Logan Howlett Nsfw Alphabet

NYX’s NIGHTFALL

𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

𝐍𝐲𝐱 | (𝐆𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐌𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲)

𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭; 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*  *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

｡･ﾟﾟ･　　             ･ﾟﾟ･｡

In the depths of the cosmos, where the stars danced in eternal harmony and the celestial beings reigned supreme, there existed Nyx, the goddess of the night. Cloaked in darkness and adorned with the shimmering jewels of the night sky, Nyx was a figure of mystery and power. But beneath her enigmatic exterior lay a soul burdened by struggles that mirrored the depths of the cosmos she ruled. Nyx's first struggle came from her own nature. Born from Chaos itself, she embodied the primordial darkness that existed before creation. Many feared her, shunning her as an omen of doom and despair. Her second struggle arose from her tumultuous relationship with Erebus, the god of primordial darkness. Their union was one of passion and conflict, as their opposing natures clashed like cosmic forces colliding in the void. Despite their love, they were often consumed by darkness, their union bringing chaos and destruction in its wake.As the goddess of the night, Nyx bore witness to the sorrows and fears of mortals as they slept. Their nightmares and anxieties weighed heavily on her heart, and she longed to bring them peace and solace. Yet, try as she might, she could not banish the darkness from their dreams. Nyx's greatest struggle, however, came from within herself. Immortal though she was, she yearned for connection and understanding, a longing that seemed impossible to fulfill. Surrounded by the vast emptiness of the cosmos, she felt isolated and alone, her darkness swallowing her whole. But amidst the shadows, there flickered a glimmer of hope. Nyx discovered that within the depths of her darkness lay the potential for transformation and renewal. Embracing her struggles as part of her divine nature, she began to see the beauty in her darkness, the stars shining brightest against the backdrop of night. With newfound purpose and resolve, Nyx embarked on a journey of self-discovery and redemption. She reached out to mortals, offering them the comfort of her embrace and the promise of dreams that whispered of hope and possibility. She forged alliances with other gods and goddesses, finding strength in unity and understanding. As the eons passed, Nyx's darkness became a beacon of light in the cosmos, a reminder that even in the darkest of nights, there is beauty and possibility waiting to be discovered. And so, Nyx's struggles transformed into triumphs, her darkness giving birth to stars that illuminated the heavens with their brilliance. In the end, Nyx emerged from the shadows as a symbol of resilience and redemption, a testament to the enduring power of darkness to bring forth light. And though her struggles may have been many, they were but stepping stones on her journey to embrace the infinite possibilities of the cosmos she ruled.

𝐇𝐢 𝐚𝐥𝐥, 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐲𝐱'𝐬 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥. 𝐒𝐨𝐨𝐨𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤! 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐎𝐂. 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝 , 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐣𝐨𝐛 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.

𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐦, 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝. 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐭. 𝐀𝐧𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝.

𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐞 & 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!!

𝐗𝐎𝐗𝐎 -

𝐌𝐢𝐚 ♡

oh how i love this and you kira 💌

Peaches: “Would you be so kind in lending a hand?” (18+) — 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 you’d trusted for years, chose this very moment to betray you. The once familiar hum was replaced by a groan, a sputter, and then—nothing. 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 father’s number, hoping for some semblance of a solution.

“Dad, the washing machine broke,” you said, half hoping he’d have a quick fix, half dreading his response.

There was a pause before he spoke, his voice calm, almost too calm. “Ask Logan for help, he’s pretty handy with stuff. I won’t be back until 8 PM tonight, buttercup.”

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 Howlett—the 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 universe’s way of steering you toward something better. But as you stood there, contemplating the inevitable encounter with Logan, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was a blessing in disguise—or a test you weren’t 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 wasn’t 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 help—it 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 couldn’t help but notice how the summer sun cast a warm glow on his skin, making the moment feel almost surreal.

“Hey,” Logan’s 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. “I was about to come over. Your dad called and asked me to check on something.”

You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady as your mind raced. “Yeah, the washing machine broke. Dad said you could help… Would you be so kind in lending a hand?”

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.

“Yeah, sure, Peach.”

And there it was—that 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, he’d called you “Peach” with that easy, teasing tone. Now, every time he said it, you couldn’t 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 couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the universe’s way of pushing you closer to the man who had taken up residence in your thoughts.

