Rating: NC-17 for strong sex and language
Word Count: 4,699
Spoilers: everything plus a vague reference to a season 3 spoiler
Summary: Finals can be very…arousing
Warning: There’s some voyeurism in this one, so if that’s not your bag, skip it!
Disclaimer: I do not own “Veronica Mars” (try not to be so surprised).
A/N: written for the vm_library challenge issued by taken_for_you. As this is my penance for forgetting to mention that you’re my amazing beta, I offer this up. It’s dirty and it’s as close to fluffy PWP as I can get.
A/N 2: I should probably give credit to my boss at the library where I work for sending out emails like the one that Veronica receives in the fic. Without that email, the plotline for this story might never have happened.
To: firstname.lastname@example.org; email@example.com ; john.desmond @hearst.edu
Subject: Inappropriate Finals Behavior
As you know, finals are once again upon us, and the students are feeling the pressure. This time is difficult on everyone, students and faculty alike, and emotions are running high. Unfortunately, because of the stressful time, students tend to engage in behaviors that are inappropriate for the Hearst College Library.
It was brought to my attention by the cleaning crews that several used condoms have been found in the quiet study rooms. In addition, Barry from Campus Security found two students in flagrante in the microfiche room. Because of this, I am asking you to please be aware of this behavior. If you find students engaging in such actions, do not try to stop them. Call Campus Security immediately and make sure that the perpetrators don’t leave.
I appreciate your willingness to work during this time, and I want your shifts to run as smoothly as possible.
Good luck on your finals!
Veronica glanced at the printed copy of the email that her boss had sent earlier in the week, and a smile played at her lips. She could still hear Logan’s laughter ringing in her ears as he had read it over her shoulder, no care for personal space or privacy, reciting his favorite parts in an eerily good imitation of Louise, urging her to please let him stake out the library and surprise happily humping couples in the name of library sanctity. Veronica had to admit that it was pretty damn funny, especially the way that Louise had so pointedly avoided actually naming the act in question, but she was also mildly disgusted. Ever since getting the email, Veronica had been unable to sit on any furniture in the library without fear that she was sitting in someone’s bodily fluids.
When she had volunteered to work the closing shift for fall semester finals, she had expected things to be delightfully low-key, able to study for her biology final (which was such a ridiculous class to take since she wasn’t a bio major but was forced into a science requirement due to her “fruity liberal arts education,” as her father teased) and finish writing her paper on the shitty ending of Huckleberry Finn. Instead, what she got was a thousand books to shelve, several morons who did not know to print slides off of Blackboard, an hour-long wrestling match with a printer that decided to jam, and last, but not least, the dubious pleasure of working with Mary, who was not only a total ditz, but had also grown up in the Bible Belt and, as such, could not carry on a conversation regarding anything that might infringe upon her moral high ground. Louise always paired girls working the night shift, as she felt that it was unsafe to have a young woman working alone so late at night. However, after being stuck in the library with Mary, who blathered on and on while she did as little actual work as possible, Veronica was willing to show Louise her taser if she didn’t believe Veronica could take care of herself.
So tonight, as Veronica slowly spun herself around in a chair, trying to tune out Mary’s questions on what it was like to have a real boyfriend, cursing the pre-med students that were feverishly studying for their MCATs instead of sleeping like normal people at 1:00 AM, she wondered what it would take to get some sort of reprieve from the hell she had found herself in.
She would not even allow herself the giggle as her prayers were almost immediately answered when Logan swaggered through the doors bearing a large cappuccino from Java the Hut in one hand, and a giant chocolate chip cookie in his other, his eyes glittering with mischief.
“So I’m trying to find a book,” he began, handing her the confections before resting his arms on the counter, leaning in to her as if to share a secret. “It’s an ancient text with the best information on the subject.”
“Do you know the title?”
“The Kama Sutra.”
Veronica grinned. “You’re incorrigible, you know that, right?”
