#cis afab reader

You had been teaching for a few months, having started at the beginning of the school year, and living in the faculty dorms within the mansion. Every day you remain human, teaching techniques and body positioning for your students to develop the correct body movements. Many students thought you were trying to kill them but it made you laugh. You were not as hard as your instructors or parents by any means but you expected practice and their skills to improve.

You even started having mandatory evening practice for your students to help make sure they did indeed practice. Some were natural, thanks to their agility and coordination, and some had to work for it. You were more than happy to aid them any way you could.

A few weeks ago you began to notice that Logan would drop by in the evening during practice to watch until you told him to leave.

The very first time it happened you could smell him, knowing Logan’s scent. The hairs on the back of your neck and arms rose as if a predator lurked and your tiger grew protective of the cubs in your care. Continuing instruction, you looked around with only your eyes until they landed on the rugged, handsome beast of a man, Logan. It surprises you sometimes how he was a history professor, but then again, for those who knew you were a tiger, they’d probably feel much the same way about you. You became hyper aware of his presence across the way. Curious why he was there to begin with. When you saw his eyes sweep across the room at the different students’ practicing their movements, you grew curiouser.

He was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, watching as if looking for something. You could feel them from time to time on you and the sweep across your form. It made you mentally chuckle, only piquing your curiosity further. You could feel his eyes when you were explaining different forms before showing them to the students who would try to mimic it but we’re not as aware of their body wholly yet as you had with a century of practice. This goes on for quite some time with your tiger pacing inside your mind, watching him, and it begins to drive you insane, the pacing. You check on a few students who are practicing near him before quietly walking over to him with a raised brow.

“Shoo,” you deadpan with a wave of your hand at him. You had to hold back the purr from your very interested tigress as his scent became stronger. God, did he smell so good.

He inhaled deeply, smirking, and gave a single nod. Your heart rate increased at that smirk, never having seen it before on him. Logan was beautiful and sometimes a tad flirty (so was Remy despite being married) but you try not to play where you work.

Gritting your teeth and ignoring your tigress who was now showing their belly, the traitor. You give a stern look as you inform, “You’re distracting my class.”

He tilted his head, his eyes looking over your face as he seemed to breathe evenly. “Good job, bub,” he replied, a smirk still on his features as he stood away from the doorway and walked away with a few glances back. You watched him leave, enjoying now his form moved revealing his athleticism and agility.

It frustrated you to no end since he tended to distract the class being mostly females, but secretly, you liked the attention and audience. It made you feel like maybe he was flirting with you so you’d try to flirt back as best you could with being professional.

One evening you felt daring, you called out to him, “Mr. Howlett.” Like usual, he was leaning with crossed arms against the doorframe of the dance studio watching in a plain t-shirt stretched across his arms and pectorals emphasizing them. His waist tapered into blue jeans held by a leather belt and boots. He raised an eyebrow and remained silent. “Would you come here and help me for a few moments?”

The corner of his lips just barely turned up, a smile that could be easily missed by any who did not know Logan well, or like you observed him in detail. It helps to have your classroom across the hall from his.

He calmly walks over to you and stands about a foot away. You tilt your head and squint your eyes, walk over to him with a small smile on her lips. “I need to demonstrate a

You’ve had to admit to yourself and tigress that you have a crush on him since you met. His scent caught you first, warm, earthy, sweet, smoky much like tobacco and a top-shelf whiskey. You had to stop yourself from growling when it hit your nose. His soft eyes and smile, even if it is a professional one, made you want to swoon on the spot and wrap yourself in his arms. The man is built and wonder what it feels like to be wrapped around him. Bet he gives great hugs.

Logan was a hunk and you’d give him a tongue bath if he let you. Not that anyone knew that or needed to know. A crush was a crush and you were here to work.

What you didn’t know at the time was Logan was trying to assess your combat skill level and how much training you may need. You grew to expect him and even enjoy his presence, complimenting the students before you would remind him it is a closed practice. Then one evening, Logan didn’t show which surprised you. You ignored the discomfort caused by the lack of him near and continued with practice.

The next morning when you awoke, you are called into Charles’ office to find the X-men there. Your heart raced, felt jittery, and nervous. A sudden growl ripped from your throat unexpectedly. Your eyes widened, cheeks darkened. “I am so sorry,” you pleaded.

“It’s ok. They were just leaving. Come sit,” Charles waved you over to sit at the chair in front of his desk. You watched the X-men leave except for Logan who remained leaning against the wall.

“Do you remember our conversation when you first began to teach?” He asks.

You smile. “Of course. You were excited to offer the course from a classically trained ballerina who had multiple certifications. You recommended a few extracurriculars for me to try,” you reply.

“I did,” he agrees. “Do you remember what else we discussed?”

Your brow furrowed as you thought back. “You had mentioned that with my particular skill set and mutation adding to it would be beneficial for…missions,” you quietly stated. Your heart picked up again.

“That is why I have had Logan watch your practices to get a feel of your level of combat readiness,” Charles explains. You turn around and look at him, frowning. “Really?” Logan shrugged nonchalantly before you turned back to Charles.

“You could have just asked,” you turn back to Charles and speak firmly, trying to hide your irritation at the hidden agenda.

“I had hoped you would make friends with other staff,” he continues. “When I did ask, many didn’t have much to say to you other than rejected offers to go out.”

You sighed heavily and stood up. Your tiger was upset and wanted to leave or attack. “Charles, I’m a Siberian tiger. We are a solitary species and choose when we want to be around others.”

“You are more than your mutation.” Charles came around his desk and looked up at you. He could be quite intimidating when he wanted to be. Pursing your lips and cock your hip.

“I am happy to aid on missions and train and whatever else you think would be good to protect the school and mutants, but if you need to know something about me, ask me.” You growled the last two words before quickly leaving his office.

You head back to your room, pacing irritated. Your tiger was itching to come topside wanting to take your frustration out on your room. You hated this. It took a lot for anyone to get under your skin. This is why being a loner was easier than having to be around people. You sit on your bed and sit with how you feel. You allowed your tiger to growl, roar, and move in your mind. You could feel your hand try to shift periodically but you quickly regained control. Once you felt calmer, you headed to your first class and started your day.

That afternoon, however, you had canceled practice. Your tiger needed to come out. Back in your room, you stripped naked and opened the window, looking to make sure there was no one around. You were on the second story and shifted before jumping down. Easily landing on your paws, you head out towards the forest and spend the whole afternoon and some of the evening there. You decided to eat a few squirrels and birds, enjoying the hunt, instead of attending dinner.

You returned that evening, heading towards the mansion still in your tiger form, and stopped to drink from the lake. You didn’t expect company. As the footsteps grew closer, you inhaled and knew it was Logan’s familiar scent. He walked up to your side and inhaled. He hummed appreciatively.

“So, this is your tiger, bub?” Logan asked, amused as he lit a cigar.

You look up at him and chuff before returning to drink from the lake.

He smirked and blew out some smoke. “Wish I knew you were gonna go for a run. Would have joined you.”

