**NOT MY GIF**
Logan Howlett X Reader
A/N: rip me oml
Words: 2.4K
Prompt: It’s filth man. Pure, unadulterated filth.
Warnings: it’s smut yo, thigh-riding, need for holy water, swearing, i think that’s it? maybe? possibly? idk I’m too focused on logan pray 4 me
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Stryker was an absolute son of a bitch. That much was fact.
Two missions over the span of a week had you pissed beyond limits. Sitting stiffly on one of the seats with the belt strapped tightly around you, rendering you nearly immobile, you kept your eyes focused on your feet, thinking about why you had even wanted to join the general’s secret band of misfits.
Little did you know how Logan was looking at you, with his nostrils flared and jaw clenched as the jet shook lightly from turbulence. He buried his head in his hands, a soft, barely audible groan leaving his lips.
“Will you guys shut the fuck up?” You demanded, growing annoyed at banter, glaring at Wade’s remark to Victor about his ‘fingernails of a bag lady.’
It was then that you noticed how uncomfortable Logan looked, his eyes glazed over and hands clasped tightly together.
