#silent whispers logan | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imaginedisish · 2 months ago

Text

Everlong (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: This was not a request, just a thought I had and had to get out. "Everlong" by Foo Fighters just scratches my brain in a way very few songs can, and it fits perfectly for this fic. Hope you guys enjoy.

Summary: Logan offers you his bed as a friend, knowing how hard it is for you to fall asleep alone. But after months of sleeping next to him platonically, things finally take a turn...

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT! Thigh riding, Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), Cockwarming, praise kink, breeding kink (if you squint), cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, non-sexual intimacy to sexual intimacy, friends to lovers, man-handling, rough sex, afab!reader/f!reader, feelings, fluff, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,619 jeeeeeeezzzzz this is DEPRAVED

Sleep was hard—that is, until you started sleeping in Logan’s bed.

It had all started out so innocent. You were sitting on a couch in the study, flicking through the pages of your favorite book. You had just finished your fourth lap around the grounds of the mansion, and you decided you needed a break. The clock on the wall read 2:22 AM, mocking you, reminding you that of all the gifts you have, sleeping would never be one of them.

“What’re you doing awake?” You jumped at the voice breaking up the silence, but quickly recognized its bassy, deep tone. You turned to face Logan in the doorway.

“Just can’t sleep,” you answered, shrugging your shoulders. He wore a beater and gray sweatpants, and you struggled against the urge to trail your eyes up and down his body. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him—you’ve wanted him for months.

Logan crossed his arms against his chest and smiled softly. “Can’t sleep either,” he said, taking a step closer. “You can come up to my room, if you want” he offered. “Next time you can’t sleep, or you have a nightmare, or you just can’t think of anything to do, come find me.”

You smiled at his words, at his kindness, at his willingness to help you. “Thank you, Logan,” you whispered.

“No problem, princess.” And then he turned to leave, walking back through the hallway and up the stairs to his room.

You’re still not sure what came over you in those following moments—still don’t understand where your confidence came from—but you forced yourself up from the couch and down the hall, following Logan’s path to his room.

He was already inside, already had the door closed, so you knocked. And the door immediately swung open. You swallowed, parting your lips nervously. “Lo, do you think I could take you up—”

But he didn’t even let you finish. He grabbed your arm and tugged you into the darkness of his room, navigating you carefully to his bed. He laid you down and walked to the other side, climbing in next to you. He brought the covers over your bodies, shuffling under the sheets, settling in, and then everything was silent.

You tried to get comfortable. You rolled onto your stomach and waited, eyes shut tight, hoping that sleep would take you under its current. But it didn’t. You rolled back onto your side, away from Logan, opening and closing your eyes frustratedly.

“You okay?” He asked. You could hear Logan inching towards you, his front suddenly pressing against your back.

You hummed in affirmation, leaning your back into him. He reached a tentative arm around your waist and pulled you into his chest. “Is this okay?” He husked, his lips at the shell of your ear.

“Yeah,” you panted into the darkness of his room, taking shallow breaths, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You could smell him everywhere—on the sheets, the pillowcase, in the air of the room. It was all leather and musk and pine and denim. And there he was, holding you, his thumb drawing soft circles into your slightly exposed midriff. Something about it was overwhelming, but also comforting, as though all your senses were being cradled by him.

He could hear your heart beating, could hear your breath catching in your throat. “Relax,” he whispered. “I’ve got you. Go to sleep.” Your eyes fluttered closed, and you focused on Logan’s breathing. It was constant, stable, steadfast. He was so warm, so solid. And soon enough, you found yourself giving in to sleep.

You woke up a few hours later, the pale light of the moon still pushing through the curtains. Logan’s legs were tangled with yours, your face pressed into the center of his chest, his arm wrapped around your back, holding you tight. You tried to lift your head to read the clock behind you on the nightstand.

But Logan pulled you back down. “Go back to sleep,” he murmured against the crown of your head. “Too early.”

That’s how most nights have been since then—climbing into his bed, completely innocently, just to be able to sleep. He holds you all night, keeping you close. And when the sun finally rises, you both get up and head down to the kitchen, watching as Logan brews you a pot of coffee.

