Hey, for some reason when I click on Keep Reading your Logan x MC NSFW alphabet doesn't appear?
Gasp! Tumblr totally ate the post (that’s my ‘reward’ for tagging it properly). Thank you @zodiacsign1 !! I’m going to repost it here
Logan x MC NSFW Alphavet (Part 1, A-L)
Summary: Each of these contain a drabble/ficlet. This does not follow any timeline. Rating: NSFW, Mature, 18+Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong to Pixelberry. I’m borrowing them. A/N: Happy RoDAW, everyone!! Thank you to @desiree-0816 for suggesting this in the first place and to @choicesarehard for being my support beam for every single letter.
Thank you to everyone for all your love and support. I cherish every single reblog, comment, and like. You all make my world go round. If you like this, please consider a like, comment, and/or reblog.
Putting this all a behind a cut for NSFW reasons
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Locks of his silky, slightly damp chocolate brown hair wrapped around her fingers, twisting and gently tugging. A loud rumble interrupted the soft sounds of her breaths, slowing as they came down from their collective high. “El …” His warm breath ghosted the sensitive skin of her neck. A second, louder gurgle was her response. Swollen lips gently pressed behind her earlobe, on her cheek. “Babe … is that your stomach again?”
Ellie didn’t need to answer Logan’s question, his hand finding her soft belly, running large circles. “Mmm…” Her fingers curled deeper in his hair, short fingernails scratching his scalp. “Looks like I worked up an appetite again.”
“Come on.” She eyed the bed sheet falling dangerously low on Logan’s hips as he sat up. “I know where Toby keeps the really good brownies.”
“The one he claims is better than –” The rest of her question was muffled by the shirt she was pulling on.
“We’ll see about that.”
B = Body part (Their favourite body part of their partner’s)
“Logan, you’re staring.” Reaching towards her from across the table, he slowly ran a calloused thumb along the sensitive skin, making her shiver. “I can’t help it. They’re so beautiful.”Ellie leaned in closer. “There are other things you can do to them, you know.”“I know of just the thing.” His index finger joined his thumb before trailing down her chin and tilting her jaw up. Dipping his head, he captured her lips with his.
She’d studied page 392 of her human body and anatomy textbook ten? twelve? times sitting on a folding chair in the corner of the garage. The first time she lost her focus was when she glanced up to see him drinking out of his water bottle. His bicep, wait bicep brachii, flexed in that sort of way. Ellie shook her head. No, drinking water was not sexy.
But working on that car engine was. Leaning in, hands resting on the hood of the car, figuring out what to do next. His arms holding him up, more specifically his taut brachioradialis muscles holding him up, created distractions two through … screw it, Ellie closed her book, letting it fall to the floor with a thump.
Her chin was resting in her palm, watching him clean his hands. Her breath hitched when he dragged a clean shop rag along his forearms, over his flexor carpi ulnaris, pronator teres, palmaris longus, just to name a few muscles.
Taking out his headphones, he looked at Ellie and smiled, giving a small wave as he walked towards her. “Did you get your studying done?” Logan helped Ellie out of her chair, pulling her into him. She shook her head. “Want to take a break and go to Kelsos for lunch?”
“Actually. Can you help with one last thing?” Her fingertips grazed along his shockingly smooth elbow - the joint formed by his ulna, radius, and humerus. “Practical application of the test material?”
“What did you have in mind?”
Using the smooth wall of his loft as support, his arms looped under her knees to keep her lifted. The rhythm of their hips grew more erratic, the sounds from their mouths more unintelligible. Approaching her release, her hand slipped down his shoulder and clutched a contracted muscle. Swiping across the sweat-slick skin, her thumb found and pressed into that ever prominent, ever glorious … vein.
What was the name of that vein? She could trace it from memory but, for the life of her, could not remember what it was called.
He eased her to the floor. “So did that help, El?”
“Uh, yeah? I need to study for every exam like that.” Ellie buttoned her jeans, giving him a mischievous grin. “Now let’s get some fried …” Narrowing her eyes, she pointed at him. “What is that called again?”
Logan looked down at his arm. “My cephalic? vein?” She slapped a hand against her forehead. “I had to learn what it was called since you seem to like it so much.”
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)
Collapsing, finally releasing the tension he’d built up in her, Ellie fell back against the mattress, praising him along with an anonymous higher power. She couldn’t trust her legs to move on their own, trembling, locking his head in between her knees.
She watched, curiosity piqued, Logan remove his coated fingers from her depth, bringing them up to his lips. “Do you like doing that? There’s a towel on the nightstand.”
“Fuck, El.” He paused only to take his first finger in his mouth, slowly dragging it back out. “I love doing this. I’m in heaven right now.”
Releasing himself from her hold, he sat at the edge of the bed, licking his second finger clean. “What’s it like?”
“Like the best damn thing you’ve ever tasted.” A blush crept up her face, intensifying the crimson color on her cheeks. Logan smiled a wicked smile at her. “You want to try?” Her brows furrowed in confusion momentarily before she timidly nodded.
