Firsr Up, As He Is Rather Short(5 Feet And Smth), He Might Have A Secret Thing For Wayyy Taller Women.

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This could SAVE SOMEONE'S LIFE.

YOU HAVE NO EXCUSE NOT TO REBLOG THIS.

I DON'T GIVE A FUCK IF IT DOESN'T GO WITH YOUR BLOG'S THEME.

And yes, REBLOG. Liking does no shit at all. This isn't ig.

You reblog, people see it. You don't, people don't see it. This shit's that simple.

This could save someone's life. It's not a joke.

I've Got a Thing About You, Baby

Warnings: kissing, pet names, Logan shotguns the reader, cigars, smoking, fluff, domestic logan

It's late one night in the summer that it happens; when the air's still warm under the moonlight and the crickets hum against the breeze.

You've been watching him for the past hour or so. The trickling of smoke dancing into strange shapes and pretty lines through the screen door of the mansion, leading out to the back porch.

It's far past your bedtime, and the rest of the students and professors have long since retired to their own bedrooms.

Except for you, that is. A part of you too exhausted to actually sleep and the other too anxious to.

If you listen closely, you're able to hear the bird fountain from the garden.

You can hear the rocking chair sway back and forth against the chipped wood of the porch.

A weird feeling passes over you. It feels like the heat of the sun on a spring day, and it settles into your stomach warmly.

That feeling reminds you of home often.

You can't tell if Logan knows you're awake – scribbling away at your notes for the day and sipping Coca-Cola from the bottle through a straw. If he does, he doesn't make it known.

It's only when you make your way towards the back door, bare feet padding against the cool wood floors that you know he knows.

You wait by the door for a moment, gripping the neck of your Coca-Cola bottle as you watch him take a drag of his cigar.

You've always thought he was beautiful. The dark tufts of his hair and hazel eyes, paired with the brute strength he bears, was Renaissance-like.

You briefly wonder if he'd been alive that long.

"Y'gonna come out here or just keep staring at me like a freak?" Logan's voice breaks you from your spell and has you pushing past the screen door instantly.

You sit down in the rocking chair across from him, pulling both of your knees to your chest and your Coca-Cola to your side.

Your eyes follow him as he takes another drag of the cigar, thick brows relaxed as he exhales a pillow of white smoke and sinks into the chair.

"Why aren't you in bed?" You ask, thumbing the ends of your pajama bottoms

Logan snorts at the parroted sterness in your voice. You had to've picked that up from Jean, he thinks to himself.

"Why aren't you in bed?" He hums with a slight shake of his head, tapping his fingers holding the cigar against the armrest of the chair.

"Couldn't sleep."

"Hm," He picks at the fabric of his jeans momentarily, "is that why you were hiding behind the screen door thinkin' I couldn't see you?"

"I wasn't hiding!" You nearly jump from your seat, almost cringing at the hightened squeal of your voice.

"Right." He smirks from behind the cigar, voice laced with sarcasm as he takes another drag.

You watch him for a moment. Your skin warm from the summer air, a shiver runs up your spine.

There's something oddly paternal in his demeanor; legs spread as he rocks himself back and forth in the chair, flicking his lighter shut and throwing it back into his jean pocket.

Logan looks up momentarily, meeting your gaze through his brows, and just as quickly as he's turned away to blow smoke out into the hot air.

"Never smoked before." You comment, crossing your arms over the fronts of your legs.

Logan hums, "Good. Bad habit."

"Can I try some?"

Logan hesitates. Eyes meeting yours sternly.

"Aren't you a bit young to be trying to get people to pass off drugs to you?" You can hear the smirk in his voice before it's visible on his features.

You roll your eyes and place your Coca-Cola bottle onto the floor beside you.

"Never been one to try and get people to start bad habits." Logan adds, picking at his nail absentmindedly. "Seems to happen around me anyways."

You don't say anything to that. The pads of your fingers still folding and twisting the fabric of your pajamas.

An owl hoots from somewhere across the garden, and the crickets sing in the breeze again.