It’s shockingly domestic and incredibly intimate. And yet, the two of you have never talked about it. It’s a silent agreement, one based on pattern, convention, and repetition. These very events have played out more times than you can count—for months now. It has become so normalized that you don’t question it, don’t even think about it when you crawl into his bed, and he pulls you into his chest.

So, tonight starts out like any other. Your feet pad along the dark, mahogany wood floors, down the dim, quiet hallway, towards Logan’s room. You’re only wearing a pair of panties and one of Logan’s old t-shirts, the hem falling to the middle of your thighs.

You stand in front of his door and knock. You aren’t nervous anymore—aren’t anxious as he opens the door. He’s already shirtless, wearing just his boxers—which, however, is something you will never get used to. He smiles, his eyes trailing up and down your body as he steps to the side, inviting you in.

You know the drill by now—you walk to your side of the bed, lying down and pulling the covers up to your chin. Logan follows suit. You move in silence, but it’s a comfortable silence. It’s a silence shared by two people who don’t have to say a word, don’t have to communicate to feel connection. His arms wrap around your body, and he tugs you into his chest.

“Didn’t see you today,” he mumbles, his lips brushing your forehead. “Wish I could’ve.” His fingertips graze up and down your back, your t-shirt hitching up as you get comfortable, revealing your bare legs.

“I’m here now,” you whisper, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, smelling him, letting him overtake your senses. He tangles your legs with his.

“Is this my shirt, by the way?” he asks, his hands sliding down to the hem, which is now bunched up above the waistband of your panties.

You smile into his neck. “Maybe,” you answer, giggling softly.

His fingertips slip just under the t-shirt, tentative and hesitant, waiting for you to push him away, to tell him no. But you don’t. “Looks better on you than it does on me,” he husks, his thigh settling between your legs so that you’re straddling it.

“Th-thanks,” you stutter, trying to ignore the way he bumps against your core, the way his words make your heart race. You shut your eyes and wrap your arms around his center, letting him engulf you in his warmth. You swallow your feelings down and close your eyes. “Night, Lo,” you mutter.

“Night, princess,” he says, his lips against the crown of your head.

You listen carefully to his breathing, like you always do, and after a few moments, you find yourself falling asleep.

When you wake up a few hours later, your back is against Logan’s front. His arm keeps you pressed tightly to his chest, his nose nudging against the crook of your neck—you can feel his breath, warm on your skin. Your legs are intertwined, his knee just inches away from your core.

Logan moves in his sleep, his knee bumping against your core now, his nose nuzzling into your neck, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin just under your ear. You take a deep breath, pleasure pulsing between your thighs as Logan moves again, his thigh dragging against you. You can’t help the moan that falls from your lips.

He moves again, and that’s when you feel it—his erection stiff against the curve of your ass. Heat spreads across your chest, up to your neck, your stomach somersaulting as his hips press harder into your ass.

“L-Lo,” you stutter into the darkness of his room. But he doesn’t answer. His thigh slides against your core again. You can feel the wetness pooling between your legs, soaking your panties. “Logan,” you choke, moaning louder this time.

He hums in response, nuzzling his nose deeper into your neck, his lips pressing against your skin—the ghost of a kiss. It’s too much—you want to grind down on his thigh, want to feel his cock pressing against your ass, want to feel his hips rutting against yours. You thought maybe this would happen, hoped that one night would lead to something like this, but you never dreamed it would actually come to pass.

Logan’s thigh rubs against your heat again, and you mumble his name, your breathing quickening. “Fuck,” you groan, involuntarily bucking your hips against Logan’s. His erection drags along your ass.

You force yourself to be still as Logan grunts into your neck. “You awake, pretty girl?” He whispers against your ear.

“Mhm,” you murmur, trying to play half-asleep. You don’t want to let on that you can feel him hard against you, and you pray you aren’t soaking through your panties and onto his thigh.

You swear you can hear him mumble a soft fuck under his breath. Your thoughts race around your head. Maybe he was awake the whole time. Maybe he felt your hips roll against him. Maybe he can smell the arousal growing between your thighs. You know he can hear your heart hammering against your ribcage.

But his arm tightens its grip around your waist, and he pulls you closer, holding you down against his thigh. “What were you doing, sweetheart?” He rasps, pressing a true, open-mouthed kiss to your neck. You gasp, a shiver running down your spine.

