought after contraption out of his pocket. Your eyes follow his hand down to his hips and have to stifle the sharp gasp that escapes you upon seeing the sheer girth of his muscular thighs. Logan smirks, a smug bastard through and through. Seeing the effect that he has on you, a wave of desire rolls through his body. He extends his arm to you, the flame of the lighter flickers eagerly. You bring the cigarette to your lips and hover the tip over the flame, sucking in a few breaths to ensure it’s properly lit. You exhale slowly, feeling the familiar sweep of the nicotine tingling down your arms and settling into your fingertips. A lazy smile graces your face, “Thank you, really. You’re a lifesaver…” He retracts his hand, slotting the lighter back into his pocket.

“Logan.” His voice is gravelly and low, it makes your pussy flutter. His lips curl up into a smile, “And you are?”

You tell him your name. He soaks it in, relishes in it. Logan burns it into his mind, the most beautiful name he’s heard for the world’s most radiant woman. Makes sense to him. He mutters out, “Pretty.”

He clears his throat, “So,” He steps down from his chair and stands before you, in all his glory. The deep, musky scent of his cologne floats up and caresses your senses. Fuck, you think to yourself, he looks so yummy, and he smells this fucking good… You want to lick him. You need to lick him. You find it harder than you anticipated to stop thinking about running your tongue up his neck.

“Since I’m already in the business of doing you favors, can I buy you a drink?” Logan enquires, his eyes flit down to your chest occasionally. He should feel bad about how shameless he’s being, but your tits look so fucking pretty in that dress- he finds it hard to even fake remorse.

“How presumptuous of you to assume that lighting my cigarette was an act worthy of the title of ‘favor.’” You tilt your head to the side slightly, an easy smile on your face.

He raises his eyebrows, a playful smirk widening on his perfect lips, “Are you judge, jury and executioner on what constitutes favors, Y/N?”

“Who’s to say I’m not, Logan?” You take another long inhale of your cigarette and bat your eyelashes up at him. A halfhearted scoff leaves his lips. The warmth in his eyes keeps you completely captivated; your knees feel weak under the intensity of his gaze.

“You want the drink or not, pretty girl?” He takes a step closer to you, heat radiates from his chest.

“Of course, I’m not one to refuse handsome strangers giving out favors.”

Logan smiles at you, it is wide and genuine- you don’t fully appreciate just how lucky you are to be on the receiving end of this rare gift. His heart clenches in his chest again when you return his gesture with a bright smile of your own.

Logans fingers twitch, he’d burn the world to be able to touch you. He doesn't think he's ever seen such ethereal beauty in his life before, you wholly and completely captivate him. He is hooked on your every word. He feels completely lost and encompassed by your presence- he needs to swim in all that you are, he'd let it drown him.

As the night progresses, your proximity to each other grows increasingly close. Shoulders touching, knees bumping against each other. His wayward hand that finds its way onto your knee, your fingers that trace lazy patterns on his thigh, conversations that went from obnoxiously loud laughs to hushed words alluding to something more.

His breath fans on your ear, the rumbling timbre of his voice sends chills down your body. He brings his hand up and cups your cheek, his thumb brushes your skin in smooth, soothing movements, “So, pretty girl... will you let me-”

Logan is cut off by the untimely and, slightly inconvenient arrival of your friend Sara. “B-Babe -" She hiccups, as she takes your shoulders and holds them for balance, fully turning you away from Logan. “Babe, I- I don't feel-" She hiccups and sighs frustratedly, "I don't feel good. Can we- will you take me home?”

Your eyebrows furrow in concern for your friend, "Of course, S." You stand up and help Sara into her jacket. “Babe, just give me a second, okay?" You leave her at a booth with a glass of ice water and a prayer that she can hold out until you got back to her apartment.

Logan stands at the bar, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “Hey. She alright?” He shifts his gaze over to your inebriated friend and gives you a sympathetic smile.

“Oh, y-yeah. I mean- she will be fine. I just need to get her home. I'm sorry, I-” You smile sheepishly and fiddle with one of your rings. “I was having a really- uh- a nice time with you.”

Logan nods, his heart swelling from the confirmation that you enjoyed his company, at least a fraction of the amount he enjoyed yours. “Me too, pretty girl. Let me give you my number- if you're so inclined, you can call me sometime and- and I'd be happy to do you some more favors.” Fuck, could I be any more of a fucking old man than that? What the fuck, Logan. He thinks to himself.

You wave back to him as you're exiting the bar, napkin still clutched in your hand.

You text him a few hours later, after Sara had been fed, showered and put to bed.

