a/n ; I need him so bad, it's actually not even acceptable. I giggle everytime I think of him.
Old man logan coming home, early in the morning, to find you asleep in his bed. The sheets draped over your lower body. The top you wore tugged down to show the soft mounds of your breast, as if on show to greet him.
He can't help but let out a groan. Unbuttoning his shirt as he lets it drop the floor next to the bed. The mattress dipping underneath his weight, the bed creaking. He just needs a smell. Just one sniff to get through the ache and exhaustion he felt.