“Wh-what do you mean?” You stutter, stumbling around your words as he kisses your neck again, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just under your ear.

He moves his knee, pressing harder into your core, dragging his thigh against your aching heat. You stifle a moan as he repeats the motion. “Felt you riding me, pretty girl,” he huffs, his hands gripping your waist, guiding your hips along his thigh. “Smelt you, too,” he whispers, his lips still at your neck. “Can feel that pretty, wet pussy dripping on me, darlin’.”

“Logan,” you whine, letting him move your hips back and forth. The pressure feels so good. You need more. “Please…” You trail off, grinding down onto him.

“Making a fucking mess of me, aren’t you?” He teases, his fingers gripping your hips like iron, so tight he might bruise. “Love watching you get off on me.” His voice is dark and honeyed, smooth like expensive liquor. Your walls clench around nothing as your clit drags along Logan’s thigh and you moan, throwing your head back against his shoulder. “So sensitive, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you pant, letting him pull you back and forth. You’ll take anything you can get—anything he’s willing to give to you. “D-don’t stop,” you beg.

“Fuck,” Logan grunts. “Need me that bad, huh?”

“Y-you have no idea,” you stammer. He bites your pulse point as one of his hands wraps around your front, slipping inside your panties and finding your clit. “Oh fuck, Lo,” you whine, the pads of his fingers drawing tight, rapid circles around the bud.

“That feels good, pretty girl?” You can hear the smirk in his voice. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, and he’s getting off on it. You can feel his erection hard against your ass every time his hips buck into yours. “Bet it does, the way you’re soaking my thigh.”

“So fucking good,” you whimper. But you know you need more. You need him. “Logan, please…” You trail off, the words escaping you as pleasure pulses through your body.

“Please what, darlin’?” He teases, his fingers pulling out of your panties, his hands gripping your hips again, rolling you against his thigh. It’s not enough, and you groan at the loss of contact. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“N-need more,” you croak, dragging yourself along him.

“More what, beautiful?” But you know he knows. You know he wants to hear you beg for it, wants to hear you beg for him.

“More of you,” you choke out.

“Yeah?” He chides, slowing the roll of your hips with his iron grip. “More of me how?” He’s so goddamn cocky, so unfair.

“I-I…” your eyes roll back into your head as he slowly, teasingly drags you up his thigh, pulling you against his erection and holding you there. “However you want me,” you whisper, pushing against his cock. “Just want you.”

He suddenly pulls away, his grip on your hips forcing you into the mattress as he rolls on top of you, caging you in, his hands on either side of your head.

Logan’s lips crash down onto yours, swallowing you hungrily, his teeth grazing your lower lip and licking away the pain. You part your lips, inviting him inside, tasting his tongue against yours. He slides a hand down your body, stopping at the hem of your shirt and yanking it up. He breaks the kiss to slip the shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor. He sits up on his knees, his eyes trailing your body, settling on your bare breasts.

“So fucking beautiful,” Logan praises, lowering down over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand glides up your side and to your breasts. He palms your flesh, rolling his thumb over your pebbled nipple, pinching lightly. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” He traces across the valley of your breasts, his hand massaging the other side.

He grinds his hips into yours, his erection nudging against your core. “Wanted you so bad, pretty girl,” he pants, pressing another kiss to your lips. His fingertips drag down your body, gripping your hip tightly again. “Dreamed of fucking you, of tasting you.” He buries his face into the crook of your neck as he pushes you into the mattress, biting down on your pulse point. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me.”

You moan as he sucks at your sensitive skin. “Want you, Lo. Need you,” you whine, your arms wrapping around his back, nails digging into his skin. “Always wanted you.”

He kisses a trail down your neck, to your collarbone, between the valley of your breasts. He slides down your body, peppering light kisses across your stomach, stopping at the hem of your panties. He looks up at you, his face illuminated by the pale, blue moonlight. You can see the desperation in his eyes, the need. He licks his lips—a man starved—as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties.

He tugs them down your legs, throwing them to the floor, and settles between your thighs. His face is just inches from your aching heat. Your chest heaves as he brings himself closer, his breath fanning across your cunt. You look down at him and find him staring up at you, watching your every move.