“It made a really loud noise and it was shaking really bad, the sound was a bit scary,” you admitted, your voice tinged with worry. “And also, can you check if my clothes are alright? Did it tear them off or something?”

Logan nodded thoughtfully, a low hum of consideration escaping him as he surveyed the situation. “Where did your dad put his tools?” he asked, his gaze already scanning the room.

“Oh, it’s right there,” 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.

“Careful, Peach. It’s pretty heavy,” 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.

“O-okay.” 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, “I’m just—gonna… fix you something to drink.” 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 didn’t 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 hadn’t anticipated. It was as if some part of you didn’t want to leave his side, didn’t 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 couldn’t 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 didn’t have the confidence to be casual, to act like you weren’t hanging on his every word and gesture. And you certainly didn’t 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 you’d set down. A smile curved on his lips, the warmth in his gaze making your heart skip a beat. “Thanks, Peach.”

“Ehe…” 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.

“So, your dad’s going on a date later today, huh?” Logan’s voice was light, but he noticed the nervousness you were trying to mask. His intention was to ease the tension with casual conversation.

“Y-yeah, he’s working now, but that’s what I’ve heard,” you replied, nervously fiddling with the straw. You decided to sit on the edge of the table where Logan’s drink was, adjusting it carefully to avoid spills.

Logan glanced at you, then back at the washing machine, his smirk widening. “You okay with that?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you responded, a bit defensively.

Logan chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with curiosity. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve never been too thrilled about him dating. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of Logan’s question pressing on you. Taking a deep breath, you decided to let your guard down. “Well, it’s just… I’ve always felt like I have to compete for his attention. It’s silly, I know, but it’s hard when you’re used to being the center of someone’s world.”

Logan’s 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.

“There we go,” 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. “Thank you so much, Mister Howlett. I really appreciate it.” 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 Logan—an 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 vividly—watching 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 hadn’t 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. “Thanks, Peach,” 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.

“Tell me, Peach,” Logan’s voice came from behind, smooth and deliberate. “Is your taste as good as this peach soda?”

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.

“Um—W-what do you mean, s-sir?” you managed to stammer, your voice barely more than a whisper.

You could feel Logan’s 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.

Logan’s 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. 

“You wanna know what ‘m thinking, Peach?” He mumbles behind your ear. You wished he didn’t hear your shuddered breath and the swallowed saliva down your throat from the way he makes you nervous.

“I don’t think so, Mister Howlett.” you managed to reply, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to maintain your composure.

“Naw, why? Afraid you might like it?” You could feel the smirk slowly forming in his face.

“I-”

“I’m 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, she’s dying to be touched, to be fingered, to be fucked, by me.” You gasp once you feel the bulge from his rough jeans, teasingly grinding against your ass earning a chuckle from him as he continues,

“Oh yes I know, Peach. I know how much you want to feel this cock inside you. Should’ve known better to close your blinds at night when your delicate… fingers desperately trying to reach that high, because I’m always watching you, Peach. Even though you’re 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.” You gasped loudly as Logan roughly thrust his bulge against your ass, hitting you against the washing machine.

“L-Logan,” you stammered, your voice trembling with a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

“Call me, Sir,” Logan’s 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?" — "Feels so good yeah?" — "Yes it does. Are you gonna cum for me?" — "Yeah come on, almost there, I know," — "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 😉

thinking about that one scene with tony and steve where they are arguing but imagining bambi!stark!reader x logan howlett 💋

‘you aren’t so special bambi huh’ logan grunts out in anger ‘take away all those looks what are you really’

you’re smirk turns into a full blown smile raising your head and standing tall. ‘genius, billionaire, maneater, philanthropist… honestly wolvie the list goes on’

‘yea and what do you have to show for it besides that fucking attitude’ he argues back crossing his arms over his chest that rises and falls with each heavy breath.