The abrupt ding of a notification tone rings out in Logan's bedroom. The white light of his phone provides the littlest bit of illumination. Logans eyes drift over to the message, he sees its you. A satisfied smile makes its way onto his face and he drops his pants, his cock strains against the fabric of his boxers. Logan pants, just the thought of you has him acting crazy. He's a good man- a rational man, he tries to assure himself. His convictions, however, are not stronger than his desire for you.

He sighs, almost saddened at his weakness and sheer lack of backbone when it comes to you. He wraps his hand around his cock and hisses as he squeezes down on it.

He rocks his hips faster and fucks his hand with fervor. He has conjured images of you on your knees for him, images of him on his knees for you. He thinks about how it would feel to push his cock into your wet pussy; how it would feel to pump his cum into you. He grunts, hand tightening around his cock. Logan tenses and spills into his hand, he keeps the same rhythm and brings his other hand down to massage his balls. He lets out a low moan as he rides out his high.

As soon as it's over, an overwhelming guilt plagues him. "What the fuck am I doing?" He mutters to himself, running a clean hand through his hair. He studies the spend on his other hand, regarding the ropes of cum with distain. Logan shuffles into the shower, letting the hot water beat down on his back. His forehead rests against the cold tile of the wall and he sucks in a few deep breaths. He assures himself that it could not possibly get worse than that- perhaps his was all he needed, a quick release. And now that it was over, he'd make sure it didn't happen again.

He had no idea how wrong he was.

Here's the (sort of) part 2 to Baby, Baby. Please let me know what you think! Would yall like it of this was a series?

- Viv xoxo

HUGH JACKMAN X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014)

Anyone who reblogs this post will have their user written on a poster saying "We Stand With Palestine" that I hope to put up somewhere in the village I live in, or the town that the village is next to.

wip wednesday!

hi my beautiful people! this is something ive been working on between other stuff so let me know what you think!

nsfw below!

˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚

You lean back against the seat, eyes speaking a thousand words as they meet his. God, he’s so handsome. His pretty hazel eyes, the slope of his nose, the salt and pepper stubble across his cheeks. Oh, how you want to feel the burn against your—

“Stop that.” Logan’s grunt snaps you out of your thoughts,

“Stop what?” You go for innocence but really, your tone is saturated in desire and it gives you away entirely.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what, Logan?” You’re challenging him, and though you can’t see it from the backseat, his dress pants get considerably tighter at the defiance in your voice. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Bullshit,” He counters, eyes flickering to yours and you choose then to bite down on your glossy lips. His knuckles flex with the urge to release the claws piercing beneath his skin. Is he crazy for being jealous that he’s not the one biting into the plush skin? “You’re staring at me like you want me to fuck you.”

Vermillion warmth spreads from your chest to your cheeks at his bluntness. It’s completely true, but the lewdness makes you flush, and your panties to dampen at the thought.

“It’s not gonna happen, baby.” His tone is final and it pisses you off. “Knock it off.”

You roll your eyes, turning to stare out the window. You’re not sure when it started raining, but the water droplets hit the glass pane harshly with its momentum. The pitter patter of water should distract you from Logan, but it just sends you further spiraling.

How dare he deny your feelings and then call you baby?

➵NSFW/MDNI➵ On a03 as an anthology titled "Voluptatem"

Multi-Chapter

The Fine Art of Knot Tying In the French Way Defying Conventions Chasing Waterfalls Fortitude

One Shots

Cleanliness and Godliness Gone Fishin' Barely Hidden NSFW Alphabet Virtuous Convalescence Regret Me Not In Sickness Painted Ribbons Anything You Can Do Learning the Hard Way Accounting and Other Arts Caught Hush Settlin' Down Under My Blanket Wait... Already Gone Little Patience Left Unsaid My Love and I Did Meet Don't Stop Bare Pain Relief Good Morning Mirror Image Lookin' for Trouble Stance Bloodied Ride 'em Cowgirl Snowbound Useless Ladylike Softness Forgiveness Human Touch A Lost Art Morning Light Impossible Dream On Occasion Too Much Thank God for Whiskey Holy Ache Marked Seething If At First Sunkissed Of Many Talents Smothered

AAAAAAA A MASTERPIECEE😭💗

miss all sunday 🌸 nico robin

70s logan moodboard

Bitches be like: I watch Deadpool 3 for the plot!

Meanwhile the plot:

my spidersona probably 

Dear twd(The Walking Dead) people of tumblr....

Why is there no (or hard to find) fanfics with Norman Reedus but not as Daryl Dixon from twd ???😭😭😭😭

I'm not judging, but for real if there are then they are hard to find in the sea of Dixon fics

I WANT REEDUSSSSS🏃💨