“Wanna know what you taste like, darlin’,” he huffs, his palms splaying on your inner thighs, spreading your legs wide open for him. “Want me to make you feel good?” His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs possessively.

“Y-yes,” you stammer, already arching your back off the mattress. “Please, Logan.”

He smiles, his eyes still trained on yours as his tongue swipes through your folds, long and slow, all the way up to your clit. “Fuck,” he mumbles against your core, flicking your clit, lapping at it twice before starting all over again. He licks another teasing stripe through your folds, landing on your clit and taking the bud between his lips this time. He sucks roughly, releasing your clit and swirling soothing circles around it. “You taste so perfect. Better than I ever imagined.”

He laves at you, devouring you, his head buried against your cunt. His right hand climbs up your inner thigh, nearing your folds as his teeth graze your clit. Your hips jolt back at the sudden feeling, and Logan is quick to slide his left hand under your thigh. He grips tightly, yanking you back to him, and pressing his face deeper into your cunt. “Don’t even think about it, pretty girl. You’re not going anywhere until I’m finished with you.”

You moan at his words, his right hand finally working its way up to your folds. His fingertips find your entrance, spreading your slick. “So fucking wet for me,” he murmurs, prodding your slit. “Want my fingers, darlin’?”

“Yes, Lo, please. Want all of—” He thrusts two long, thick fingers deep inside you, down to his knuckles. “Oh, fuck,” you cry out as he pulls out and slams back in.

His tongue swirls around your clit, his teeth grazing the bud every time he takes it between his lips to suck. It’s overwhelming, overstimulating, the way he laps at you, drinking you in, consuming you. If he could find a way to keep your taste on his tongue all day, he would. If he could slip under your skin to be one with you, to feel your warmth, he would. You know this isn’t want. This isn’t lust. This isn’t some one-off thing. This is need. This is longing.

Your eyes roll back into your head as he breathes you in, his tongue working at your clit as his fingers thrust in and out, dragging along your walls, scissoring inside you. “Doing so good for me, sweetheart,” Logan praises, and you clench down around him at the words. He smiles against your cunt. “You like that, don’t you? Like when I tell you just how good of a girl you are.”

Your walls flutter around him again. “I-I do,” you admit, your voice shaky as he fucks into you, hitting that sweet spot inside you with every pump of his fingers.

Logan chuckles darkly, the reverberation pulsing against your clit. “That’s my good girl, giving me what I’ve been waiting for,” he huffs, lapping at you, sucking on your clit like it’s candy. “Would’ve waited forever for you.”

Your muscles contract and release at his words, at the intimate confession. “Would’ve waited forever for y-you too,” you whimper, his fingers still working you open. You’re so close. Fire burns at the base of your spine, your walls clenching around Logan’s fingers again as his tongue draws tight, rapid circles into your bud.

“No more waiting, beautiful,” Logan grunts, and you know what he means—he knows you’re close. “Wanna feel you come around my fingers, wanna taste it.” It isn’t a request; it’s a command. His fingers plunge deeper, his tongue laving at your clit roughly between sentences. “Know you’re ready to let go, sweetheart. Don’t hold back. Come for me.”

You’re crashing down, falling, but not into nothingness—into Logan, into his warmth, into his touch. Your chest heaves and the room spins. Heat pours from deep at the bottom of your belly, fire spreading up your spine. Nothing has ever felt like this. His name is the only thing you can think, the only thing you can say: Logan Logan Logan Logan.

His pumps slow down, his fingers dragging gently along your inner walls until he stills inside you and carefully pulls out. His tongue is still lapping at you, still working your overstimulated clit.

“Logan,” you whine, your hands finding his head, digging your nails into his scalp. “Want you.”

He smirks against you, knowing full well what he’s doing. “You have me, darlin’.”

You groan, half in frustration, half in pleasure—the tension building back up between your thighs with every flit of Logan’s tongue. “Please,” you beg, tugging on Logan’s hair. He grunts at the feeling, smiling against your cunt again. “I want you, Logan.”

“Gotta be more specific, pretty girl,” he huffs, his face finally separating from your cunt. Your release glistens on his chin, his lower lip. He brings his fingers to his mouth as he waits, wrapping his lips around his fingers and sucking, savoring the taste of you.