‘oh i don’t know maybe those suits you and your little boy band like to wear’

Not a request but your SFW alphabet was sooo good, when I saw that you said that it was so disappointing I literally couldn’t believe you because your writing is the best!!!!!!!!! 💗💗💗💗💕💕💕

whoever u are i love u <3 thank you, sometimes it’s hard as a writer to see your work in the way other people do. things like this keep us going 💌

There is no slut shaming in this house, only slut encouragement

NYX’s NIGHTFALL

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

“𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐭“

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

Natalya woke up to the soft rays of morning sunlight filtering through her curtains, casting a warm glow across her room. Stretching languidly, she yawned and blinked away the remnants of sleep, feeling the gentle tug of anticipation for the day ahead. The scent of fresh coffee wafted from the kitchen, enticing her out of bed. With a contented sigh, she swung her legs over the edge of the mattress, relishing the comforting familiarity of her morning routine as she prepared to face the day. As Natalya descended the stairs, she could hear the faint sounds of her aunt Jenna's anxious murmurs emanating from the kitchen. With a furrowed brow, she quickened her pace, wondering what had her usually composed aunt so flustered. Entering the kitchen, Natalya found Jenna pacing back and forth, a whirlwind of activity. "Aunt Jenna, what's wrong?" Natalya asked, concern evident in her voice. Jenna glanced up, a slightly frazzled look on her face. "Hey, Natalya. I'm just trying to figure out what to whip up for breakfast for the first day back to school. Any suggestions?" she said, tossing a few ingredients onto the counter. Natalya surveyed the options and shrugged. "How about some simple pancakes or scrambled eggs? Can't go wrong with those," she suggested. Jenna nodded, relieved. "Good call." As they were setting the table, Elena descended the stairs, her usually vibrant demeanor replaced by a somber expression. Natalya and Jenna exchanged concerned glances as Elena joined them at the table, her eyes cast downward. "Morning, lena. You okay?" Natalya asked, reaching out to gently squeeze her sister's hand. Elena managed a weak smile. "Yeah, just not feeling it today, you know?" she replied, her voice tinged with melancholy. Natalya nodded understandingly, offering her sister a supportive nod. Jenna chimed in, placing a comforting hand on Elena's shoulder. "You're not alone, Elena. We're here for you," she reassured, her words carrying a sense of warmth and understanding. The sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the staircase, signaling Jeremy's arrival. However, when he entered the kitchen, it was immediately evident that something was off. His eyes were bloodshot, and a faint scent lingered in the air, unmistakable to Natalya and Elena. Natalya furrowed her brow, concern evident in her voice. "Jeremy, are you okay?" she asked, eyeing him closely. Jeremy scoffed, his movements sharp. "Yeah, I'm fine," he retorted, his tone defensive. Elena exchanged a worried glance with Jenna, sensing the tension in the room. "Jeremy, it's obvious you're not okay. What's going on?" she pressed, her voice tinged with frustration. Jeremy shook his head adamantly. "I'm not high, okay? Just tired," he insisted, his words laced with defiance. Elena didn't hold back. "Jeremy, cut the act. We know what's up," she said bluntly, her tone cutting through the tension. "Just leave me alone. alright?" Jeremy said as he walked out of the house. The two sisters looked at each other. "Aunt Jenna, we're going to pick up bonnie. Love you." Natalya said as she grabbed her keys.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

The car ride to school was eerily quiet, the weight of their recent loss hanging heavily in the air. Natalya gripped the steering wheel with white-knuckled determination, her gaze fixed on the road ahead. Beside her sat Elena, her expression somber as she stared out the window, lost in her thoughts. Bonnie, in the backseat, fidgeted nervously with the strap of her backpack, unsure of what to say. The three friends had been inseparable since childhood, but the events of the past summer had left them all reeling.As they approached the school gates, Natalya's grip on the steering wheel tightened. This would be their first day back since the accident that had claimed both of their parents' lives. The familiar sight of the school brought a flood of memories, both happy and painful.Elena let out a shaky breath, breaking the silence. "I don't know if I can do this," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Natalya glanced at her sister, her own heart heavy with grief. "We'll get through this together, Elena. We have each other," she said, her voice filled with determination.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

As the three girls strolled down the halls of Mystic Falls High School, Bonnie animatedly recounted a conversation with her grandmother. "So, Grams tells me I'm psychic because we're descendants of the Celtic Druids. I know, right? I wasn't buying it either until I remembered my accuracy. I predicted Obama, David Cook, Heath Ledger, Britney's comeback, and I still think Florida will break off and become little resort islands. I think there's something to it," she explained, her voice filled with enthusiasm. Elena, lost in her own thoughts, paid little attention to Bonnie's ramblings as her gaze remained fixed on Matt, her ex-boyfriend. Bonnie noticed Elena's distraction and made eye contact with Natalya, who subtly gestured towards Matt. "Did I tell you about the orgy? I had the football team over. Threw a blindfold on. I still don't know who took my virginity -- EARTH TO ELENA," Bonnie exclaimed, snapping her fingers to get Elena's attention.