Logan turns his head towards you and folds his free hand behind his head, taking another drag of the cigar before turning it towards you.

You feel stuck. Suddenly, very aware of where you are and who you're with and the uncomfortably humbling fact that you have no idea how to actually smoke.

You hadn't realized you'd only been staring at his hand until Logan's voice peeks through your mental fog.

"C'mere, baby."

There's something domestically paternal in the deep of his tone that nearly makes your knees buckle as you shyly make your way over to him.

He makes room for you in his lap, guiding you to sit on one of his thighs.

"Y'never smoked before?" He reaffirms, resting a large hand over both of your thighs.

You shake your head.

The sound of his lighter makes you turn before Logan pulls you back towards him, lighting the end of the cigar again.

"I'll hold it fr'you. Just take a deep exhale like you're breathin', easy peasy."

You nod, watching the tobacco simmer at the end of the cigar, illuminating Logan's hand in an orangish red hue.

There's a moment of quiet where you're lost in thought, memorizing the preparedness of it. You turn towards Logan at the silence to see him watching you already, a thick brow arched.

"You gettin' shy on me?"

Immediately, you fluster at that, shaking your head with a "uh, uh." Before leaning down to wrap your lips around the end of the cigar.

Logan meets your eyes with a warm smile, "uh uh," He chides, voice pitched in mimic.

You giggle lightly before inhaling from the cigar.

It's warm against the back of your throat; a burning stroke that has you pulling away, coughing instantly. Your mouth feels dry and cotton-like as drool fills your mouth in an attempt to relax the forgein feeling.

"Woah," Logan chuckles loosely at you, stroking his hand up and down your back. "Y'okay?"

You give a weak thumbs up, smiling wobbly before bursting into a fit of coughs again.

Logan reaches for your coca-cola bottle mid giggle, bringing the straw up to your lips.

"Here, drink this. Yeah, there y'go."

The drink cools your throat, soothing the dry attack on your lungs as you gasp for clean breaths of air again.

Logan keeps his hand on your back, letting you relax into it.

"Y'okay?" He asks.

"Yeah, I didn't realize that it'd be that aggressive." Your voice still scratchy.

"I probably should've told you not to take such a deep breath," He strokes his hand over the curve of your jaw. "Sorry 'bout that, kid."

You wave him off, "it's okay."

Logan takes a drag of the cigar, thumbing it between his forefinger and middle.

"That is a bit strong, huh."

You nod.

"Here, I might have a better way to do it."

You watch as he tilts his head upwards, holding the cigar to his plush lips as he takes another inhale.

The glow of the auburn porch light creates a halo around his hair tufts and makes an outline of his sharp nose.

He blows smoke through his nose, hardly acknowledging it.

You're entranced with how easy he makes it seem, as though he's been throwing back cigars for the majority of his existence, and for all you know, he has.

Your betwitchment must be obvious on your face by the way Logan peers down slyly at you midst another drag.

He motions for you to come closer to him, curving his hand to hold your jaw steady.

Parting his lips some, a small whisp of smoke trails from his mouth as he softly says, "Open."

You can smell the burning tobacco, and it settles a warmth into you.

You part your lips, jolting slightly in his hold as he exhales the cloud of smoke into your mouth with a cocky smile.

The smoke is much easier to take this way – already diluted by whatever super regenerative powers he holds.

Logan brings you closer to meet you in a kiss, dragging his tongue over your lips and past your teeth to stroke the insides of your cheeks.

You're completely at his mercy, shivering and whimpering in his hand.

The plush of his lips has you grabbing at his forearm and gasping against him. You can feel him smile into the kiss with a hum.

He pulls off of you with a 'pop' before relasing his hand from your jaw with a smile.

"That better?"

You reduced to just stare at him.

"Maybe I need it one more time." You say under your breath, and you're almost afraid he doesn't catch it.

"Yeah? One more?" He asks, moving to hold your chin again.

"Mhm," you nod.