Forgoing the glass of water next to the towel allowed Ellie to taste herself on his lips, his teeth, his tongue. It wasn’t her favorite taste, tangy and not sweet enough. But Logan? Logan always tasted like heaven.
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
“Never have I ever …” Mona scanned the room, passing over Colt and Logan before settling on Ellie. “Not gotten a B on a test.”
Ignoring the snickering, Ellie took a drink of her piña colada wine cooler. Everyone else was on their second beers and her bottle remained mainly full.
“Never have I ever outrun the cops.” Logan, Mona, and Ellie took a sip.
All eyes were on Ellie. “Never have I ever … uh … fallen asleep at the movies?” Colt rolled his eyes, drinking out of his amber bottle.
“No more questions from Ellie.” Colt announced. He looked over at Mona who gave him a knowing look, the slightest hint of a smile curling at her lips. “Never have I ever gone down on someone in public.”
Playing with the wrapper of her bottle, Ellie tried not to panic. People lied during this game, right? She could lie. Taking a sudden interest in the manufacturing details of the drink, she tried to avoid the others, all taking swigs.
Mona cleared her throat, amusement in her eyes as she looked back and forth between Logan and Ellie. Both were doing a terrible job trying to be coy. “Ellie?”
Adrenaline from the latest successful job coursed through the entire crew. Hyrieus, on Mona’s suggestion, provided just the right atmosphere with loud music and bright lights. Grinding her hips against Logan wasn’t enough, it was making things worse. Especially as she felt his arousal against her backside, his hands toying with the zipper of the loud, neon top Mona leant her. Spinning her around, his mouth covered hers, stealing her breath, making her moan as his hand crept under her top, the zipper halfway down.
It still wasn’t enough. She needed to put that energy to good use.
The music of the rave barely penetrated the concrete hallways of the warehouse. The EDM beats provided a backdrop to Logan’s shallow breaths, deep groans, declarations of “fuck” alternating with her name. His hands were full of her hair, trying not to guide her head as she worked her mouth and tongue on him from her kneeling position.
Leaning against the wall, he was spent, mustering just enough energy to help her up. “How are you so good at that?” He whispered, close to her ear, bringing her into him. His fingers slipped under the orange fishnet stockings Ellie wore, making a mental note that he’d have to get Mona a new pair later.
“My secret.” She whispered back before he made her head fall back, moaning his name.
Logan, sensing how uncomfortable Ellie was, interjected. “My turn! Never have I ever kicked Salazar’s ass.”
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Pushing her nose against the front passenger window, Ellie stared out at 45th street. She wasn’t paying attention to Logan’s excited chatter, talking about the latest sideshow competitor. Preoccupied with the new competition’s techniques and formulating strategies on how to beat him in the next race, Logan didn’t even notice her lack of response.
While he was scoping out the race, Ellie noticed that one girl, then the other girl, all of the girls at the sideshow. Looking at him like that. Negativity monsters invaded her thoughts, telling her exactly what those looks meant. They were the same looks he gave her before reducing her to puddle, only capable of saying his name.
She hadn’t realized they were close to the garage until Logan parked. “Thanks for the quadruple grilled cheese. Goodnight.” Quickly, she opened the door.
Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her back into the Devore GT. “Are you alright, babe?” She avoided eye contact. “Did I do something to make you mad at me?”
“No. I, uh, I have to go home and read my notes for my literature exam. Much Ado About Nothing.” Pushing aside those negativity gremlins, she allowed herself to lean in to kiss him goodbye.
And allowed him to deftly pull her over the console into his lap. The monster taunts resurfaced just to quiet down when their kiss deepened, lips parting to allow their tongues to meld. The invading thoughts disappeared when he tugged down her black tube top, his calloused thumb teasing her now exposed, hardening nipple.
“Stay for a bit.” Kisses trailed down her neck towards his thumb. “I’ll help you study.”
At the moment his warm breath and wet tongue met her sensitive peak, something ignited. Not the kind of spark Ellie expected but one that brought back those negative thought monsters. “Logan. Stop.” Perplexed, he exhaled and helped her adjust her clothes. Ellie took a deep breath, looking him straight in his warm, deep brown eyes. “Just. I … did you … all those girls?”
“All which girls?” Genuine confusion was apparent on his face.
Ellie’s speech was quick, frazzled. “The girls at the sideshow. They all just act, like. There are so many of them. Then there’s just me. I’m not like them. And I’ve only been with you.” Logan just blinked. “You’re so good at this, doing this in your car and like, did you do this with all of them?”
“Calm down, El.” She nodded, fully inhaling and exhaling. “Not all of them. Some of them.” Ellie’s heart sank and she made a face, visibly dejected. “But it’s different. Don’t confuse what I didn’t have with them with what I have with you.”
Those negative thoughts instantly vanished, Logan’s response instantly replaying in her head. “What do you have with me?”