“But you love me anyway,” he said with assurance, leaning the last few inches to brush his lips against hers.
She could taste the coffee on his lips and tongue, and she couldn’t help but chuckle inside. The last time he had visited her at work, he had downloaded gay Harry Potter porn to the desktops of every catalogue computer, and subsequently, Veronica had banned him from coming near the Hearst library except to pick her up.
“You aren’t supposed to be here for another hour,” she chastised, taking a sip of the French vanilla beverage, loving the strong flavor on her tongue.
“But I got so bored,” he complained, sounding like a little boy. “Besides, the manager said if I didn’t leave soon, I would be loitering, and wouldn’t it take the fun out of the evening if you had to bail me out of jail? I mean, haven’t we progressed beyond the posting bail part of our relationship?”
“Yeah, I guess we’re in the handcuff stage now, huh?” she teased, a finger playfully tracing his collar.
Catching her hand, a light flush filling his face, he ordered, “Don’t tease.”
Before Veronica could toss off another sexual innuendo, there was the very distinctive sound of Mary clearing her throat, and Veronica wanted to scream. It wasn’t that Mary wasn’t a nice person; she was fine. What was irritating was that Mary had this fascination with Logan, the kind that made her giggle and interrupt their conversations, which Logan took a devilish delight in. He walked a fine line between flattering her and mocking her, and Veronica couldn't understand how Mary could be so dense. Regardless, “normal” conversations with Mary in the background was a futile effort.
It wasn’t as if their normal discussions revolved around S&M threesomes or Bonnie and Clyde-esque bank robberies. No, mostly their conversations were perfectly mundane, just like any other 19-year-old couples discussions. But there were other times when they talked about things that few others could understand: a blonde girl whose head had been crushed by an ashtray, a father that had beaten his child before seducing and murdering his girlfriend, a mother that had fled drunkenly into the night with $50,000, a friend that had killed, raped, and betrayed before jumping off of the roof of a hotel, a firestorm of media coverage and paparazzi digging through trash cans.
Logan Echolls and Veronica Mars were not like the normal people that walked the pathways of Hearst College and, as such, tended to live in their own insular world of sex, lies, and intrigue, a world where the past was painful, the future uncertain, and the present fragile, thus every second counted. Sometimes it bothered her, but usually it didn’t.
“Hi, Logan,” Mary greeted with a shy smile coupled with a wave that was the equivalent of one that a 13-year-old would give a crush.
Logan smirked, just barely holding in his amusement, and Veronica shot him a look that clearly said not to do anything that would her work environment uncomfortable. “Hey, Mare. How you doing tonight?”
On cue, Veronica’s co-worker blushed. “I’m okay. How’re you?”
“Oh, I can’t complain. I get to hang out here with the two most beautiful girls in Neptune.”
As Veronica rolled her eyes at how thick he was laying it on, Mary just giggled. Logan loved nothing more than to have a captive audience at his disposal, and he had found one in Mary Wilson. It wasn’t even like Veronica could muster up any jealousy, because she knew the likelihood of Logan hooking up with Mary was about as probable as Veronica having a steamy affair with Cliff. What irked her was that he was such an attention whore, that he would shamelessly flirt with a girl that had such a crush on him when he didn’t have any type of feelings for her.
Veronica walked over to the weighted-down book cart and announced, “I’m going to go shelve in the basement. Logan, why don’t you come with me?”
“Why?” he asked, his eyes dancing with mirth.
“Because it’s creepy down there and I might need a big, strong man to protect me,” she retorted in a faux-Southern accent, batting her big blue eyes.
Logan just smiled before turning to Mary. “I’ll talk to you later, sweetie.”
Mary’s blush actually deepened as she muttered some sort of goodbye, her eyes following Logan and Veronica into the elevator. The moment the doors closed, Veronica declared, “You are evil.”
“What?” he asked innocently.
“You know that she likes you and you continue to flirt with her! That’s just mean.”
