Shudder

A/N: Or, shutter if you're a fan of puns. Because I am. That's why that's the title. Once again, another oneshot that I semideveloped while writing King of Mars and didn't post. Posting it now because why not? I actually don't have time, I'm just a terrible person. I'm planning another multichaptered fic, so I might as well enjoy posting completed things… This is an AU fic and just a little (Edit: a lot) smuttier than what I usually write. Veronica's a professional photographer, and Logan's an actor who has hired Veronica to be his wedding photographer. This would be an AU in which they have never met before. Enjoy. ^^

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"So, you're the photographer I'm pissing my money away on?"

"Yep," Veronica replied.

He crossed his arms and regarded her appraisingly. "How's the wedding look?"

"Just peachy."

After a lengthy silence that was not entirely uncomfortable, he leaned against one of the marble columns his newly wedded wife had installed into the courtyard for the wedding. Trying again to provoke some sort of reaction from her, he casually commented, "You're at a wedding, you know. You could try smiling."

She briefly tore her focus away from her camera to tell him, "No. You're at a wedding. I'm at work. Do you smile all the time when you're working?"

Settling in further against the column, he grinned. "No. But that's probably because my current role is a newly widowed husband. Not much smiling needed."

"Planning ahead, I see."

"Nah. Even if she is a bitch, I can't kill her. I'm entirely too pretty for prison."

Veronica focused her lens on the string quartet playing in the grass rather than the person who was getting increasingly closer to her. A part of her wished he'd stick to the column. A part. "Don't you have someone else to bother? You are at a wedding, you know," she mocked. "Yours, if I recall."

"I thought I'd do myself a favor and keep the only other sober person company."

"You chose an interesting day to stop drinking."

"Actually, it's been about three years now. Don't you read the papers?"

"I generally don't read anything that lists sex tips as one of its headlining articles."

"Yeah. Even from over there, I could tell you didn't need the tips either."

Veronica arched her eyebrow in challenge. "No. I wouldn't."

In a voice one would use to inquire about the weather, he suggested, "Care for a threesome with me and the new missus later then?"

She laughed sharply, and he counted it as a victory. "Even you can't pay me enough for that. Points for being able to afford me as a photographer though."

"I'm not hearing no."

"No, Mr. Echolls."

Undeterred, he continued, "Just a twosome then? Fine. But since I'm already breaking so many rules for you, I'll have to be firm and say only minimal cuddling after. I have a honeymoon to go on after all."

Veronica snapped a few more pictures of the adorable flower girl dancing with a reluctant ring bearer before turning back to examine him. She asked him with a critical eye, "Are you sure you're not drunk?"

"I'd be enjoying this farce of a celebration a lot more if I were."

She tapped the side of her camera, contemplating the situation. "Call me crazy, but are you sure you were supposed to marry her? Like, did you get 'propose' and 'proposition' mixed up somehow?"

Logan chuckled. "Nope. She's the one. Got her name tattooed on my ass too. Property of … something or other. I can't remember who won the argument between using either 'honeypie' or 'bitch' in lieu of her actual name."

When Veronica didn't respond, Logan said, "It doesn't seem like you do much for the amount we're paying."

"Oh, I don't know. I'm tolerating you pretty well right now. That takes a lot of effort. Trust me."

.

Half an hour later, they were in a private gazebo located far away from the rest of the party. His head was in between her thighs as she sat on the bench with her legs spread, lace panties twisted around one of her ankles. He was making his way slowly up to her center, and she wouldn't dare stop him even if the gazebo were on fire. The tease.

Transiently, she thought, perhaps if she were less disillusioned with the sanctimony of marriage, she wouldn't be in the process of fucking the groom on his wedding day. But, a flick of his tongue dispelled most coherent thought from her mind. And, as it was, her moral fiber left when her mother did.

"I'm marrying her for the publicity, you know," he said, pausing.

She groaned in frustration and rudely remarked, "I didn't really ask. Nor do I care. Stop talking and keep doing that thing with your tongue. Right there."

Impatiently, Veronica's hands pushed at his head, but he pulled back again, explaining, "Just thought you'd want to know in case you were worried about ruining a marriage."

With a glare, she asked, "Do I look concerned?"

"My position leaves me at a disadvantage, darling. I can't tell anything from down here except that you're really enjoying yourself. As am I, by the way."

"Wrong. I was enjoying myself. Before you started talking about all that nonsense." When he didn't continue, she sighed, adjusting herself and pulling him up by his shoulders to face her as best she could with her sitting and Logan kneeling in front of her. "Do you know how many high society weddings I've done, Mr. Echolls? I can pretty much pinpoint when a marriage is going to end at this point just by watching the wedding."

Intrigued, he asked, "How long do you think my fake wedding's got?"