Reaching up, he brushed the auburn hair that fell into her eyes. “If you look in the console, there’s half a dozen of those Milk Jar chocolate chip cookies you like so much. You want to do a study abroad in Sweden so you can immerse yourself in a new language. You’d eat waffles for every meal if you could. Your favorite activity with your Mom was going to a bee farm.”
“Logan …” Ellie rested her forehead against his. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Talk to me about anything.” Cupping her chin, Logan kissed her gently. “What we have now is completely new to me.” A wide smile formed across her face and it was her turn to kiss him. “El, I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest.” The third kiss lasted much longer, leaving them breathless. He smirked. “You know, I kinda like it when you’re jealous.”
“Shut up, Logan.” Ellie rolled her eyes before peppering his neck with kisses. “Just keep talking more Shakespeare and kissing me.”
F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)
Taking hold of her leg, he ran his hand down her shin before draping it over his shoulder. Logan adjusted on his knees, sinking his face even deeper into her core.
“Oh my God … Logan ….” Her fingers unclutched the bedsheets and searched for his hair to get lost in.
The tugs on his locks only slightly hurt but it was the best sort of pain, especially combined with the feeling of her warm, velvety skin. Lazily, he traced his tongue along her folds, dipping into hidden crevices. Ellie begged him not to stop, he had no intention of doing that. She begged him to go deeper, his fingers slipped into her.
Those moans sounded so good, Ellie felt so damn good, she tasted so fucking good. He felt the familiar twitch, the strain from his erection was becoming almost too much to bear. God, he wanted to bury himself inside her but not yet, not until she asked. In the meantime, he started to stroke, matching up the timing with his ministrations.
“Logan … please …” He looked up at her, head tilted back, chest heaving, long brown hair hanging behind her shoulders.
He knew what she wanted. Pulling back, he wiped his cheek against his shoulder. “Tell me what you want. I need to hear you say it, baby.”
“Oh God … I need …” Parting her legs even further, his tongue focused its efforts on her swollen nerves, his eyes watching her react. Ellie was always so beautiful but even more so in moments like those. Lifting her head back up, opening her lust-filled eyes, she met his gaze. “Fuck me, Logan.”
There was something about the way she’d ask it, a mix of desperation and confidence, that drove him wild. But first, he had to make her unravel and oh, how she came apart.
Sitting next to her on the edge of his bed, he grabbed the back of her head, kissing her deeply. “Where do you want me, El?” Her eyes, half opened and dark, scanned his body as she bit her lip. “Do you want me to drive, do you want to go for a ride?”
Any way he could have her worked for him but above all, he loved driving, literally and metaphorically. Being able to witness up close how well he could pleasure her, give her anything she desired, tell her how much he loved her as their slick bodies moved together, creating heat and friction. Most and best of all, he enjoyed Ellie falling into pieces beneath him.
Gently, she put her hands on his chest and pushed him onto his back. “I want to go for a ride but give me the keys, I’m driving.”
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
Staring at the ceiling, arms folded behind his head, Logan tried to focus on the heat emanating off of Ellie, hovering over his body. Tried to focus on her lips gently brushing over him - his neck, shoulder, chest. On her lubricated hand loosely wrapped around him, slowly moving up and down. He couldn’t.
It wasn’t just because he wanted to touch her. Make her moan that long, sultry moan and say his name. That afternoon, Ellie made him promise to just let her do all the work. Which was great at first.
Closing his eyes, he tried to block out the …
Giggle. That was the fourth time she giggled. The first was when she kissed his right shoulder; second followed a slow run of her tongue over his left nipple; third involved kissing down his torso as her hand picked her stroke speed. The fourth giggle erupted after leaving him a small bruise on what she affectionately called his ‘Adonis belt’.
“God, you’re so hot …” She bent her head close to his, kissing him. Their lips moving together, his mouth swallowing her soft moans, her busy hand, all worked together to get him lost in pleasure. “Logan …” that whisper sent shivers through him.
“You’re amazing, El.” He replied, voice husky, in between kisses.
The giggling started again, Logan could feel the vibrations of her laugh. Ignoring her earlier request, Logan placed his hands on her shoulders. “You really don’t like following the rules, do you?” She paused long enough to ask.
“What is so funny, El?”
Her eyes widened. “Oh man. Sorry. Nothing. Nothing is funny.” Not buying what she said, he gave her a skeptical look. Guilt washed over her face, making her bite her lip and let go of him. “Okay, fine! I was thinking of what you said that one time!”
“Did I make a really funny joke? Because I can’t seem to get Mona to laugh at them.”
Covering her mouth, she tried to stifle any more laughter. “Remember when you told me you weren’t a piece of meat?” He shook his head. “When we did the strip study session!”
“Yeah, I was focused on learning world history.” That and the fact that he couldn’t forget about melting Kaneko’s car. Continuing the study game would have resulted in spending the entire night naked with her.