“No, it’s an ego boost. The girl needs a little confidence, and I’m giving it to her.” Pushing the cart out of the way so he could reach her, he added, “You know you’re the only librarian I want to get with. So what do you say? Feel up to some elevator sex?”
Stopping him with a hand to his chest, she firmly stated, “No,” before pushing the cart out onto the basement level as the doors 'ding'ed open.
Veronica was right about one thing; it was creepy. In addition to being darker than the higher floors because of the lack of natural light and the constant glow of computers, the basement was always dead quiet. Below ground tended to be the place where music majors retreated to because of the group listening rooms, and journalism students for the access to the microfiche machines. Veronica, as a criminal justice major, rarely needed to come down to the lower level, and she strongly preferred it that way.
“Who would actually take out a book called ‘Fungi?’” Logan asked, his voice loud, earning him a rather enthusiastic “Shush!” from a pissed-off med student.
“You have to whisper,” she reminded him, slowly pushing the 300-pound cart through the narrow aisles.
“I’m not a whisperer; I’m a groaner, remember?”
Trying not to reveal how humorous she found his sexual overtones to be, she pulled a stack of books off of the cart and said, “You know your numbers; help me shelve.”
“What? Snookums, haven’t you gotten the message yet? I’m a Hollywood brat; we don’t read, let alone put books back on the shelves.”
“Well, the quicker I get this done, the quicker you can get back to your girlfriend.”
“You aren’t actually jealous of the Virgin Mary, are you?”
Veronica just smiled, turning to shelve her own stack. It wasn’t until he had almost disappeared into the psychology books that she called in a stage-whisper, “Not anymore than you are of Piz!”
She almost burst out laughing at the glare he gave her for that. Piz had been somewhat of a sore subject between them lately. It wasn’t that he was inappropriate in any way, or even disrespectful of what she had with Logan, because he wasn’t. In fact, Piz always made a point of asking about him and inviting Logan along when he, Wallace, and Veronica did something on campus. But that didn’t seem to do anything to dissuade Logan’s fears that one day he would wake up and he’d get a call that Veronica had eloped to Tijuana with Piz.
Glancing at the Dewey decimal numbers on the spine of the book, Veronica made her way down the aisle, arriving at the stacks in front of the microfiche room. She quickly slid the books into place before turning to go back to the cart when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye in the darkened microfiche room. Quietly she moved towards the door and when she saw what was inside, she gasped.
There, in the dim light of the microfiche machine, two upperclassmen were having sex in the rolling desk chair before the machine.
Veronica was no innocent. Since reuniting with Logan, she had been involved in more than her fair share of debauchery; Logan was constantly pushing her limits and she adored him for it. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t seen people having sex before. She had seen HBO After Dark; she had once watched a porno with Logan that had excited him a whole lot more than it had excited her. Hell, she had taken pictures of adulterers for the past two and a half years! It wasn’t like sex wasn’t a part of her life.
So why was she so embarrassed at what she was seeing?
Even worse, why was she so aroused because of it?
"What are you staring at?" Logan asked as he emerged from the stacks, furrowing his brow, curious as to what had his girlfriend so enthralled.
"Nothing," Veronica answered breathlessly, whirling around so fast that she nearly lost her balance and tumbled backwards into the cart.
"Well, who's there? Is it someone we know?"
"It’s nobody," she insisted in a hiss, pushing him backwards, a hand on his chest, desperate to get him as far away from the microfiche room as she could.
Logan, now beyond intrigued, dodged to the side and peeked around the corner, seeing the couple that was slowly riding towards climax. His eyebrows rose to his hairline and he turned, his face holding into a lecherous grin as her face flushed a brilliant shade of maroon. “Well, Veronica Mars, I never pegged you as a Peeping Tom. Well, at least not when cash incentives aren’t offered.”
“Shut up!” she snapped, crossing her arms across her chest.
"Are you embarrassed?" he teased gleefully. "Isn't this old hat for you? Isn’t this Mars Investigations bread and butter?”