Startled, Elena jumped and turned her focus back to Bonnie. Behind her, Natalya struggled to suppress a laugh. "I'm sorry, it's just... I feel so bad. I broke up with him after our parents died, and... ugh, I don't know. I promise I heard what you said though," Elena apologized, leaning against the lockers. "Oh yeah? Then why don't you tell us what Elfie said?" Natalya teased, using a childhood nickname for Bonnie. Their grandmother, Sheila, had always played their favorite soundtrack, "Wicked," hence the nickname. "C'mon, then tell me," Bonnie urged, turning her attention back to Elena. "You were saying something about being psychic." Elena nodded, a curious expression on her face. "Huh, she missed the most important part," Natalya remarked, adjusting her hair. "Okay then, predict what's in store for me," Elena challenged, locking eyes with Bonnie. "I predict this year is going to be kick-ass. And I predict all the sad and dark moments are going away. You both are going to be happier than happy, with smoking hot sex too," Bonnie declared with a grin, her confidence shining through. Natalya scoffed at Bonnie's prediction. "Puh-lease, I'm not having piping hot sex with anyone. I'm waiting for a nice, rich guy, maybe older, to sweep me away and fly me to Paris before I put out," she stated matter-of-factly. "Well, it's always nice to have dreams, Glinda," Bonnie teased, her gaze shifting to Caroline, who was approaching their group. "Hey! Oh my gosh, Elena, Natalya, how are you guys? It's so good to see you," Caroline exclaimed, enveloping both girls in a tight hug. While Elena seemed less enthusiastic, Natalya reciprocated the hug with her usual bubbly demeanor. "Thanks, Caroline, we're hanging in there," Natalya replied as she pulled away, smiling warmly at her. As Elena busied herself with her locker, Caroline turned her attention to her. "So, have you seen Matt yet?" she inquired, her gaze fixed on Elena. Natalya's eyes widened in surprise. It wasn't a secret that Elena and Matt had broken up. "They broke up, Caroline," Bonnie interjected, shooting Caroline a disapproving look. "I know, but that doesn't mean they can't talk," Caroline insisted, her attention still on Elena. "You're right, it doesn't. But Elena and I have been through a lot, so why would she want a constant reminder of the relationship that failed because our parents died?" Natalya snapped at Caroline, her frustration evident. As if on cue, Matt approached their group. "Speak of the devil and he shall appear," Natalya muttered under her breath to Bonnie, who smirked in response. "Hey, guys..." Matt's eyes scanned over all three girls before settling on Elena. She offered him a small smile, a departure from her usual demeanor. "Hi, Matt," she greeted softly, looking down. He nodded in acknowledgment. "Good to see you," he replied before walking off in the other direction. "Well, that was fucking weird. What was he trying to accomplish with that stupid move?" Natalya sighed, unable to make sense of Matt's actions. It baffled her how upset he seemed with Elena when she hadn't left him for someone else. Caroline turned around and walked away before she could worsen the situation. "You know, Lena, don't let Matt get to you with his stupid games. Same with Caroline. Well, actually, Caroline cares about you. Matt is TBD," Natalya remarked as the three girls started walking down the hallway. They passed the admin office when Bonnie abruptly stopped. "Who's that?" she questioned, prompting the sisters to look through the window. "We can only see his back," Elena responded. "Yeah, but it's a hot back," Natalya winked at Elena.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

The secretary looked up at Stefan as he leaned over the desk. "I'm sorry, but your records are incomplete," she said. "Are they?" Stefan mocked. "You're missing immunization records, transcripts, parental contact information..." she rambled, shaking her head. "We really prefer parents to come in and meet with us in person, and we absolutely insist on transcripts," she said, looking up at him. Stefan lowered his sunglasses as his eyes dilated, captivating the woman's gaze. "Please look again. I'm sure everything you need is there," he said. The secretary looked back down, slightly disoriented. "Well, would you look at that! You're right, everything is here."