Ellie rolled her eyes. “Anyway.” She tapped his shoulder. “This is like a chuck roast.” An index finger traced down his body. “Tenderloin. Tri tip.” Reaching his hip, she squeezed behind it, taking him by surprise. “Filet mignon. Because your butt is just so cute.”
Logan blinked at her in confusion, and Ellie paused, chewing her upper lip and gently raking her fingers over his torso, looking embarrassed. “Hey, El.” Logan tilted her tucked chin with his fingers, waiting for her to glance over at him. “Which member of the Knights of the Round Table only ate meat?”
“Sir …” The bashfulness dissipated and her mouth stretched into a smile. “Sir Loin!” A beat of silence hung between the pair before they dissolved into laughter.
Once they calmed down, Logan was able to focus on Ellie making good on her plan to make the afternoon all about him.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
Ellie sat down slowly next to Logan, her face a bit flushed. Logan raised an eyebrow at her, watching her. “What were you and Mona up to?”Her flush turned into a full blush. “We - I - got something done.”He leaned towards her, inspecting the skin. “Another tattoo?”“Uh. No.” She stood up. “Lay back, but don’t laugh, okay?”He laid back on his bed, propping himself on his elbows. “You know I won’t laugh. I swear.”Sighing, she stepped in between his knees. Her face was hot, red as a tomato. His eyebrows raised as she looped her thumbs in the waistband of her shorts. Logan’s eyes widened as those shorts, along with her underwear, fell to the floor. “Ta da?”He mouth moved in an attempt to create words but no words came out. Sitting up, he sat on the edge of his bed. “Uh … wow.”“So … “ Ellie placed her hands on his shoulders. “Can we uh … do stuff? Try it out?” He asked, his eyes glued in place.A nervous giggle escaped her lips. “Sorry. We have to wait. Maybe Saturday?”
It’d been a solid ten minutes of Ellie examining the ends of her hair. Every time Logan glanced at her from his book, he was increasingly worried her eyes would stay crossed. “What are you doing, El?”“Split ends.” She mumbled. He set down his book and gestured towards the bathroom. “I have a pair of scissors. I’ll trim your hair for you.”Looking over at him, she blinked to relieve her eye strain. If there was anything else he knew besides cars and driving, it was flawless hair. Crouching under the sink, she rummaged, past the overstock of hair products until she found a kit. “Aha!” It had exactly what she needed.Logan did a double take when she came back in the room, holding up the kit like a prize. She pulled out a pair of small scissors. “Here you go!” She bounced towards him, plopping on the bed. “Where did you find this?” He asked, taking the small bag. “Back of the cabinet?” She nodded. “The ones I was talking about are in the drawer.”“Oh!” She pointed at the bag. “So what’s all that for? I’ve never seen you with an electric razor.”“Well.” He darted his eyes down. “It’s not for my face.” She followed his eyes, staring at his lap. “Oh. Oh!”’“El?” He waved a hand in front of her face.“Split ends can wait.” She declared, throwing her arms around him, crashing her lips onto his.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)
You’re not real. You can’t still be real. Every social convention, from magazines to television to her best friend, told her they’d lose their spark. That they’d fall into a routine, become mundane.
Lying on her stomach, propped up by a bent elbow, Ellie traced her love of six year’s lips. The soft pads of her index and middle fingers ran along the cupid’s bow of Logan’s upper lip one way then another. Though he’d shut his eyes half an hour before, Logan was only half asleep, still aware of her light touch.
Taking her hand, he brought her wrist to his mouth. Slightly puckering his lips, he kissed her palm, knuckles, the tips of her fingers. “Missed you, El …” Slowly, Logan rolled over onto his side and with a deep breath, drawing Ellie into his strong chest. “Tell me about your day.”
She spoke about her day, he massaged her shoulders. Ellie looked around their bedroom taking note of the soft lights and music, Logan helped her out of her clothes. “Did you have a good day, Logan?”
It was a great day, he responded, filling her in as his calloused hand ghosted along her curves. Ellie’s responses were monosyllabic, shaky, breathless. She could barely get a coherent sentence out, feeling his breath on her neck, one hand kneading her breast, the other gently separating her thighs.
“Logan, please …” Ellie tried to get closer, pushing her hips back into him.
“I’ve got you.” His low, smooth voice was in her ear, quieting her sharp inhale when their bodies connected. At a slow pace at first, their hips rocked together. “Does that feel good, El?” She nodded. A warm sensation filled her lower abdomen as his fingers applied pressure against her, making her moan his name repeatedly. “You’re so incredible, baby.” Quickening his pace made it harder for him to speak but that didn’t deter him from giving her more sweet assurances.
“Oh, God … right there … that’s so good.” Was all she could communicate.
Breathless, they separated after they’d both tumbled over the edge. Six years later and it was still just as nice as their first times together but even better as they continued to learn each other’s bodies. Ellie flipped to face him, a large smile plastered on her face. Logan brushed her hair away from her forehead. “I still can’t believe you’re here, Ellie. I’m the luckiest guy on the planet.”