You sit up and look at him before quietly, deeply moaning as your tiger. Slowly, you decided to press your luck. You rub yourself against his blue-jean clad legs, nearly knocking him over with your natural strength, making him chuckle and dig his fingers into your thick, soft fur. Your scent lingered on his clothes, almost as if you were scent marking him. His alpha liked it.

“Someone has been feeding you right,” he teases. You quietly purr at the feel of his hands stroking your neck. You let him pet you for a few minutes before continuing your amble back towards the mansion and Logan beside you.

Instead of through one of the main doors, you walk toward the back of the faculty dorms intending to go back through your window.

“I can hold the door open up for you if you’d like,” he offers, grinning with the cigar in his teeth. “Come on.” He walks back toward the entrance. Your skin twitches as you decide if you should. You quietly growl at him, refusing. You walk over to him, purring loudly while pushing your body against him again and wrap your tail around him before walking back to your dorm window to jump. Your sweet omega scent lingered on him more. He hummed with a small smile, enjoying your scent.

Logan watches the tiger go, noticing the tiger hip movement are the same as a human hip movement unless tigers naturally swayed that much. He smirked. Doubt it. Once he saw you jump into the window, impressed by your agility, he felt his body warm at the thought of you naked in your room. He heard you close the window before quickly heading back around to meet you in your room. He shook himself and stubbed out his cigar on his palm, hissing and rumbled quietly at the pleasurable pain on his hand. Watching his hand heal, he quietly moaned, putting it in his jacket pocket, and then pulled the mansion door open.

Inside the foyer, it was quiet and late, a while after dinner now. Hearing quiet voices, he glanced in the library finding Laura, Ellie, and Yukio discussing literature with notebooks open, probably for Hank’s European literature class. He smiled before heading towards the stairs.

He wanted to drop by your room. He was nervous but it seemed you were receptive if he was reading your scent correctly. God, he really liked that scent of yours. Sweet, thick, warm like a vanilla crème brûlée topped with caramel and berries. Mouth watering.

The warmth began to worsen, so he pulled on his shirt collar a few times to sort of fan himself, thinking it’s nerves. His alpha purred as he turned down the hall towards your room, glad Logan was following his alpha’s command whether he knew it or not.

—

Once you are inside your room, you change back to your human form and close the window before pulling the curtains close. You were curious if Logan understood you and would come up. How should you act? It'd be nice to actually talk to him outside of work but now you’re wondering if you made a mistake. Your tiger chuffed at your thoughts, confident of your choices you made. With a deep breath, you begin to get ready for bed.

When you’re in your pajamas, you brush your teeth and hear a knock at your door shortly after. You rinse and spit, putting your toothbrush away before answering by opening the door enough to pop your head out the door finding Logan cigarless. He leaned on the frame with a small smile. “Hi.”

You smiled. “Hi”

“I just, uh…,” he began but stopped. He felt his cheeks warm.

You could see his cheeks a bit flushed and hear Logan’s heart beating as if he had run to get there. “You okay?” You ask, concerned, and open the door further.

“Yeah, yeah. I just, uh…” Logan tries to cover the stumble of his words.

Fully opening the door, you decide to invite him in. “Why don’t you come in? Sit.” He did just that. He sat on your bed as you went to the bathroom to fill up the glass full of water then brought it to him.

His eyes widened when you offered it to him. He sipped and changed into drinking half the glass before setting it on your nightstand. “I didn’t even realize I was thirsty.”

“Cigars can dry out your mouth,” you teasingly inform him, wrinkling your bridge before crawling on the bed and sitting against the headboard.

He turned towards you. “That makes sense. Thanks.”

You open your mouth but his scent suddenly hits you. It's Logan and there’s more to his scent, intense, that you’ve never noticed before, but it is mouthwatering and delicious. Licking your lips, you ask, “Are you okay? You…smell different.”

“I do?” He asked, taking an internal survey as his eyes darted to the floor and widened upon realization. “Shit.”

You sit up, confused. “What’s wrong? How can I help?”

Logan suddenly whines at your words. You crawl over to him, having been a field medic, and examine him. He looks a little more flushed so you press the back of your hand to his forehead. He closes his eyes and sighs heavily in frustration. Standing up, he tries to redirect. “I should—I should go.” He motions behind himself.

You stand on your knees. “Are you sure you’re ok? Maybe you should stay here. I have a pullout couch.” You motion to the couch in the little sitting area. Logan stares at it silently for longer than needed to make a decision.

“Ok,” you say, assuming Logan is hesitant, and stand up. Despite your smaller stature, you easily push on his shoulders to sit him back on your bed, and he allows it. “Logan. You are not acting like yourself and you feel warmer than usual. Why don’t you spend the night and I’ll keep an eye on you? I’ll take care of you if something comes up, okay?”

His mouth opens then closes. He tried again and whined. He grunts before nodding in agreement, unable to say no as his instincts begin to take over.

“Why don’t you get ready for bed then?” You kneel on the floor, beginning to untie his boots and notice his delicious scent is even stronger. You hear him take off his black shirt and fold it. You pull off one boot then go for the other.

“You don’t have to do that,” he advised, shyly, but you could hear the small smile. Pulling off the other boot, you pick the other up and set them by the door.

“I’m your friend, Logan. I’m here to help and take care of you.” You turn around to find Logan standing in black boxer briefs with a very evident erection. You weren’t expecting the erection but it’s the size that throws you off. He’s larger than you were expecting and suddenly wonder if that’s part of his mutation or just good genetics.

“I’m sorry,” he awkwardly tries to cover himself. “I didn’t realize I started my rut early until you started checking me out, I mean—“

“I know what you meant, Logan,” you calmly state and smile at him, trying to soothe him. You take a few steps forward. Your chartreuse eyes never leave his erection as his scent intensifies. Your core throbbed and rapidly grew wet. “So, are you staying because you want to get laid during your rut, or are you staying because of…something else.”

“I should go.” He gathers his clothes and goes towards the door.

“You didn’t answer the question,” you demand, stepping between him and the door. You and your tiger wanting him.

“Why were you outside earlier? It seemed odd,” you confronted him.

“I was…looking for you. I didn’t know you canceled practice until I went to watch you and was told by one of the students,” he admitted.

You felt your face warm up. “The morning meeting upset me and my tiger isn’t very good at staying still.”

He smirks. “Yeah, they don’t tend to be, huh?”

You return the smile and shake your head. “I didn’t run. I hunted.”

He takes a step towards you. His eyes dilated. His scent was becoming overwhelming. You take a small step back, beginning to feel like prey from the wolfish look in Logan’s eyes.

“I-I-I thought I’d be judged a-and didn’t wanna—wanna deal with the s-s-social shit, so I got full on squirrels and birds,” you whispered the last part of the sentence. Your eyes down cast, catching his prominent erection encased in cloth, your shoulders hunched in a bit as you fiddled with your shirt while talking to this sexy, dominant person you have a crush on in your room.

