Logan getting mad when you take his glasses off because he wants to see you. Every little detail of you. 😉
YESS. i go absolutely feral every time i see him in his lil prescription glasses, esp w the tags still on them. i hc he keeps them on so he remembers what power they are—his damn left eye a bit weaker than the other lol
contents/tags: brat taming (?), teasing, pet names
just thinking about the way his glasses scoot down his nose bridge when he peers down at you as he’s seated—poor little thing, kneeling on the floor, begging on your knees.
“missed me that bad, sugar?” he taunts as your hands run along his thighs, fingers lingering around his bulge, growing ever so larger by the second.
you nod your head yes and stammer upwards. you’re standing in front of him, arms crossed, lips pouted. “don’t make fun of me,” you whine, playfully throwing a punch to his chest.
logan mockingly lips the word ‘ow’, throwing his head back, squinting his eyes in exaggeration. “sorry, doll, can’t take you seriously like this,” he adds, playing with the frills of your skirt.
he’s testing your patience, toying with you—which normally doesn’t necessarily anger you, but considering how hot and bothered you were, panties already drenched in your own arousal, you were a little fed up.
in rebellion to his teasing, in a swift motion, you snatch his glasses off of him. a smirk forms in the corner of your lips, seeing how you caught him off guard.
but within a second, his eyes turn dark—eyelids slightly drooping, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.
your smile fades away as he tightly grips your wrist, pulling you closer to him. you part your lips, about to speak your mind, but his other hand grasps at your jaw, squishing your cheeks together, shutting you up.
“not so fast,” he tuts, his voice dark and heavy in contrast to earlier. “need you to behave, doll.”
he lets go of you, your skin tinged slightly with red where his hands once were. “mhm…” you drone off, with the look of defeat on your face, returning the glasses to where they once sat on his face.
“don’t be sad, darlin’,” he consoles you, taking your hand in his, rubbing where he left marks.
“how else am i gonna see the way i ruin that tight lil’ cunt of yours if i don’t have these?”