“Want you inside me…” You trail off, watching as his fingers pop out of his mouth, his tongue darting out along his lower lip, rationing every drop of you he can find. “Want your cock,” you finally choke out.

The corner of Logan’s mouth turns up, his fingers hooking into his boxers and tugging them down. “Wanna fuck you so bad, beautiful,” he grunts, his cock springing free, bouncing against his stomach. He’s so much bigger than you had anticipated. You swallow nervously as he lowers himself down over you, resting on his forearm. “Thought about this for so long.”

His hand wraps around the base of his cock, guiding himself to your folds. He swipes through you, spreading your slick, notching against your clit. You moan at the contact, your chest coming flush with Logan’s as your back arches off the mattress. “Logan, please,” you beg. “Just want you. Only ever gonna—”

He plunges deep inside you, down to the hilt with one thrust. You’ve never felt so full—his cock thick and long, splitting you open. His presses a kiss to your lips, swallowing your moans as his tongue darts out, tangling with yours. He’s still inside you, stretching you out, allowing you to adjust to the size of him. “You okay, pretty girl?” He asks as his lips part from yours.

“Y-yes,” you stammer, your arms wrapping around his back. “Feels good. So big.”

Logan pulls out and thrusts back in, splitting you open again. “Fuck,” he groans, his forehead resting against yours. “So fucking perfect. So tight, so warm. Made for me, darlin’.” Your eyes flutter open and closed as his free hand slips between your bodies, quickly finding your clit.

“Lo,” you whine as his fingers draw tight, rapid circles into the bud. He sets his pace, pumping in and out of your cunt with reckless abandon. His hips rock against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing along the walls of the room.

“Knew you’d feel like this,” Logan soothes, flicking your clit as he fucks into you. “Knew you’d feel this good. Wanna be inside you forever, princess.”

His lips find yours again, his teeth tugging on your lower lip and then sucking the pain away. It’s rushed and frantic, like he’s dying for more, searching for a way to reach deeper inside you, to feel all of you at once.

He ruts into you, his hips snapping, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. He pinches your clit roughly, and your back arches off the mattress, your chest pressing against his.

“No idea how much I wanted you…” You trail off as his cock pounds into you. He’s still stretching you out, still working you open.

Logan moans your name, his cock throbbing at your words. “Wanted to fuck you that first night you came in here,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. “Wanted you before that too. Knew I needed you the second I saw you.”

The confession rocks through you. You think of all those nights spent next to Logan, all those stolen moments. He wanted you—needed you the whole time.

“Lo,” you hiccup, his fingertips swirling your clit, his hips rocking against yours. He sinks deep inside, again and again, pumping in and out. Your walls flutter around his cock, dragging him in deeper.

“Fuck, pretty girl,” he groans, sliding out and plunging back in. “Squeezing me so good, taking me so well.”

Tears brim in the corners of your eyes at the pure pleasure drumming through your bones. You know you’re close, know you’re almost unraveling underneath him. Logan flicks your clit, drawing hard, rough strokes around the bud. You’re on fire, and you’re burning for him.

“Logan I-I…” You stumble around your words, unable to form a coherent sentence as he pounds into you. Your walls flutter around him again, and his cock twitches inside you at the feeling.

He groans, your name on his tongue like a prayer. “I know you’re close, pretty girl.” He throbs inside you, and you know he’s almost there too. “Wanna make you come again,” he grunts, pulling out and pumping back in. “Know you have another one in you, sweetheart.”

He’s right. You can’t hold on much longer, but you want this moment to last. You want to feel his cock dragging along your walls, filling you up, splitting you open. You want his chest flush against yours. You want to feel the way he bites your lip and sucks away the sting he leaves behind. You want it all—all of him—and you don’t just want it right now. You don’t want this to be a fleeting moment. You want it to be forever.

“Come on, beautiful,” Logan pants, his pace faltering, his hips stuttering. He twitches inside you again. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He strokes your clit, drawing those quick circles into the bud. “Let go for me. Know you want to,” he breathes, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

His words overwhelm you, and you let go. It’s all more forceful this time, more powerful, your body trembling, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as wave after wave of pleasure tears through your body. It feels like blinding, searing heat, spreading like a forest fire.