He chuckles at that and walks up to you, barely leaving any space between you. His erection pressing against your abdomen, hard, thick, and long. Makes your channel clench around nothing, emphasizing the emptiness. Logan radiated warmth and it felt so good on your cool skin.

“What?” You whined confused, trying to ignore his cock. “They're not gamey or anything, just…thin.”

Logan doesn’t respond to your words as he slowly wrapped his hands around your hips, pulling you towards him until you were pressed from torso to knee against him with his cock against your belly.

His left thumb rubs the strip of skin revealed from your pajama shorts hanging off your hip. Gooseflesh pimpled at his touch. A stuttering inhale of his intoxicating musky alpha scent through your nose over your tongue awakens your tigress fully as the omega readies to pounce. Your raw green jade eyes tinted gold looking up into his hazel ones tinted red. Your hands grab the back of his head and neck and pull him down to press his lips against yours. Momentarily caught off guard, he tenses before his hands slide to your ass, easily picking you up and laying you down on your bed, never losing touch of your lips.

You moan at his show of strength and he licks into your mouth, claiming every texture, dancing against your tongue matching the roughness of him, and lingers on your fangs. No one has ever lingered on your fangs before, and you never knew how sensitive they were until this moment. He curls his tongue around one canine, scraping up and down with the roughness of his tongue before pricking it, allowing a few drops to fall on yours. You push your tongue into his mouth to try to gather more of his taste and purr from your chest.

He lifts himself away from you, separating only your chests, eye nearly black, and swallows before licking his lips. The redness from his eyes are gone. “I should go,” he pants.

You whimper, brow furrowed and frown at him with a purse of your lips. “Why?”

“Once I start, I can’t stop,” he admits, breathlessly. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Propping up on your elbows with a smirk. “That’s expected, Logan.”

“You could get pregnant,” he argues, weakly.

“That’s acceptable to me,” you offer.

“What?” His eyes are wide, his face flush and his scent thickens at your words. His alpha, at least, loves the idea.

You smile, sitting up further, pressing your chest against his. “Unlike you, I don’t have heat. I trigger my ovulation, just like a tiger, with sex. Lots and lots of sex.” You smirk at him and look up from under your eyelashes, trying to look coquettish.

Logan begins to sweat. He’s only doing this if you want to and his alpha, Wolverine, is starting to become demanding. “You’d…want that…with me?”

With a heavy sigh, you scoot back and sit up fully. “Logan. I am one-hundred eighteen years old. I’ve watched you for different reasons than you have watched me recently. You’re wonderful with the kids, especially your daughter Laura who I know you didn’t know about until recently. You’re a wonderful teacher and you have stupid amounts of patience. I doubt that will carry over with your own kids but that’s what I’ve been told. You either have more patience or less with your own. It’s different with your own kids.”

Logan follows suit and kneels on the bed, his boxer briefs making his persistent erection irritated.

You take his face in your hands, scratching at his light beard. “I’ve always wanted children, sweetheart. Aside from your amazing genetics, you’re a wonderful person, a good person. I’ve seen you angry and held back. I’ve seen you angry and fight. You and Wade are entertaining to watch. I’ve seen you drunk. I’m pretty certain I can handle you.”

He chuckles at your assessment. “You have no idea, darlin’.”

“Let me be the one to decide that for myself. Everything I’ve seen so far of you, I want,” your voice quivering at the last two words. “I want you, Logan, if you’ll have me.”

“I have nightmares and lose control—“

You shift and kneel on the bed, walking towards him as you pull him down a bit toward your shorter stature. “You actually can’t hurt me, Logan. I heal. While not identical to you; all else fails, I can shift into my tiger and the wounds don’t carry over. I start anew and when I return to my human form, they’re no longer there,” you calmly explain. “I can feel pain and I can do that same thing,” you continue. Raising a hand from his face, you show him your claws—your fingernails lengthen before retreating. “Sadly, I too have hurt many loved ones. I understand the fear well.” Closing your eyes, you lean forward and rub your nose against his. “If you want me, I want you. If you don—“

Logan crushed his lips against yours, his hands holding your face as passion and emotion entangled in scent and touch. You can feel his hands sliding down your neck and further.

Next thing you know, you hear a snikt and cooler air is felt upon your chest. He pulled away, smirking. Looking down at your palm-sized breasts and pudgy abdomen, you see his precision is surprising. He used his claws to tear your pajama shirt open.

“Two can play at that,” you reply, running your claws down one thigh of his underwear and retracting them before pulling it to reveal his erection. You don’t linger though. You take him all in. Your mouth open, eyebrows raised, and your eyes and fingertips glide across the outline of his neck tendons, his collarbone, between his pectorals, down his ribs causing a slight chuckle that you take note for later, and across each defined abdominal muscle.

“You’re beautiful, baby,” you state, earnestly. He snorted at you. Your eyes meet his, brows furrowed. “Don’t you dare dismiss my words, alpha. I mean what I say and I swear I will never lie to you, Logan.”

“I’m sorry, ‘mega,” he murmurs. He pulls you to his chest and nuzzles into your hair. You smile at the title. Your tigress is happy at its recognition, which is reflected in your scent. He places a chaste kiss on your hair. “Thank you.”

You nuzzle your face into his torso trying to ignore the urge to lick across each defining line. You rumble, unable to resist, and begin to lick across each outline on his abdomen before humming your approval. He looks down at you watching with a quirked brow and an amused smile. He notices your freckles for the first time from the flush across your cheeks.

He cups your cheek and smooths his thumb across them, entranced. “It’s like seeing the night sky across your face.”

Your tongue has moved towards his pecs when he speaks and you pause, tongue hanging out. Retracting your tongue and swallowing, rewetting it. You furrow your brow. “My freckles?”

He nods. “I love your eyes.”

You smirk. “They’re the only part of my tiger you see in human form. They’re typical tiger eye color,” you explain as you grow impatient, feeling your core growing wet and the emptiness becoming more noticeable. “Logan, stop talking and fuck me, please?” You whine and beg.

He didn’t have to be told twice. He tore his underwear off. Copying the idea, you remove your underwear and pajama pants in one movement, dragging your socks off with it, allowing them to fall to the floor. Falling to the bed, you arch your back, close your eyes, and grab your breasts. You begin to pinch and twist your nipples with a quiet gasp and point your toes. The bed dips as Logan returns and settles between your open legs. Opening your eyes, you look over the form and find him as hard and girthy as he seemed.

You notice the subtle difference in his cock. “You have a knot?”

“Yes.” His hands slide up your calves to your thighs. Swallowing, your scent becomes a bit bitter. “I’ve never been with an alpha,” you admit, shyly. “I’ve never met one.”

“That’s ok. I’ll try to take it slow,” he coos. Petting your hair into cupping your cheek.

“Ok.”

“But first, you smell delicious and I need a taste,” he growls before wrapping his arms under your thighs and bringing your core to his mouth.