J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)
The plan was to lazily lounge on Logan’s couch, forgoing any work or studying for the afternoon. With her feet resting on Logan’s knees, Ellie aimlessly scrolled through her Pictagram. A picture of Riya with her eyes crossed in front of a sundae; Tim?Josh? Holding up a medal; Brent standing in front of his newest sports car; Riya and Darius with their faces smashed together.
The students at Mar Vista Prep were attractive, people in LA were generally beautiful. But Logan? Even in a million years, Ellie would never find anyone whose dark eyes would make her melt or whose smile would make her forget what she was saying. Sometimes she found it hard to look at him, especially when a strand of hair fell out of place, his crazy good looks bouncing off of him like bright rays of sunshine.
Between the selfie and Logan her eyes darted. Logan, preoccupied, didn’t seem to notice that or her foot dragging back and forth along his thigh. She watched as he fiddled with some small piece of engine which had been sitting on the coffee table for the past week. Turning the metal in his hands, he studied it with the same intensity he studied her the first day they met. Letting her phone drop, she reminisced about night.
Ellie was buzzed on adrenaline, hands shaking, sitting in Logan’s car. One second she was praying that she’d survive the ride home, the next she was concentrating on Logan’s mouth. Slowly coming in to meet hers, closing their gap. Wow, what a first kiss. God, what a second kiss - his full, surprisingly smooth lips guiding hers into something so spectacular.
That night, alone in her house, she continued her series of firsts: first party, first time running from the cops, first time kissing anyone. Visualizing him, faintly smelling leather and that nice cologne from the mall, tasting the minty flavor of his tongue, Ellie explored herself. As her tightened coil snapped, she mumbled his name, shocked at how naturally it came. Since then, she’d indulge in the activity when stressed or whenever he wouldn’t escape her thoughts. For the most part, it was the latter.
“El?” Logan put away the engine part and directed her to look at her foot, fully in his lap, running slow circles. Startled, Ellie scrambled to sit up, tucking her feet underneath her. Logan flashed a smile, one that weakened her whole body. “You didn’t have to stop doing that.” Patting the space beside him, he beckoned her and in just a few movements, she ended up in his lap. Ellie felt slightly awkward, not saying anything. “What were you thinking about?”
“I - uh …” Tilting his head, waiting for her to finish her sentence, Logan took hold of her braid, slipping out the tie at the end. He gently loosened her hair, bringing her nearer, and kissed her cheek. Shivers ran up her spine as she felt his breath along her jaw. Without thinking, her hands found themselves undoing his belt. “You.”
“What about me?” He growled, teeth grazing her earlobe. Fluttering her eyes shut, she continued to unfasten his jeans. “Keep going, El.”
Nodding, her hands slipped into his boxer briefs. “Do you, uh …” Her thumb circled the tip of his growing erection and the groan released was like music to her ears. “You do this?”
“Yeah …” Slowly, her fingers teased him as he talked, confessing that he was always needing to release energy, especially after a race. “Most mornings …when I’m bored which isn’t often … after a job …” Ellie, consumed with what was blooming beneath her hand, barely heard him continue with, “Especially when I’m thinking about you.”
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
The car ride to the garage from the sideshow was uncharacteristically tense. At least between Logan and Ellie, his teeth clenched as he tightly gripped the steering wheel and her with a subtle grin on her face. Toby, sitting in the backseat, was animatedly gushing about the race. Logan had won, again, and Toby attributed it to the latest technology added to the Devore GT.
Neither of them interrupted, letting him continue. They both were aware of Logan’s real motivation for winning.
Ellie hopped out of the car when they arrived, rushing inside in an attempt to beat Logan to his loft. “Where’s your boyfriend?” Colt, who’d opted out of watching his favorite golden boy, was sitting in the break room with a large pizza box. “Finally ditch him after losing the race?” Sitting down next to him, Ellie picked a piece of pepperoni off Colt’s still warm slice and looked over towards Logan. Shrugging, she tried not to laugh at Logan, to whom Toby was talking at, glancing in her direction every few seconds.
Finally, Logan was able to break away and walk towards Ellie and Colt who were now sharing the pizza. More like Colt was conceding his crusts to Ellie. Stopping in front of them, hands on his hips, Logan barely acknowledged Colt as he glared at Ellie. “I need to talk to you, Eleanor.”
Colt snickered, picking up another slice of pizza, amused by what was transpiring in front of him. “Full name, huh? Trouble in paradise for our little lovebirds already?” The pair completely ignored him as they left the room.
The door to Logan’s loft wasn’t yet closed when Ellie was backed up against it. Their fingers interlocked and were pinned back against the wall as Logan’s mouth attacked her neck, nipping and leaving faint bite marks down to her collarbone. “You were amazing out there, Logan. Must have really paid attention—” Any remaining words were swallowed when he kissed her, deep and long.