Logan is right behind you, moaning your name, his cock throbbing against your walls. “Gonna fill you up, pretty girl,” he husks, his chest heaving. You whisper a soft, pleading yes. “Fuck, gonna make you mine,” he moans. His cock throbs again, and then he’s spilling inside you, filling you with his release.

His fingers rub gentle strokes into your clit, his cock slowly pumping in and out before stilling inside you. His fingers slip away from your clit, his hand traveling up your body, and rolling you over so that you’re side by side, facing each other. He pulls you into his chest, his cock still deep inside you.

Logan’s arms wrap around your back, caressing your bare skin, tracing patterns and shapes with his fingertips. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head as you bury your face into his chest.

“Wanna stay inside you,” he mumbles against your hair. “Wanna keep you close.”

“You can,” you whisper, your heart hammering. “Wanna stay close, too.”

He presses another kiss to your head. “I’m not going anywhere,” Logan soothes, his fingers running up and down your spine. “Gonna want you forever.”

You lift your head to look up at him, his eyes immediately meeting yours. “Forever?” You ask, but you know it’s a dumb question. You know he’s telling the truth.

He smiles and nods. “Would’ve waited for you forever,” he says, pausing, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “Never felt this way before, pretty girl. Never felt this real, this perfect. Don’t wanna let you go.”

“Don’t,” you whisper into the darkness of his room. “Please.”

“I won’t,” he coos, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I won’t.”

His breathing steadies, and you listen to him like you do every night. Your eyes flutter shut, and you drift off to sleep with Logan’s cock deep inside you.

Forever. You think as your mind goes quiet and sleep drags you under. Forever.

Everlong.

tags: @ricefordays-blog1 @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @alsoprettyinpink @figsnpassionfruits @spiderset @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @starrdustss @wittyjasontodd @pedrohoe04 @fanfic-writing-barbie @evasmlp @derbygracie @cosmiccandydreamer @honeyfewr @movhoney @manipulatour @rammakela *I am so sorry if I forgot to tag you*

5K notes · View notes

robo-writing · 2 months ago

Text

Logan with a praise kink <3 (18+)

There’s something deep inside him that he refuses to acknowledge—maybe it’s instinct. A need rather than a want, one that has been neglected for far too long. One that he hadn’t even realized until you became a part of his life—the need to feel wanted.

“Logan, could you—“

He’s on his feet within before you can finish your sentence, almost hovering over you. “What’dya need?”

You point to the plates on the shelf, farther than you can manage to reach. You smile at him when he grabs them for you, giving a kiss to his cheek when you take them from his hands.

“Thank you baby,” you say, and his heart melts.

For the longest time he believed he was a lone wolf, solitary and isolated. He did better without anyone dragging him down, or so he thought until he was shown otherwise. The X-Men, and then you—he especially enjoys being with you. Makes him feel fuzzy and warm inside knowing you actually want him around.

It feels good. He doesn’t realize how good until he’s balls deep inside you.

You’re always so pliant for him, willing and ready to indulge his every sinful desire, arms open and legs spread. Inviting. Between tangled sheets and hushed whispers you make him feel alive. You make him feel like a man, and not a monster.

“Make me feel so good,” you moan, running your hands through his hair. His ego inflates with every word, hypnotized by you.

“Yeah? Say it again for me darling,” he says, bringing you further and further onto his cock. Your eyes roll back, barely able to respond when his dick makes it hard to breathe, thrusting up into you like a man starved.

“You—fuck—make me feel good—“

You cry out his praise like worship, too lust-adled to give a damn about your volume. Maybe it’s the saccharine tone you use, or maybe it’s the aphrodisiatic look you give him, but he needs more of it—more of you.

Without warning his hips move against your own, grinding into your pussy. Slow, calculated, he watches your eyes roll back in pleasure as he presses against your soft spots each and every time.

“Say it again baby, tell me how good I make you feel,” he grunts, enjoying how you thrash around his cock. His words alone make you embarrassingly hot, your head falling to his shoulders as you weakly cry his name.