With a yelp and giggle, you slide across the bed and find your calves on his shoulders and tongue licking between your labia. You grow wetter with the show of strength. He firmly holds you in place while he flattens his tongue and licks from the bottom of your slit to your clit. He sucks gently on your clit.

“Just lick,” you groan. He changes to just licking up and down, and zings of pleasure strike inside your channel. You remain still while curling and uncurling your toes to help provide what movement you’d like. He moves down and cleans you up. You can hear him swallow your slick and begin to delve around your entrance.

Your walls quiver and you whimper. “Sensitive,” he comments. “Like that?” He asks.

You hum agreement then pant, “Yeah” and breathe, “Very”. He encircles your entrance and moves just inside, driving a moan from your throat. “There,” you breathe.

He widens his tongue and begins to tongue fuck you, thrusting in and out, in and out, moving up and down your opening. You try to push against him but he holds you steady. You whimper and grab your breasts, squeezing and digging your nails into your flesh. You take your nipples, pinching and pulling. Logan watches, mentally taking notes for later. He slurps up more of your gushing slick. You arch your back, surprised at how close you are.

“Lo-,” you groan. His tongue is longer and stronger than you expected because pushes inside, places his lip over your clit, and uses his tongue to lick across your g-spot.

Your moan turns higher pitched at the sensation but he withdraws and replaces his tongue with two fingers, rubbing circles into that pleasure center. You nearly sob, feeling yourself gush and your thighs shake as your orgasm suddenly peaks. Your heels dig into his back as you try to push yourself closer. He continues to rub your g-spot, finding the rhythm to extend your orgasm. Tears fill your eyes at the overwhelming overstimulation and you love it. Wiggling your hips, minutely, you groan and swallow his name over and over again. He doesn’t let up, watching and hearing your reaction making his alpha roar in joy.

Tears fall down your face as you try to catch your breath. You try to wiggle away but he holds tight. You can feel the bruises form on your thighs, loving being marked.

“Lo-Logan. Too much. Too much,” you whimper and beg. He backs off, slowly settling you down on the bed. He’s able to see the aftershocks in your now pliant thighs and abdomen. Panting, tears still fall as you recover.

He boxes you in with his arms. Your eyes flutter open meeting his alpha red eyes and his small smile. His mouth and jaw are covered in your juices.

“Your beard.” Your fingers want to scratch it but you’re still coming down and feel heavy. “Fuck me,” you whisper-beg, wiggling your hips and trying to get your cunt closer to his cock. He smirks, eyeing your ass before smacking the right cheek hard enough to leave a nice handprint. You gasp then groan at the feeling.

“Shit,” you whisper against the pillow.

He chuckles, seeing your slit glisten further. He smacks your other cheek a tad harder. You whine and wiggle your marked globes at him again, hoping he knows you’re asking for more. He hums, surprised. He smacks each cheek, back and forth twice before he takes himself in hand. He slides his cock head through your folds.

You tiredly pout, “No tea-ea-ease.”

He chuckles and slowly thrusts into you. You both groan in unison. He stops a few inches in before pulling back out and slowly thrusting in again, sinking deeper. Pulling out about halfway then thrust in again, nearly all the way in. When he is finally buried to the hilt, you’re certain his cock is kissing your cervix. Impatient, you grind against him with a rumble.

“Impatient, kitty,” he playfully admonishes and pecks your lips. You lick your lips and smirk with a challenging brow.

Your hands rub up the sides of his back before scratching back down to his abdomen. He groans. “That’s what I thought,” you tease. “Alpha,” you whine, demanding his attention, then lean up, returning the kiss.

You feel Logan pull back before thrusting into your cervix experiencing the pleasure-pain his cock brings you. You throw your head into the pillows, groaning and arching your neck. He delves along your neck, nipping and sucking, marking you and relishing in the sight before diving in to make more. Your heels dig into the mattress as you work to meet Logan’s slow but powerful thrusts. He rumbles while continuing his strong and steady pace. It feels so good but isn’t enough.

The coil in your abdomen just winds and winds and winds. Whimpering, your hands shoot out to grasp the sheets and leverage your weight to thrust harder. Logan, an intuitive lover, begins to increase his thrust force while slanting his lips against yours. His tongue pushed across yours making you taste your tartness. You never knew why but it is a strong turn-on to taste yourself explaining why your heartbeat is pounding into your chest. Changing your mind, you wrap your arms around his neck, keeping his mouth against yours longer.

God! This man can kiss.

You rub your rough tongue against his tongue, enjoying the texture. Licking along the roof of his mouth and the backside of his teeth trying to memorize it. He shifts his arms, pulling away and out of you.

Before you can protest, Logan uses his strength to easily flip you over, pulling your hips up so your knees are up. A hand skims down your spine and holds across your neck, pinning you to the bed. He harshly thrusts back into you, kicking a groan out of both of you. He picks up his pace, his thickness gliding across every delicious spot within your gummy walls. It’s nearly overwhelming. You can feel tears prick your eyes as pleasure builds across your body. Your channel tightens and Logan’s rumbling turns into a growl. The sound sends sparks down your spine, building to the precipice.

You begin to notice additional pressure at your entrance that slowly inches in and out with each thrust. Your mind instantly recalls his knot. You feel nervous, your scent changing subtly, scared it might hurt having never been with an alpha (though knowing there are alpha mutants in the world). A worried whimper escapes you, bringing your scent change to Logan’s attention. He leans down across your back, wrapping a comforting arm around your ribs.

“I got you,” he coos. “Slow and steady,” he quietly adds and presses kisses along the back of your neck to calm you. As his knot increases in size, the stretch begins to pleasurably burn. He doesn’t know that you’ve used knotted dildos in the past, though not the same thing. The knot adds pressure as it slides fully inside but doesn’t stay. It rubs against your G-spot with every thrust.

Your pleasure distracts you. Logan takes a breast in hand, massaging at first before pinching at your nipple. You growl with pleasure. You start to feel sweat prickle on your scalp before sliding down your head. You begin to feel truly warm, knowing you're flushed, and glad the air conditioning is on. He pulls at your nipple, a gasp followed by a moan from your lips.

“Good kitty,” he whispers hoarsely into your ear before moving back up to his knees and letting go of you. You miss his comforting warmth, craving his touch. One of his large hands is suddenly next to your face on the bed when his weight shifts and he lays back across you. You purr at his return, which is interrupted by him biting the back of your neck, holding you in place as he thrusts faster and harder into you. His other hand is holding your hip. His knot is nearly locked. Whimpering, you still worry.

Excited and nervous to be with him but having second thoughts. While one arm holds his position and weight over and on you, the other wraps back around your ribs, firmly. Despite your nervousness, you feel grounded at his touch, secure in his arm, safe and desired. The second thoughts ebbing. You’re able to focus on the pleasure your lover is bringing you. Your excitement and curiosity begin to surpass the nervousness and uncertainty.