“Let me see it.” He demanded, voice dropping an octave, husky. Logan always appreciated Ellie’s pep talks before races despite them not being necessary. This time, she just slipped a folded piece of paper in his hand, gave him a wink, and joined Toby in the car. She’d written him ‘good luck’ notes for past races but this time, the discreet cover housed a picture taken with Ximena’s instant camera.
It was of Ellie. Hair down. Wearing something. He had a second to analyze it under the fluorescent light of the garage but that something was definitely lacy and see-through. In her excellent cursive penmanship read, ‘Win by at least 15 seconds
Free of his grip, Ellie started to tug at her top. Logan, arm resting on the wall, shook his head. “Not so fast, Troublemaker.” Crossing the room backwards, he sat on the edge of his bed. “You’re not the only one who likes to watch someone strip.”
Fair point. Ellie always did make him slowly remove his clothes to a song of her choosing. “Alright.” Pulling out her phone, she quickly found a song. “Because you’ve … earned it.”
Generally, she’d feel self conscious but not that night. Not the way he leaned back, the way his eyes darkened, narrowing as he watched her. Stepping in between Logan’s knees, Ellie combed his hair back with her fingers as she slowly swayed her hips to the beat of the music. Tilting his head up, her lips brushed against his, retracting as he tried to capture them. She stood up and slowly peeled her top over her head.
It was better than he imagined. The lace of her bra was sheer, very sheer. His hand was slapped away when he attempted to touch her, Ellie reminding him to keep to himself. Her shorts fell to the floor as she swung her hips, revealing a gauzy, flowy short skirt. “Fuck …” He sucked in a breath as she let his eyes wash over her, the cream colored lingerie barely concealing anything.
Turning in a circle, she giggled at Logan’s whistle followed by a “Jesus Christ, El,” when he saw that the skirt ended right above her ass. Salivating, he stared as long as she allowed, reminding himself to not touch.
Ellie stopped, facing him and knelt on the bed, pressing her lips to his briefly. A jolt of electricity crackled through her as he ran the rough lace of her bra over her sensitive nipples. “Fuck, El … can I?”
“God. Yes.” Logan fell back on the bed, pulling her over him. He adjusted to take a hardened peak of her breast into his mouth, biting at the fabric.
Ellie gasped, arching her back slightly when she felt him move the thin stripe of fabric between her legs to the side, running his fingers along her wet folds. Getting lost in a lust-filled daze, Ellie rode the fingers he sunk into her.
On instinct, she reached behind her back to unhook the bra. “Don’t.” He commanded. “Keep it on all night.”
L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)
“Do you want to take this upstairs?” Logan slurred his question against Ellie’s lips, knowing what her answer would be. She had no intention of leaving the living room couch, punctuated by her red leather jacket hitting the hardwood floor.
Ellie paused their kiss to answer with a simple, “No.” The garage was empty, unusual for a Wednesday night. Earlier, Toby announced that a special showing of The Last Duchess was playing at the drive-in theatre. He insisted the entire crew carpool to watch his favorite period piece.
Halfway through the movie, Logan was watching Ellie instead, mouthing every line verbatim while her eyes, wide with wonder, were set on the large screen. The soft kiss on her jaw was followed by one on her neck. When the swell of romantic music caused Ellie to crash their lips together, Colt evicted them from the backseat.
They’d be alone for a few hours.
Abandoning her lips, he gently nipped her earlobe before speaking in hushed tones. “We could get caught, El.” Her dark, auburn hair bunched in his hands was released, giving way to running his palms down her body, stopping once to cup her breasts, stopping a second time to grab her thighs resting on either side of him.
Steadying herself on the furniture behind him, Ellie resisted being lifted. She wasn’t necessarily shy with public displays of affection, it actually gave her a thrill. The potential to be caught doing anything else was a bit out of her comfort zone. His warning, though, that made her skin tingle with excitement. “Do you have a better place in mind?” Tilting her head away from him, she invited him to leave a mark on her, anywhere he wanted.
Her tone was challenging, Logan would have to make a good argument to get her upstairs. Truthfully, he had no issue with their location, he’d have Ellie any place she’d let him. There were just certain places he preferred. Licking along her collarbone, he stopped just beneath and gently broke her skin, leaving an early bruise. “I have a few.”
Under his white shirt, her small hands rose against his flat torso to lift his shirt up, tossing it towards her jacket on the floor. “Tell me why they’re better than this couch.” Each one of his exposed muscles flexed in response to her wandering fingers. “Make a good argument.”
“Alright.” Hiking her black skirt up to her hips, Logan ghosted his fingers along her inner thigh, stopping when he met the band of her cotton underwear. “The couch upstairs isn’t just comfortable for sleeping.” Ellie shuddered at the light touch he provided, grazing her skin under the fabric. “The leather here is too slippery.”
“I’ll hold tight.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she slightly rocked her hips against him, needing more friction. “This feels … just fine …”
His free hand snuck up her shirt, fingers walking up her spine until he back strap of her bra, expertly unhooking it. “Could you do me a favor?” Ellie breathed out a ‘yes’. “Take these off?” Startled, Ellie raised an eyebrow at him. “Just want to picture how’d you look against the wall.” She contemplated his poor excuse.