“Logan, I swear to God...”
His grin only widened. “You are, aren't you?"
Feeling a desperate need to justify her embarrassment, she defended, "I usually just see the afterglow, not the ..."
"Glow?" Logan supplied in a helpful whisper, his eyes twinkling with merriment.
Very deliberately, Logan stepped around Veronica again, covertly glancing around the shelving unit once more.
"What are you doing?" Veronica panicked, trying to pull him backwards into the safety of the stacks.
"Relax, I'm just going to...</i>peep</i>." He winked at her lasciviously. "You know...make sure they're doing it right."
“They’re doing it fine!”
Full blown delight in his voice, he quipped, “How would you know unless you were looking?”
Veronica's cheeks were on fire; she had never been so humiliated before in her life. She was debating leaving the floor entirely, and thus was completely unprepared when Logan drew her into his arms, backing her up against his chest, a yelp escaping her lips. She immediately began to twitch in his arms, trying to free herself.
“Relax, V,” he sighed into her ear, his breath hot and moist against her skin. “Enjoy the show.”
“Logan, this isn’t...”
He gently covered her mouth with his hand. “Unless you plan on talking dirty, just be quiet and watch.”
The moment his hand moved, she whined, embarrassment in her voice, “Logan, we can’t…”
Deciding to give her an out just in case she truly didn’t want this, he inquired, “You don’t like this? You don’t think it’s…sexy?”
She just moaned, knowing that her lie wouldn’t come close to ringing true, not when something like this was unfolding right before her eyes. As she had her internal monologue weighing the benefits and downfalls of this situation, Logan’s hands slowly slid up her shirt, his fingers lightly brushing the bottoms of her satin covered breasts.
“God, look at them,” he urged, his touch light enough to tantalize but not enough to offer any sense of relief. “Have you ever seen anything as hot as that?”
Unable to stop herself, Veronica turned her attention towards the fornicating couple bathed in the muted light. The girl—a redhead with breasts that looked to be the size of her head—was straddling one of Wallace’s teammates, a tall man with hands that seemed to cover every inch of the redhead’s ass, which was completely visible since her skirt had been pushed up to her waist and could now pass as a belt. They were moving slowly in a rhythm that was as old as time itself, and Chesty McRedhead’s neck was arched, her face the very picture of pleasure as Boyfriend Big Hands lapped at her breasts.
“I bet she really likes that,” Logan continued, the casualness of his tone in complete contradiction to the sensuality it was coupled with. “His tongue just flicking her nipples like that…” He finally slid a hand into the cup of Veronica's bra, his hand hot against her skin, his thumb gently strumming her nipple, now rock hard and just begging to be touched and kissed.
Veronica bit her lip to keep from crying out, the tension in her body greater than she had ever remembered it being. As she tried to collect her thoughts, Logan increased the speed of his thumb and, with his other hand, almost offhandedly unbuttoned her jeans and eased his hand down them though staying atop the matching pink panties.
“I love your tits,” he confessed, tugging the cups of her bra up, leaving her breasts bare beneath her long sleeved Hearst t-shirt, the bra now gathered up around her collarbone. “I know that guys say they like that Pamela Anderson look, but I think you have the perfect body.”
“Built like an adolescent male?” she joked in a futile attempt to dial down the tension but only succeeding in sounding breathy like a porn star.
His chuckle caused her to shiver. “No, someone that fits me. I like that your breasts are the perfect size for my hands, for my mouth.” Beginning to run his fingers along the dampening crotch of her underwear, he continued, “I like that when I hold you, your head fits perfectly into my shoulder. I like that you have to wrap your legs around me to reach my mouth. And I love, I love how inside you feel like you were made just for me.”
With his last word, he abruptly thrust two fingers into her dripping pussy, startling Veronica to the point that she cried out, forgetful of their precarious precision. As the couple inside the room looked up, Logan hastily retreated back into the shadows of the stacks, away from prying eyes. The most amazing thing, even in Veronica’s lust-addled mind, was the fact that he never dislodged his fingers from inside of her, a true testament to his skill.