Abruptly, the pressure remains inside you against your pleasure center, pushing you to your peak. You howl as the pleasure rips through you, walls rhythmically clenching around his cock and knot triggering his orgasm. Logan stills as he roars his release, spilling himself into you. Your hips jolt and thighs tremble with each peak. Turning your head, panting. Logan remains still, his teeth buried in the back of your neck and your tigress feels so safe. You feel secure, protected, and cared for.

As you grow fully pliant, he releases your neck and licks across the bites. You instinctively understand that he is cleaning the bonding wound. Unexpectedly, you begin to purr. He allows some more of his weight on you. You slide your elbow back to be able to put your hand over his, intertwining your fingers. He nuzzles into the side of your face and kisses your cheek. You smile and nuzzle back.

“Why don’t we get on our side, princess?” He doesn’t wait for a response, knowing he won’t get one, so he leans you both onto your left sides.

Questions and comments cross your mind—

How long does his knot last?

How does a knot work for him?

Is it the same as canids?

Does that happen every time you have sex or is it rutting only?

I really like the knot.

Can I be on top next time?

I wanna see your face when you come.

I just want his hands and arms all over me.

Meanwhile, Logan holds you against his chest. He exudes warmth and it feels soothing against your sore muscles. You wonder how long it’ll take for the bite to heal. You wish it didn’t but you feel different since he did bite you. Unsure why you feel different. Another thought crosses your mind as you notice Logan running his hand from your knee up your thigh across your side, and up your neck into your hair where you hear him inhale—

How did he know? Oh, that feels so good. Please growl in my ear more. That’s just super hot. You can just do that and I’ll be ready to go whenever you want.

All of a sudden, you chuckle at your last thought.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asks, his voice rougher than usual, before planting a kiss behind your ear.

You smile. “Just thinking,” you whisper hoarsely.

“About what?” He kisses along the ridge of your ear.

“So many things,” you respond vaguely, still smiling and loving the affection. “Like,” you begin. His hand wraps back around you under his other arm holding you.

“If you’ll notice all your marks are fading,” you tease.

“What?” He props his head over your face and looks. You look back and arch your neck showing the hickeys he left are gone. He rumbles unhappily.

With your left hand, you pat his cheek. “I told you I heal, baby. What did you think I meant?” You grin widely, amused at his displeasure.

“Shut up,” he murmured before burying his face into your neck.

“You can always make more, darogoy,” you reminded. He hummed noncommittally. Then you add, “You better.”

“Really?” He challenges without any heat.

“I enjoy the pain,” you quietly admit.

“I was wondering.” He nips up your neck, sending shivers down your neck and spine.

“Lyubimyy, ty mozhesh' ostavit' na mne lyubyye sledy.”

“Russian. I’m rusty,” Logan rumbled and kissed your shoulder before meeting your smiling eyes.

“I said ’beloved, you may leave any mark of yours on me any time’,” you translated for him. “And yes, I was born in Russia, outside Saint Petersburg.” He laid his chin over your shoulder as you two kept your eyes on each other. “What about you?” You inquire.

“I was born in Alberta, Canada,” he offered.

“Which district?” You query, unable to keep the smile from your lips.

“Alberta,” he replied. You grinned, toothy and gummy, finding his response amusing.

“So, you come from a family of fur traders?” You work to remember some of the history of Canada. Logan rolled his eyes at you and laid down.

“Hey, I’m serious. That’s what I know about Alberta. It was bought by the North Western Trading company or something to eventually become Alberta province the year before I was born.”

“What year were you born?”

“1906.”

“Ah,” he exhaled.

“For a history teacher, you don’t really like talking about your own.”

“Not much to talk about.”

“I disagree. How about we play a game while we wait?”

Logan groaned at the word ‘game’.

You grin, finding his reaction endearing and amusing.

“Fi-i-ine,” he agreed.

“Ok, first, hand me my cell. It’s in the drawer.” Logan looked to the nightstand and opened the drawer to see your iPhone plugged in from the back of the drawer.

“Smart,” He commented before picking up and handing it to you. “Next?” He asked.

“Next, you get to ask a question that I have to answer, any question. Doesn’t have to be about my past,” you explain, entering your pin and pulling up iMessage to text Ororo and Hank—“Sorry to text so late, Logan and I are gonna need our classes covered for…” you pause.

“How long do your ruts usually last?”

“About four or five days, why?”

“Letting Ororo and Hank know we need class coverage. I’m sure Charles and Jean already know, knowing their abilities.”

“Mine are already covered,” Logan admitted quietly.

“So, I was the only one who didn’t know you have ruts?” You argue with no heat in your voice. “Better safe than sorry,” you add.

Continuing your text—“..for a week. If possible, please leave food at my bedroom door and do not make noise. Logan’s alpha is very protective. ;) Will discuss with Charles later about finding a suitable room for us to occupy together. Thank you!”

“That was awfully professional and telling,” he groused before wiggling his hips, slipping from you.

You still and wait but hear nothing, only feel his seed begin to leak from you. “I thought there was gonna be a cartoonish pop,” you giggled. He chuckled at your words before swinging his feet over the side of the bed and standing to head to the toilet.

”Are you gonna be upset if I clean myself up?” You ask, quietly, knowing he can hear you. He doesn’t respond. “I’m taking that as a yes. When you come out, can you grab something for me from my closet?”

He comes back out. “Sure, what?” He walks to your closet and pulls it open. Turning on the light switch, he looks around.

“On the floor, there is a lockbox, a bit bigger than a Manila envelope. Can you bring it here?”

You watch him as he squats down, and carefully digs through the closet floor.

“It ain’t here.”

“Oh, I must have dreamt I put it back,” you comment and lean over the side of the bed and reach under it. Logan stands and watches you while he haphazardly searches for the light switch. He finally turns off the closet light. He takes one step before you remind him to close the closet door, which he does. You drag out the lockbox that looks more like a suitcase than a lockbox. You pick it up and put it on the bed. It’s two sets of number locks that you change to and it pops open, revealing many sex toys. Logan stands next to you, looking inside with his cheek pinking.

“Yes,” you deadpan. “I’m kinky. I like orgasming.” You pull out a white pillowcase and remove a grey plug. It’s almost like a butt plug but one side is concave a little and textured—it is shaped differently. Pushing the lockbox away, you lean back and work it inside your channel until it sets correctly inside. With a wiggle of your hips, it settles right in. Looking at Logan with a haughty smirk and a quirking brow. “Minimal loss. Tada.”

Logan just stares at you for a few extra seconds then returns to your open lockbox, picking it up and bringing it with him around your bed to sit back down next to you.

“Let me know if you have questions,” you offer.

“I’ve been around, you know?”

“Actually, I don’t. When you say around? What does that mean?”

“Eh eh huh. I get to ask the question,” he corrected.

“You said you know? Which is a question. My turn.”

“Hey,” he exclaimed, trying to hide his amusement.

“Go on, answer my question: what do you mean when you say you’ve been around?”

“I’m nearly two hundred years old, sweetheart. There’s little I haven’t done or tried.”

“That was very vague.”

“And yet, it was an answer to your question.” He booped you on the nose. He returned to the interior of your lockbox. What you find surprising is he starts smelling each item.