Ellie grabbed the hem of her shirt and glanced behind her. She thought about getting caught. The rush of excitement coupled with her hips grinding harder against the fingers that went in deeper was intoxicating. Anyone could walk in at that moment and she wouldn’t care. “There’s wall behind me right now.” The pile on the floor grew larger with the addition of her clothes.
Taking a moment to admire her bare form, Logan licked his lips before leaning into her chest. Ellie’s head fell back, her breath quickened when his tongue slowly circled her nipple. “See … we … oh my God.” Focusing on her most sensitive places, he was overwhelming her. Ellie could feel herself start to crumble.
After final swipes from his fingers and tongue, Logan released himself from Ellie, smiling at her pout. “I have one more argument. Lay on your back.” He eased her off of him, helping her lay down. Making a point, he awkwardly laid on his stomach, placing himself in between the knees he parted. “My favorite place is actually my bed.”
“Not your car?” Dragging his lips across her inner thigh caused her to take in a sharp breath.
“Not for this purpose.” A few kisses were placed en route to her core. “My bed is soft … we won’t stick to the sheets like we will to these seats.” Several more kisses followed. “My bed smells like you …” Ellie could hardly breath as he got even closer to his destination. “I have all the room I need …” He moved her inside leg to the side, letting it knock into the cushion. “Unlike here. Totally restricted.”
Ellie lifted her head, giving him a quizzical look. “To do what?”
He took a hold of her underwear, slipping it down her legs, replacing the cotton with his tongue against her wet folds. “To properly fuck you, El.”
Damnit. Well, Ellie couldn’t be mad at him winning their debate, his tongue felt that damn good against her. “Logan?” There was no answer. “Logan. Please …”
Temporary pause. “Yes?”
“Upstairs. Now.” Chuckling to himself, Logan stood up and picked up Ellie, hoisting her over his shoulder before heading towards the stairs.
Part 2 coming soon!
Tagging a few who may want to read (and I’m sorry for the double tag but eh, you’ll still love me, right? Blame fumblr): @choiceslife @desiree-0816 @lizeboredom @bhavf @lovehugsandcandy @leelee10898 @twin-skltns @choicesarehard @domesticatedantelope @queenkaneko @politicallycorrectinnocentteen
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(1.3.19. 9:37 pm. in my room.)
I want to start by saying that I loved you, and at the time of writing this, I even still do. I find it appalling that me, someone who’s never really had as much as a crush, somehow fell deep over the internet. I always thought that kind of relationship was unrealistic and was bound to fail. Too many barriers, I guess. But, nevertheless, you managed to get me to fall in love with you.
I suppose it started when I first heard your voice. Over discord, I was sitting at my desk in my dorm, too afraid and shy to turn on my mic. My face heated up when you spoke. I liked your voice. I didn’t think much of you before then; I saw you as just another pervert from my blog. You did send me money - which was nice - but while cash wins my attention, my attachment and affection aren’t inherently included. And I thought you were generically long haired white dude attractive, if that makes sense. Not exactly my type, but not really something I’d turn down because of aesthetics. But hearing you talk was a turning point.
After that, it snowballed. I fell into what I like to call your ‘trap’. You offered me lots of attention, often, and I liked it. You held the perfect balance between confident and more experienced, and nervous and jittery because you were chatting with an e-girl. You charmed me with the whole ‘I don’t think most people think, but you seem like you do’ fake deep bullshit (which I sort of agree with, so I guess I’m fake deep too). On tumblr, messaging you seemed more nervous. More of, dare I say, a sub. I think you mentioned once that you preferred to sub. I guess that’s why I was unprepared and surprised by how much power you seemed to have over me.
I submitted naturally. You spoke of things like you were above them, like you knew everything you had to know and didn’t give a shit about anything else. I usually hate those sorts of traits in people, but for you it made me all the more intrigued and... well, submissive. I felt small, young, inexperienced, and admittedly a little dumb. In more than one way, I liked that. You made me feel like I was too small to do anything, so you would take care of it instead. This dynamic of ours and my just-a-level-below-ddlg daddy kink matched perfectly.
The first maybe.. month felt like a dream. They call it the honeymoon phase, right? I was infatuated with you. Well, I was infatuated with Daddy. He made me feel so good, so loved, so safe. I can still feel the heat that grew in my chest when you’d call me things like ‘kitten’, ‘love’, and ‘good girl’. I liked being your girl. I liked fucking myself on my bright pink-purple dildo for you. I liked watching you watch me do what you said. I’m quite sure we only video chatted three times (thrice, if you will), but every time was exciting, thrilling, and fun. At least for me.
You were always a mystery to me. Then, and even now, I never knew exactly who you were. You proclaimed yourself to be narcissistic, manipulative, and an overall asshole. I never thought any of those things, but maybe you made sure to keep it that way. Or maybe I was just too enamored of you to see it. I could never tell how you were feeling, especially towards me. This was, excuse me for the cliche, the beginning of the end.