And my mom gets me too

I feel like I'm mourning the loss of my husband. I feel like a widow.

Hand🤚

Gosh I love math.

I have a joke about math but im 2² to say it

Older bf logan who loves seeing how many times he can make you cum on his tongue until you start crying from how good it feels 🫣

tw: smut, f!reader, oral (f receiving), praise, squirting, overstim, logan having a crying kink, age gap, slight subspace. mdni/+18.

his tongue has been lapping at you for what feels like hours, face pressing messy against your skin as he growls into you. you're twisted up in a way you didn't think capable until dating logan, his grips pressing your thigh open wide.

you've leaked all over the man, legs still weak from squirting a handful of minutes ago. the sight was divine, logan unable to stop himself from diving his tongue to coast across after witnessing the sight.

your boyfriend's stare shines a wild gleam at your choked-out gasps, peeking up to get a look at the tears welling in your eyes.

"just one more, sweetheart," logan begs through a mumble, lips barely moving from their sucking of your swollen clit. your back arches at the following strokes of the flat of his tongue, gaze growing blurry with a fresh round of tears. "be good, 'n gimme one more, alright?"

despite its exhaustion, your body gives into logan easily. it's as if he possesses complete control of you, your pleasure cemented to whatever flick his fingers or tongue chooses to carry out against you. pussy pulsing and face pouting, you ripple with your orgasm and mewling sobs that roll logan's eyes to the back of his head.

you're too out of it to notice the older man retreating from your legs, planting kisses all the way up to your bit-swollen lips. his face and beard are practically soaked as he coos at you, fingers wiping at the damp skin of your cheeks.

"that's my good girl," logan praises over your blubbers, rolling to his side to scoot you in his arms. you clutch at him tightly, the wave of cries overtaking you stirring up something thick and hard in logan's pants.

god, he loves to see you weep.

send more older bf!logan thoughts!

© 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐯𝐚

Spider-society, my go to campus ngl at this point💀 (love the theory)

VERY IMPORTANT SPIDER-VERSE QUESTION -

Do Nueva Yorkers know about Spider Society?

In Across the Spider-verse, we essentially see The Spider Society essentially terrorize the downtown of Nueva York in an attempt to capture Miles.

All of the Spider-people seem pretty versed and keen on where they're going for the most part. None of them seem particularly shocked by the floating train to the moon too.

This could be chalked up to the fact that they're Spider-people, and that means naturally good navigation -

But the Spider Society is basically one of the tallest buildings in NY99

So I'm assuming everyone (citizens) knows what it's for, or at least have a name for the tower (O'Hara Tower, or maybe just Spider Society Tower like the Avengers).

And it makes me wonder -

Do they see Spiders often? Do they know about The Society?

Do citizens know about the multiverse, as if it's taught in elementary school? Do they understand why there's so many Spider-people?

They seem to know it well - so do Spider people hang out in Nueva York? Maybe you can eat lunch at the cafeteria, or go off campus for some local 2099 food?

Are they celebrities? Do people see them like super-stars, or like students at a college in a college town?

Or do they go out there plain clothed so they blend in more?

But if they can do all that, that implies they're getting 2099 currency from somewhere. Maybe an allowance/stipend from Miguel? If he can own that big building, then why not?

I'm so curious!!!!! AHHHHHH

I NEED A POLL

WHAT DO YOU THINK?

Cause nah for real, think about it -

Margo and Gwen hanging out at a super futuristic arcade together during their off time.

Cafes run Spider-Society discounts like cafes around college campuses. They have local fans.

Ben Reilly getting stopped in Nueva York for a picture with a fan and he doesn't stop talking about it for weeks.

The Spider-saur and Spidey-Jeep pulling up to the drive thru and you — the poor McMiguel's employee in 2099 have to act like that's natural and normal

hanging out with Hobie and hitting a bar with him in Downtown Nueva - listening to some obscure as future-retro punk band from 2099.

WAIT A MINUTE AM I COOKING LET ME COOK

Are y'all seeing the vision??