“Logan,” she panted, trying not to focus on wonderful it felt to have his fingers, so long and thick, pressing against that spot inside of her, that spot that made even more of her pleasure trickle out between her thighs. Nor could she focus on the fact that his left forefinger and thumb were playfully twisting her nipple just hard enough to cause sharp thrills to rush through her. No, what she needed to focus on was getting Logan’s hand out of her pants, righting her bra, and never ever letting Logan Echolls near the Hearst College Library ever again.
“They almost caught us, V,” he pointed out. “Strangers could’ve seen us like this, me with two fingers inside your tight pussy, you riding my hand because you need it so badly. Can you imagine?”
She didn’t want his words to excite her more; she really didn’t. And yet, like with most things with Logan, what she intended to feel and what she actually felt were two very different things.
Pivoting so that Veronica was facing the bookshelf, Logan pressed himself against her ass, letting her feel just how badly he wanted her. He was hard as a rock, his erection pressing painfully against the fly of his jeans, and he wanted nothing more than to fuck her right here and now in the middle of the modern western philosophy section.
“But I wouldn’t ever let that happen,” he continued, working her pants down her legs, widening her stance by deepening the penetration of his fingers and slowly the motion, manipulating her into humping his hand. As he began to work her clit with a practiced thumb, he clumsily shoved his own pants down his legs with his free hand, his dick popping up almost comically.
“Do you know why, babe?”
“Why?” she obediently breathed, her voice catching as her orgasm built, teetering on the edge, needing just a little more friction to achieve bliss.
“Because I’m the only one that ever gets to see you like this. You're mine.”
It was a good thing that Logan covered her mouth as quickly as he did because, when he sheathed himself inside of her in one mighty thrust, his path made easy by the moisture gathered there, she cried out as she exploded into orgasm, her muscles grasping at his invading flesh tightly, a massage for his straining cock. He had done this before; it was a fetish of his to enter her while was coming, justifying it by saying it was the closet he could ever get to actually experience her orgasm. Veronica didn’t care what he needed to rationalize it; she just knew that it always made her come harder and longer when he did.
But as often as he did it, he had never done it while they were standing up or while she was facing away from him. Another one of Logan’s things was that he loved to watch her face as she came, to be able to kiss her while he moved inside of her. Sure, they had done it doggy style before—hell, they had done it every style before—but when it came time to make love, Logan always wanted them to be face to face.
But this wasn’t making love. This was fucking and Veronica was damn glad that there was no need for niceties right now.
“How are you still so fucking tight?” he groaned into her ear, catching it between his teeth and giving it a little tug.
“Are you complaining?” she gasped when he finally moved his hand away.
“Fuck no.” Giving her a few short, shallow strokes followed by one long, slow thrust, he whispered, “Do I feel good, baby?”
“God, you feel amazing,” she replied, clenching tightly around him, prompting him to moan this time. “You like that?”
“So fucking good,” he panted. Pressing a kiss to her neck, he whispered, his voice softened around the edges with love, “No one will ever feel as good as you do, Veronica. We were made for each other.”
Slowly pushing herself up with her hands, bracing against the shelf, Veronica managed to thrust back against him, finally gaining leverage. She wasn’t sure how she got into this position, wasn’t sure how to get out of it, but damn it, she was going to get off while she was here.
Knowing that Logan had never been able to resist begging or dirty talk, she began, “Please, baby, fuck me harder. I can’t stand it. I need you. C’mon!”
Logan groaned, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from shouting out exactly what he wanted to do to her. Gripping her hips tightly in his hands, he began to thrust harder into her, their pelvises banging together roughly, his cock thrusting deep inside of her with every stroke, adding just the right amount of pain to her pleasure to keep it exciting.
“This what you want?” he taunted, driving himself into her with more force.
“Yes!” she gritted out, desperately trying to keep her voice low.