After the first month or so, you had days in and out of the ER, and then back-to-back you were busy with work. This was new, for me, because before you were messaging me first nearly every day. Giving me the ‘proper’ attention that I craved. Once this period of time started, where we would talk less frequently and I took on the task of texting first, the paranoia began.
I became convinced you didn’t like me as much as you used to, not nearly as much. It started off as a small thought in the back of my mind, but eventually grew and took over my brain. I would say goodnight and good morning most days, and often I never got a response. I would send a text and you wouldn’t get back to me in hours, sometimes days. But, usually, you eventually replied. I usually managed to pull a short text or two out of you. I was content with this, for the time being. You’d call me once every week and a half, maybe. I tried my best to be okay with this.
After all, I wasn’t your girlfriend. I repeated this in my head like a mantra. Part of me believed you when you said you loved me back, when you called me your girl. Another part of me thought it was stupid, and that you were just my sugar daddy, and I was just your sugar baby.
But that didn’t make much sense when I thought about it. You hadn’t sent me money or items in weeks. Yes, at one point you were hospitalized and then got fired and whatnot, but even in the time in between, I was never offered more money or gifts. Not that I really wanted those things anyways, all i ever really wanted was your attention and time.
For the record, I know I’m dramatic. I blew a lot of things out of proportion in my mind and it’s a thing I need to work on. But what made this worse was never knowing what you thought about me. Even now, I have no idea what your true intentions were with me, and if this was one of your manipulative tricks or if you were genuinely invested in me.
I was invested in you. I was planning on saving my virginity for you, whatever that’s worth. I thought about you a lot. I thought about meeting you, touching you, loving you. I turned down more than a handful of guys because I only had eyes for you. I really let myself become vulnerable. Probably too vulnerable.
Over a week before I send you what I like to refer as the ‘Discord DM of Doom’, I sent you a text and you never responded. The anxiety was bad at that point; it was terrible, actually. I became to acknowledge myself as an annoying gremlin because I double texted you so often. I also began to resent you a bit, as paranoia does that to you.
On Christmas day, i sent you a slightly passive aggressive ‘Merry Christmas :-)’ text. It never sent. A long held fear started weighing down on me: you blocked my number. I sent another text the next day or so, still nothing. I was trying my best not to collapse at this point. I told myself I was being dramatic, and that you probably were on a trip with no service.
But then, when I opened discord to chat with a friend, I saw the green little dot by your icon. How were you playing - presumably online - but my texts weren’t sending? I immediately assumed that my fear was true, and that you blocked my number.
I was angry. I was sad. I was blinded by my emotions and hardened after weeks of vying for your attention with no real success. So I did my form of lashing out, by sending the Dm of Doom, ‘we’re done right ? thanks for the 2 pounds of lollipops bro’.
This was me trying to sound unaffected. Indifferent. When in reality, my blood was boiling and my heart was aching.
You responded with the “what? I just got back from a trip? what did i miss?”
I was furious. Over a week without even trying to reach out to me, and I find out you were just on a trip. My ‘bro. lmao’ was a mix of anger, disbelief, and also,, relief. I wasn’t up for going into detail about how I was feeling, nor did I really want to talk to you. So I didn’t, I didn’t even think about it for a few days.
And, surprise, you never replied. But this time it came with a bonus knife to the heart: I was blocked. On everything.
In the moment, I was crushed. Devastated. Destroyed. My heart split in two and I swear I’ve never really felt anything like it. I balled my eyes out. I hated you for going so low and not even bothering to try to talk it through. I desperately tried to message you, even though i knew it would never send. I send that tumblr message the night it all went down, as apparently you abandoned the blog not long after we started talking. I’m now still debating if I should try and call you, but I’m too afraid.
I’m too afraid to find out that I was right, that you never really cared, you never went on a trip, you just blocked my number and forgot to get rid of me everywhere else. That I was, indeed, just a toy, and that everything you said was a lie. And now you’ll post screen recordings of our video chatting and earn a few bucks off of it.
I’m also too afraid to find out that you did love me, and now with those messages I sent I hurt you too. You blocked me in reaction and now want nothing to do with me. Which, I guess I get.
But, Bryce, you’ve broken me. I’ve cried myself to sleep nearly every night since I found out you left without a word. I haven’t been this depressed in years. I hate myself for falling for you, and I hate even more that it ended this way.
I miss you so fucking much, more than you can imagine. I really let you take over my world and I guess this is the consequence. And I loved you so much, so intensely. And part of me still does. I guess I’m now in the process of trying to kill that part of me, but it sucks and hurts and I’d much rather have you.
But you caused me a lot, albeit lesser, pain those months we were talking. Being far apart takes its toll and a part of me knew this couldn’t last.
But I really wanted us to work, Bryce. Whether you are reading this and laughing, or if you’re actually upset as well, I loved you. And I’ll miss you.