“Trying to determine how well I cleaned them or when I used them last?” You asked, curious about his actions. His cheeks pinked a light dusting that could be missed in the low light. You look at the box, making sure to hide your smile.

“Curious,” he began. “About…which…one you…use the most.”

“You could just ask me. Sex doesn’t embarrass me to discuss it. I used to teach sex education among other topics in the eighties.”

“Ok, which one do you use the most?” He started pulling at bags, peeking inside.

“The blue bag,” you inform him. He returns the grey one and picks up the larger blue one. You feel your face warm, embarrassed as you take the bag from him, opening and pulling the thick dildo out which isn’t as girthy as him but does have a built-in inflatable knot. You chew on your lower lip.

His eyebrows rose towards his hairline and his eyes widened. The reaction you didn’t expect was for Logan’s pupils to begin to dilate. Quickly, you put it back in the bag and throw it in the lockbox. “Later,” you advise, swinging your feet off the bed but Logan catches you before you can stand.

You hear the box close and drop on the floor as he pulls you back into his chest. “I don’t think so,” he growls, nuzzling against your neck, and laying kisses. “I can smell your arousal.”

“All I’ve been able to smell is yours, it seems,” you counter. He picks you up and sets you straddling his bare thighs. You sit down, his cock is already beginning to thicken.

“Really? Such stamina.” You compliment his prowess.

He places open-mouth kisses across your collarbone before nipping at your shoulder. Your nipples tighten and gooseflesh forms across your neck and chest.

“You already smell good,” you try to vex him. Your hands rest on his shoulders. “It isn’t fair that your arousal is that much more yummy, okay? Stop smelling so good.” You plant your nose where his shoulder and neck meet, right near his scent gland and purr. “I need you to growl some more.” You lick at the gland and sink your hand into his hair.

“I’m not a dog. I don’t follow commands well,” he bites your bicep.

You bite his scent gland, erupting a loud growl from Logan, and his cock fully hardens. “Really?” You playfully challenge. You lick and place open-mouth kisses over it, apologizing. You kiss his ear before whispering, “What’s wrong, puppy? Cat got your tongue.”

“Oh, you’re gonna get it,” he rumbled with a grin, pushing you down on the bed. You laugh out loud at him as he pins your wrists above you and kisses your swollen, wet lips, sweetly, tenderly. It’s like he’s making love to your mouth. You could get used to this.

🐈‍⬛🐺

Six weeks later…Logan has been on a mission for three days with Scott, Jean, Ororo, Wade, Yukio, and Ellie. It was only supposed to be one day. Colossus is filling in for Logan’s history and his mechanics courses. Charles is teaching his usual literature courses while splitting Jean’s and Scott’s courses with Hank. Rogue and Bobby took on the combat training courses. You would help too except you have been feeling so nauseated with stomach pain for the last two days, refusing to let Hank examine you without Logan present. You’re pretty sure you’re pregnant. You have a vague memory of your mother complaining about the awful heartburn your siblings and you caused when she discovered she was pregnant with all three of you.

You chuckle at this memory. Your chest aches still, missing them all the time despite being disowned by them for the “demon” you had become. You push it away to think on later but you’ve been thinking about your childhood and mother a lot lately. Logan even said he’d be able to smell if you were pregnant.

Laying in bed on your right side in the bedroom you’ve been sharing with Logan since a few days after his rut ended. You wonder what your mother would say since you basically proposed to Logan during his rut. You two discussed everything afterward just to make sure you were still on the same page and you were. You two were two long-lived people, mutants, and happened to find each other.

You’ve been watching and learning about Logan since you started. Jean and Ororo told you to keep your distance and he was a bit of a heartbreaker. Rogue, however, said he is a good man with a fiercely caring heart that wasn’t always easy to see, and he easily angered because she thinks trauma. Colossus told you he was good friends with Wade Wilson/Deadpool. They seemed very opposite to you but you knew those could work well together depending on how they complement each other.

One of the things you have made a note to discuss with Logan is to make Wade the godfather of your child or children. You’re not sure how ovulation works for you. You only have a menstrual cycle after several consistent days of sex, just like a tiger trying to mate. You haven’t had one yet and the pee tests have all come up negative every week you’ve tried.

Logan and you decided to keep trying, just in case, and the sex has been getting better and better. It wasn’t bad before, no siree. A near week of constant, feral sex has been the best sex of your life, and being allowed to lose control with your mate makes it that much better.

You wanna tell him you love him. You’re scared that he’s just being loyal and obligatory like an alpha would in the wild. You’re scared that his human side won’t be as strong as his mutant, er, alpha side and he’ll leave after he finds out you're pregnant or after the baby comes.

You whimper and bury your face in his pillow as tears flow down your face. You’re scared you made a terrible mistake and he’s just a lonely man who will grow bored with you. It wouldn’t be the first time but it has been a long time.

Another wave of nausea hits you, you groan and immediately jump up from the bed rushing to the toilet. Thankfully, you make it and empty what little is in your stomach into the porcelain throne. You’re stuck there a few minutes, dry heaving into the toilet, quietly groaning. Closing your eyes, you place your face on the cool plastic seat. You hear the faucet running before a cool washcloth wipes down your face. Your eyes flutter open to find Logan’s worried scowl still in his mission suit, wiping your face down.

“Hey,” he quietly grins.

You weakly smile back before readjusting and standing up. He keeps his hand on your lower back, making sure you stay stable. You spit in the toilet and flush. You slowly walk over to the sink and brush your teeth, especially your tongue. Logan stays behind you, a hand on your abdomen while the other wipes the mating scar on the back of your neck. Once you’ve rinsed and spit, you lean back against him. He buries his nose in your hair, purring.

“So,” you croak. He takes your usual glass and fills it with sink water before holding it to your lips. You smile and sip the glass about halfway before pushing his hand away. He sets it down.

“So,” he replies. “Hank caught me up. Why didn’t you text me?”

“Dude, you’re on a mission. I’m not gonna make you distracted while on a mission. I want you to come back alive and well every time, you got that?” You turn in his arm. He wraps his arms around your neck, resting his forehead on yours. “I got that.”

“You gonna do the sniff test, mister, or what?”

He chuckles at your request. “I don’t know. You smell wonderful to begin with, well until I walked in here.”

“Shut up,” you playfully push him away and go to walk away but he blocks you. “If you can tell me how many with that sniffer of yours, I’ll do anything you want except murder and eat people and pets.” His back arches as he laughs out loud. You take the distraction to head back into the sitting area to open a window before heading back into the bedroom to open another one. You lay back down on your side of the bed, furthest from the door, of course.

You’ve even been nesting recently, which you’ve only ever had the urge to do when you were a tiger. It was weird then, just like now except now you want soft and warm and Logan’s dirty, sweaty clothes. Remembering this, you sit up and pull on his wrist. He stumbles onto the bed, forgetting how strong you are sometimes.

“I love it when you wear my clothes,” he rumbles.