“I can’t make you come like this, sweetheart. You’re gonna hafta do it all by yourself.”
“What?!” she hissed in outrage. If there was one thing she could always count on, it was Logan making sure she always came. Hell, if there was only one trait she could admire about him, it was that. One memorable night, when she just hadn’t been to reach orgasm during sex, he had gone down on her for nearly an hour to make up for it.
Logan Echolls was nothing if not considerate.
Leading her hand down to where they met, he urged, “Do it, baby. If you wanna come, you have to. Just rub your clit like you love me to do. It’s all hard and begging for it.”
“I can’t,” she whimpered, flushing with embarrassment rather than passion. Despite some heavy hints and a few blatant requests, Veronica had never masturbated in front of her boyfriend. She was just too self-conscious, and Logan knew that. However, he didn’t seem to care right now.
“Oh, you can do it better than I can, love. Just act like I’m not even here.”
“Yeah, right,” she scoffed but slowly inched her hand downwards. When her finger brushed over her erect clit, red and throbbing, she trembled, internal muscles clenching around Logan in a vice grip.
“Again!” he ordered roughly into her ear, still picking up speed with his thrusts.
Throwing caution to the wind, knowing she was fulfilling one of Logan's deepest desires, Veronica began to flick her tiny clit back and forth before enthusiastically polishing it with her thumb, her hips pitching backwards to meet Logan and forward to meet her hand. She was biting her lip harshly, wishing she could scream and cry out the way she could in Logan’s apartment, wishing it was Logan that was touching her like this, wishing that Logan could actually watch her doing this, and, before she could really give any consideration as to when she had developed this voyeurism fetish, she felt the pleasure begin to seep into her bloodstream as the tension broke and she came again.
“Logan! Fuck!” was all she could manage, her hand now flying between her legs, trying to get herself off a second time, the way she could some nights when Logan wasn’t available. When she began to peak again, her muscles closed so tightly around Logan that he could no longer hold off his own orgasm.
“Veronica!” he whimpered into her neck, coming inside her tight, warm body, his eyes nearly crossing with pleasure.
As they stood there, breath slowing, heart rates returning to normal, Logan murmured, “We have got to do this more often.”
She chuckled, voice throaty. “I think if we do this here more often, it’ll be illegal for them to pay me.”
Withdrawing from her body with a groan, he began to right his clothes, Veronica doing the same. “You still have shelving to do.”
“Uh-uh, big boy. You have shelving to do. I have to go clean up.”
“What? I’m not getting paid for this!”
“Yeah, but you got to come inside me,” she said in a low, sultry tone. Standing up on tiptoe, she brushed a long, lingering kiss to his lips before saying, “Besides, your girlfriend’s waiting.”
Logan laughed, following her out of the stacks only to immediately run into Chesty McRedhead and Boyfriend Big Hands, who were exiting the microfiche room. Veronica promptly lowered her gaze, ashamed, but Logan just smirked at the boyfriend, who gave him the same knowing smile right back. The couple climbed into the elevator, Logan and Veronica following to get back to the cart and the restrooms, when the redhead asked, “Enjoy the show?” before the doors closed.
Veronica’s jaw dropped in horror but Logan just doubled over with laughter.
* * *
“God, you guys were gone forever!” Mary observed when Logan and Veronica emerged from the basement. “Campus Security’s already been around to help close the place. Did something happen?”
Logan and Veronica exchanged a look, a smile tugging at Veronica’s lips, Logan’s eyes glowing with love and adoration.
“Nah, just had a lot to do,” Veronica replied, trying to keep her voice even.
“Well, Security said we can go.”
“You need a ride back to your dorm?” Logan asked Mary, looping an arm around Veronica’s shoulder.
“No, I’m good.”
Picking up her messenger bag from behind the desk, Veronica said, “We’ll see you later then.”
Veronica wasn’t positive but she was sure she heard Mary sigh before the doors closed, “I so need a boyfriend.”