"I'm not sure if it'd apply since it's fake. But, my money is on eight months. Just long enough to finish promoting your movie and well enough after sales have dropped off so people can't say you did it for the publicity. Oh, don't look so surprised. I said I wasn't sure if it'd apply, but I didn't say I wouldn't know anyway. It's not the first time I've shot a fake celebrity wedding."

After processing that bit of information, he regained his composure and stated, "Well, I hope it's the first time you've fucked the groom."

She rolled her eyes but was grateful he accepted the situation for what it was. Aggressively, she pushed him backwards flat onto his back and knelt down off the bench to straddle him properly. Rolling her hips against his, she asked, "Remind me. Have we fucked yet?"

He released a short chuckle in amusement and pleasure. Placing his hands on the sides of her hips to balance her and hold her in place, he thrust up against her in response.

Emitting her own sounds of approval, she tilted her head down to grin back at him. "Well, that feels like a no, but I'm not convinced."

She bent down to kiss him and he met her more than halfway, shifting so she was pressed flush against him.

She tasted her own arousal on his lips and slid her tongue in deeper, robbing him of coherency. Lifting herself up just enough to make room for her hand to snake down in between them, she pushed the fabric of her dress, sticky from sweat, to the side and undid his belt. He met her hand with his own. Each click of his zipper being pulled down served to heighten her anticipation, and he eagerly helped her push his pants and boxers down to his thighs before she resettled down on him.

Veronica's skin burned where her body made contact with his. It was maddening. But, catching sight of his parted lips and unfocused eyes, she knew she wasn't the only one feeling feverish. She wanted to kiss him again where the sweat glistened against his temple. But, first.

Her previous grin quirked into a wolfish smile as she held his chin and forced him to face her, making sure he was at least could see what she was doing, and licked her palm with the flat of her tongue, making it slick.

His pupils dilated, but his gaze intensified.

Without breaking eye contact, she took advantage of his attention and lightly ran her fingers along his length before encircling her fingers around him. She started slow, achingly so, reveling in the power she had over him. He grunted loudly before roughly gripping her hand in his and quickening her pace, thrusting into it and almost bucking her balance.

Breathlessly, she said, "Impatient, are we?"

"Shut. Up."

Chuckling to herself, she pushed his hand away and, before he could complain, unceremoniously impaled herself onto him without warning. Both exhaled sharply, not resisting the new feeling.

Instinctively, Veronica's body rocked against him, leaving no part of her unfilled. She felt as if he were branding her from the inside with each movement.

"Not enough," he managed, before taking control of the pace once more.

The heat between them sparked furiously, almost blinding her. They easily found their rhythm but demanded more from each other.

Flashes of hot white imprinted against her eyelids as they fluttered closed. She saw stars going supernova.

Veronica felt his hands tighten against her hips at what should've been painful but only added to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure she felt unrelentingly forcing her to submit. Submit to what, she didn't know, but she knew she'd be rewarded soon. Her entire body tensed around him, and the pressure continued to build from deep inside her.

Desperately, searching for release in the dark, she begged him, "Please."

Increasing to a frenzied pace to meet her request, Logan quickly filled her again and again until finally, a dam broke within her, releasing bursts of pleasure that bordered on the fringes of pain. Her back remained arched and her eyes stayed shut as he cruelly kept her from coming down. Each thrust caused whimpers to fall from her beautiful lips.

And, with her own senses overloaded, she had only belatedly realized he had finished when he wrapped his arms around her and let his head fall back and rest against the floor of the gazebo.

Catching his breath, he tucked her in the crook of his arm and ventured, "So, when can I see you again?"

"I don't know," she said honestly, too happy to do much of anything but snuggle in closer.

He thought about it for a moment before asking, "Care to photograph my divorce?"

She sighed, "I was hoping for something earlier than eight months from now."

"Why, Miss Mars, I'm a married man."

"Fake married," she pointed out, definitely not caring.

"Not in the eyes of God."

"You mean, the same God who just saw us together?"

"I figured he had the decency to at least look away."

"Ha."

"If I get things annulled tomorrow morning, do I have a chance?"

"Make it tonight."

"Tonight then," he promised. "So, do I?"

"You do."

"I do," he repeated, grinning like a fool.

Moments later, during which Veronica felt truly fulfilled, Logan couldn't resist adding, "You know, it felt a lot dirtier saying that with you now than it did a few hours ago."

Swiftly, she grabbed her half-forgotten camera on the bench behind them and snapped a picture of him with his pants down and disheveled, threatening to blackmail him with it for the unwelcomed sentiment.

Slightly disoriented from the flash, he unwisely insisted, "Come on, it was a little funny."

That earned him a punch in the chest.

.

A/N: I'm actually not sure why I wrote this. Or even finished it. At some points, I kind of forgot there was supposed to be a plot. Could you tell? Anyway, that was the last of my semi-planned half-finished oneshots, so I hope you enjoyed them. I'm not sure if I'll be writing more of these, but there will definitely be more Logan/Veronica stories to come.