You push him down on the bed and straddle his abdomen. You inhale the air around him before you start skimming your nose along his neck, down his chest, and to one armpit wrinkling your nose. Leaning back up, you pout and whine. “Really?”

“Hey, I was on a mission. Not everyone enjoys my natural scent,” he smiles, teasingly.

“Dammit.”

“Besides, Scott would kill me if you tried to take my suit.”

You grinned and rubbed your palms together, your fangs lengthening.

“Stop it. You’re not gonna fuck with Scott.”

“Come on. He’s so easy. He walks into like ninety-eight percent of the time and you know it.” You harrumph, crossing your arms, pouting, and looking away.

“Did my kitty miss me? Is that why you want to be diabolical?”

Your bottom lip quivers and can feel your eyes beginning to fill with tears. “I feel like shit. My tummy hurts, and I don’t understand why. I also haven’t had my cycle since your rut, six weeks ago. If I ain’t pregnant then I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.” A tear ran down your right cheek.

“Oh, Princess,” he coos, gently pulling you down on top of him.

“I wanted to call,” you admit. “But I want you safe and to come back home to me,” you whine. Logan felt an ache in his chest and warmth bloomed bright.

He pets your head with one hand and holds you with the other, hand on your lower back. “Ok, sunshine. Let’s take a shower, get all nice and clean, and then I’ll help you feel better.”

“Ok,” you say with your lips pursed and a tad whiny. Logan has always found this endearing but never said it; however, you can smell it on him whenever you do.

With Logan back from the mission and you’re both in the shower, you go into “omega mode” as Logan calls it. He stands there under the warm water as you scrutinize him to make sure he isn’t injured—he never is—and once you find everything acceptable, you clean him.

You have no idea why but Logan has explained that this is typical human omega behavior. Omegas are natural caregivers, and nurturers, and can be rather maternal to their family or even pack. At first, you thought it was shit until you started noticing your behavior and thought about your past friendships. You grumpily accepted this and Logan praises you for it each time you give in. He says it’s part of your nature and there is nothing wrong with it.

You lather up the loofa with his lightly scented soap and start scrubbing his back and neck, giving a soothing massage. Healing factors only do so much. You have the sudden urge to mark him, make sure everyone knows he’s yours. Quickly, you scrub his butt, fondling it and playing with his hole causing a quiet rumble since he likes that. You make a mental note to fuck him this week since you just want tummy rubs and cuddles. You continue downward scrubbing the back and sides of his legs.

“Turn,” you command. He does so and you work your way back up. Tapping one ankle, you scrub the top of his foot and bottom then between his toes with a bit of pressure on his arches before scrubbing his calves. You continue up those powerful thighs, nuzzling them and inhaling. His wet hand pets your head, a way he shows silent appreciation. You look up and smile, and he reciprocates the smile before you continue. He holds out his hand helping you stand back up.

You keep forgetting to get one of those non-slip mats with a bit of cushion for the shower/bathtub. It amuses you how you only come up to his chest. He cups your face and leans forward pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

“You ain’t clean yet,” you murmur. “Let me finish.”

He grins and chuckles at you. “You take such good care of me, omega.”

You scrub his hips, abdomen, and chest, teasing his nipples a little. He rumbles a warning at you, which you ignore. You scrub around his neck and move down to his arms, making sure to get his underarms with firm pressure so you don’t tickle him. He is not fond of being tickled but loves to tickle you. Jerk. You smile as scrub his upper arms. You tap one forearm and he scowls at you. “Don’t act like they can’t get dirty and you let them back inside you just because you heal.”

You maintain eye contact. With a roll of his eyes, he unsheathes one set of claws allowing you to look over them.

“Also, doesn’t mean they can’t chip. They’re fuse-plated, Logan.” You soap up your fingers and slowly, carefully rub a finger down each plane of his claws. You always end up cutting yourself but you heal too. You’re doing great this time which is your downfall. You’re excited about how good you’re getting and then you cut your thumb on the last blade.

“Fuck.”

Logan immediately grabs your thumb, licking the trail of blood, and sucks it into his mouth with a chesty rumble.

“You’re such a dork, alpha,” you smile as he keeps your thumb in his mouth until it stops bleeding but it’s clean too. It takes about a minute, so you scrub his forearm and tap his arm he will rinse and then retract the claws. He removes your thumb, looks it over, and lets go allowing you to continue to his other arm.

“I, as an alpha, am to protect you and our family…our pack. That also means taking care of you any way you need it, omega,” he reminds you.

“I know. I know,” you counter and tap his other forearm only to repeat, making sure to remain focused. He pokes your side making you cut your thumb again.

You gasp as he sucks on your other thumb. “You did this on purpose. Are you a vampire now? Do I need to start giving blood donations regularly to you?”

“You sound’ li’e Wade,” he teases with your thumb in his mouth.

“I’m buying you a binkie if you don’t cut it out,” you whine with no heat behind it though you have been tempted with how oral and touchy he can be with you. You smirk. “I’ll get Wade and you opposite ones too. I’ll get you a Deadpool one and Wade a Wolverine one.”

He pulls your thumb out and lets go. “Don’t. You. Dare,” he growls at you. The downfall of the shower is you can hardly smell him. With a raise of your hands, you don’t back off.

“What? Afraid your best friend would read too much into it?” You make another mental note to text Wade to do that. “Worried he’d want to fuck you?” You swear you see Logan blush as he looks at the floor of the shower but with the warm shower, it’s hard to tell.

“You do, don’t you?” You grin widely, your fangs very obvious. “I gotta tell you, puppy, but that’s hot.” He looks right at you, seeing your grin and eyes begin to dilate at the thought. With a tilt of your head, you chuckle and drop the loofah.

You scratch his beard, rubbing what bit of soap is left. “You do know I find Wade hot, right?” Quirking your brow, you continue. “I’m polyamorous, polyandrous, polygamous…sweetheart, I like everyone. I’m a sapiosexual, demisexual, and pansexual.”

“What’s sapiosexual?”

“Attracted to intelligence,” you apprise. “I used to imagine listening to you lecture in your class. Your voice is like whiskey over river rocks, that roughness but somehow soothing too, and makes me so wet when you just talk. I could never decide if I wanted to fall to my knees, have you hold on to my head to just fuck my face, or ride your cock and scratch down your chest just to watch you heal.” You sway, turning yourself on as you speak, having forgotten about your stomach pain. Being around Logan always makes you feel better.

He suddenly walks you back to the shower wall, pinning you there.

“Logan,” you attempt to warn but giggle instead. He’s so certain of his movements and seems to always be sure of himself. It’s one of your favorite qualities about him. In the back of your mind, you have questioned what makes him doubt but you’ve never pushed.

“What else?” He inquired with a hungry look on his face. You can feel his hardening cock against your abdomen.

“Logan, I need to get clean,” you try to complain. He drops to his knees and leans forward, licking across your slit, tasting your wetness. “I have missed this.”

Giggling, “You were gone three days, baby.”