"Please don't be ugly, please don't be ugly," Bonnie chanted as he slowly turned around and made eye contact with the girls. "Oh wow, ten out of ten handsome," Natalya remarked. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jeremy walk past with what she called his stoner friends. She watched as he dragged his feet, swaying a bit. "Oh, he's definitely stoned," she thought to herself. She quickly excused herself as she watched him enter the men's room. She ran off towards the room, not angry at him, but upset with how terribly he was doing at hiding it. Jenna didn't deserve the shit storm that would come crashing down on her if the school found out. She slammed the men's room door open as Jeremy was putting eye drops in his eyes. Ignoring the two guys using the urinals, she grabbed Jeremy and spun him around, pushing him back a little. She took one look into his eyes and saw how bloodshot they were. Jeremy jerked his arm away from Natalya. "Great first day of school and you're stoned. You know I hate being the bad sister, but I can't keep letting you do this to yourself," she said. "I'm not stoned," he said. "You were stoned when you left the house this morning, Jeremy. Elena might have believed you, but I sure as hell didn't," she responded as she started digging through his coat pockets trying to find his stash. He jerked away, but she was faster. "Where is it? Is it on you?" she said, fighting with him. "You need to chill yourself," he said back in a lazy tone. "Chill yourself... Oh, stoner talk, you're so cool," she mocked him. "There's none on me, stop it," he said as he pushed her back, trying to get her to back down. "No, I'm going to be on your ass every single time. Do you even stop to think about how this is affecting others, Jeremy? I get it, you're hurting, and that's okay, do what you need to do. But don't do it where there are people who can make our lives an even bigger fucking mess than it is now. Do you even stop to think about how this could affect Aunt Jenna? The woman who stopped her life to take care of us so we weren't orphans? So, next time you go to take a hit from a bong, think to yourself... Is it worth it? Because I promise you, I will be there every time to ruin your buzz. Got it?" Natalya said frantically. Jeremy couldn't think of what to say, his silence scared Natalya. Did she let her anger get the best of her? Did she go too far? Her thoughts were running wild. "I know who you are, Jer, and it's not this person," she said softly. She watched as his eyes softened then hardened again. "I don't need this," he said, storming away. Stefan left the office and strolled down the hallway, drawing the attention of other students as he passed by. Bonnie and Elena followed behind him, intrigued to learn more about the mysterious new kid. He headed towards the men's room just as the door swung open, and Natalya walked out, colliding with him. They bumped into each other, and Natalya felt herself falling, but then she felt arms around her, steadying her. She looked up at the person she ran into. "Oh god, I'm sorry, and great, I'm coming out of the men's room," she said, running her hand through her hair. "Ugh, it's not what it seems like," she added, feeling flustered. He was gorgeous, more Elena's type than hers. "Pardon me," he said, stepping back. Natalya made a funny face at his old-fashioned language. "So, the men's room?" he retorted. "Yes, I was..." Natalya sighed. "Long story." She tried to step around him but bumped into him again. "Sorry," she said, finally managing to walk around him.

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞!!

𝐎𝐦𝐠 𝐬𝐨 𝟒 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲!! 𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝟔 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢'𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬. 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬!!

𝐀𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐞 & 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭!!

𝐗𝐎𝐗𝐎 -

𝐌𝐢𝐚 ♡

𝐀𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 : 𝟎𝟐/𝟐𝟗/𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 : 𝐭𝐛𝐝

nyx’s nightfall chapter had to be postponed to TONIGHT… sorry my loves had a rough night 💋💋 sending so much love and hugs

hey soooooo tumblr isn’t letting me post my nsfw for logan and i’m getting really annoyed. if it’s not up tonight it will be tomorrow :(

but it let me post this? i’m annoyed.

update : it let me post it finally :)

fantasize ~ logan howlett

mood board for chap two, originally i was gunna have her cut her hair but idk lol

anyways it’s published now 💌

i could never be famous because the second i learned people were shipping me with someone i'd be making out with them as much as possible