He places his upper lip over your clit as he continues to lap your cunt. He hums in approval. “Yes and I missed your pretty pussy,” he says against you.

You exhale deeply at the feel. He licks your clit with the flat of his tongue, sending shivers up your spine. “You know…I,” you grab his hair and try to not moan. “Hate that you call it that.” He licks at your slit, slowly licking just inside your entrance. He reaches his hand up and sticks his index and middle fingers in your mouth. You arch against him, your head thudding against the wall, and moan against his fingers.

“Take the compliment, kitty,” he demands, his voice deeper and roughened. He dives back in and works to devour you. He moves one of your thighs over his shoulder giving him more room. Your hand pulls on his hair and he growls against you, vibrating against your opening. You groan before returning to suck on his fingers, swirling around them.

Logan begins to tongue fuck your entrance, widening his tongue out so make sure to tease you as he gently sucks on and rubs his upper lip against your clit. One of his arms wraps around your thigh as you begin to tremble, he taps on your tongue and you open your mouth. He pulls his tongue away and his fingers from your mouth, replacing his fingers inside you. He thrusts in you, setting a brutal pace that quickly sends you over the edge. You roar your release, soaking Logan’s hand. He changes angle, not stopping until you squirt on his face. He growls and licks and sucks your slick he can reach around his hand.

“Logan,” you groan with both thighs trembling. Your legs feel weak. He must notice because he shoved his shoulder under your other thigh. “Log—log—,” you swallow his name as you gasp and moan.

“One more, kitty cat,” he purrs at you. “Mark me.” You rumble and he starts focusing on thrusting against your G-spot quickly triggering you to peak again and squirting onto his face into his mouth again. He stops then, feeling your walls clench against his thick fingers. You’re huffing and puffing.

“I got you,” he cooed, slowly pulling his fingers out and sucking on them. You whine as he sets your feet down. “You’re doing so good,” he gently says. He wraps an arm around your waist and sets your other foot down, despite both legs shaking. As he stands up, you start to go down but he easily catches you.

You weakly glare at him. He smiles and sweetly kisses your lips. You hum into the kiss, opening your mouth for him. He slides his tongue in and you taste yourself on him. You want to wrap your arms around him but he has tired you out. You pout when he pulls away, holding you against him as he changes the shower to a bath and slowly sits down with you, his chest to your back.

“You’re a sap,” you smile. “I love it.” He chuckles, knowing you’re drunk on endorphins. You lay your head against his chest. “I’ve been worried to tell you how much I care about you,” you quietly admit. “Like is it too soon or too much?”

He bends down, his lips next to your ear to whisper, “I love you too.”

You rapidly sit up and turn around. “You do?” Your energy suddenly returns. “I love you too, Logan. I mean I love you.” He grins wide at you. You swear he has heart eyes. You’re certain you do too and lean forward kissing him.

You wiggle your butt and turn back around to lie on his chest. He laughs at you as you wiggle your feet. “You make me wanna dance.”

He kisses your hair. “Let’s get you clean and then you can dance as much as you want.”

“Yeah, you haven’t seen me dance much, huh? I used to be really good. I was nearly a prima ballerina.” He turns off the water, lathers up his soap, and rubs the soap around your neck and shoulders.

You groan, thankful for the massage. He continues down your back and around to your stomach then up your arms. He slides down your breasts, pinching your nipples.

“Cut it out, puppy.” You pull his hands away, he lets you. Moving down your abdomen.

“You gonna tell me, mister sniffer?” You tease but the slight quiver in your voice gives away your nervousness.

You can hear his heart beat faster. “Yes,” he says. It takes a moment for your brain to catch up. You turn around again, being mindful of his erection. “Really?” You splash around, your hands on his chest. You stand up, getting water on Logan’s face.

You squeal. “I wanna dance. We should tell people. Wait, people already know, don’t they?” You hum as you think.

He wipes his face off.

“We should tell Laura,” you excitedly recommended. He grins and laughs.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout.

“I’m not,” he chuckles. “I just love seeing you like this.” He grabs your wrist and pulls you back down. “But first, we need to finish getting clean.”

“Oh, right. I didn’t wash your hair.”

“In a few minutes.”

🐈‍⬛🐺

20 minutes later…you rode Logan in the bathtub, soaking the floor and bath mat. Once you cuddled a bit, you two did finally get fully clean. Upon exiting the tub and hearing the water drain, Logan hangs the mat up on the towel rack inside the shower while you dry off. He grabs a towel and cleans up the floor, hanging that towel on the shower rod before getting a towel for himself. You do your usual routine: putting leave-in conditioner in your hair and brushing it while wet along with body lotion. Logan just dries his hair and combs it before heading out to get dressed.

In the bedroom, he pauses, looking at the nest the bed has become and smiles, shaking his head. He wonders to himself how you didn’t know you were pregnant. You’ve been nesting for a week or so now. He rubs his wrists on the fabrics along the bed he can reach real quick to add more of his scent. You walk in catching him. “Thank you.”

“‘Course,” he blushes, replying nonchalantly. You love how his scent is soft and warm, very affectionate when he looks at your shared bed. He gets clothes out for the both of you. Hanging a grass green dress with small wildflowers spread out on the closet door. He hands you a dark blue demi-bra and thong set.

“Really?” You deadpan.

“You said I could dress you whenever I wanted,” he flirts with a pout and gives you puppy eyes.

“No groping my ass, puppy. I know how you are with thongs.”

He smirks, looking hungry again. “No promises.”

“Dammit,” you murmur to yourself as you begin to dress. He leans over and kisses along your neck a few times before pulling away to get his shirt on.

With you both dressed and about to walk out your bedroom door, you take his hand in yours, squeezing while your slightly sour scent reveals your nerves

“You ready?” He asks. His scent is spicy, warm and a touch bitter.

“Are you?” Your brows raised and eyes soft with concern.

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” you say and smile. “First, Laura.”

He grunts, shaking his head. “She’s gonna scream.”

“I know. It’s a girl thing,” you state.

“Oh, I know.” He opens the door and lets you exit first with your hand still in his. He pulls the door closed but pulls you back to him.

Your chartreuse eyes peer up into his hazel ones. He closes his eyes as he presses his lips against yours. You smile into the kiss and pull back so you don’t get distracted. “You need to stop, mister flirty.”

“Or what?” His free hand glides down the softness of your dress and grabs your ass, massaging it.

You hum, enjoying the massage. “I got nothing.”

He grins and chuckles.

“We can do another celebratory fucking later, Logan. I promise. Whatever you’d like.” You quirk a brow with a teasing smile.

“Whatever I like?” He grins wolfishly.

Your face falls. “Only the two of us.”

His brow furrows and frowns, obviously confused. “What? We did discuss your best friend earlier.” You give him a cheeky grin. “I’m just saying.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not sure I’m up for sharing you.” The hand on your ass wraps around you, holding you against him. You giggle, always enjoying any affection he gives you.

“Ok,” he sighs. “Let’s get this over with.”