Your voice hiccups with each thrust, every noise that escapes you directly in his ear. “S good Lo’, need you—please—“

His grin stretches wide at your words. “You need me baby, is that it?”

“Yes,” you moan, “need you to fuck me—“

You beg him so nicely, nails climbing up his back in search for more. Your hips find a rhythm of their own against his, a silent plea to fuck you like you need it.

His words alone make you embarrassingly hot, your head falling to his shoulders as you weakly cry his name. Your voice hiccups with each thrust, every noise that escapes you directly in his ear as you come, coating his dick in your juices—

Yeah, he could get used to this.

#Robo writes #xmen #Logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #another bit of a Drabble #trying to get back into the swing of writing

3K notes · View notes

joelsgoldrush · 3 months ago

Text

“give me all of that ultraviolence” | 2k

logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: You give Logan head for the first time.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ implied age gap. dirty talk. kind of inexperienced reader. oral sex (m receiving). face fucking. dom!logan. a tiny bit of degradation. he guides you through the whole experience (shocking!!! i know)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HI PALS!!! yes i'm alive and kicking. yes university is killing me. so recently i’ve been OBSESSED with this man and i needed to write something for him. english is not my first language and i may have made some mistakes (if you encounter any you can tell me, i won't mind it). comments/likes/reblogs would be highly appreciated. i've got sooooo many ideas to write and i'm finally getting my hands on them. i missed you all so fucking much. hope you enjoy this!!!

It’s common knowledge that all humans have needs. Try as you may, there’s a primitive side that you can’t spare yourself from. You, as everybody else, have urges.

“Logan,” you basically mewl his name, five letters that roll off your tongue with little effort. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge you, his kisses growing harsher on the delicate skin of your neck. Threading your fingers through his hair, you decide to try again, speaking a bit louder this time. “Logan, please.”

“What is it, honey?” he says, bitten lips still pressed to your pulse point. As you remain silent, he looks up at you, those big, brown eyes that you love so dearly almost completely dark now. “Do you want to call it a day?”

His question catches you off-guard. You cup his face, thumbs caressing his cheekbones, suddenly afraid that he might pull away from you. “No! Not at all. That’s- that’s not what I want at all, actually.”

“What do you want, then? You can tell me,” he kisses you on the lips, softly at first. What starts as nothing more than a sweet kiss turns into a needier one, his hard on poking you through your shorts. “Come on. Tell me, baby. What does my sweet girl want?”

“I want to suck you off, Logan,” you whisper as you latch your mouth onto his, and you can feel how he visibly tenses beneath you. His breath hitches in his throat when you grind your hips. “I really need it.”

From the very beginning of your relationship, you had made things crystal clear: you didn’t have much experience on this territory. For a man his age, he was totally understanding. He knew you had your own times, that for him to take you to bed would take longer. Truth be told, Logan was willing to go to the ends of the world for you. There was no use in forcing anything.

At present, the bulge amid his legs becomes even more noticeable as you get off his lap, playing with his belt. “Can I?” you ask him, amazed at how straightforward you’re being.

Logan stares at you, so far panting, lust glowing in his eyes. “Shit, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters as he helps you undress him. His worn out jeans end up pooling around his ankles, and you locate yourself in between his legs.

You’re on your knees, hands folded in front of you. Suddenly, it hits you, the shame of it all. How badly you want him, how desperate you are to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue. How many nights you’ve dreamt of this moment, unable to stop that unbearable need of touching yourself every time you thought about pleasuring him.

That’s what you truly want. For him to use you.

“What’s wrong, princess? We’ve talked about this a lot of times. You know what to do,” you can’t help but stare at his crotch as you listen to him, and then he raises your chin with his finger, your lips parting unconsciously. You blink slowly at him, eyelashes fluttering together. At last, he seems to understand what you’re trying to tell him, and he raises his eyebrows, that cocky grin of his taking place where it belongs. “You want me to guide you, don’t you? Want me to tell you what to do? Know you like it when I go a bit off the rails.”

You moan at his words, squeezing your eyes shut and nuzzling your cheek up against his palm. Slick gathers in your panties as you push your thighs together. “Please. Tell me what to do.”

“Take it out,” he instructs you, and you do as you’re told. Grabbing him by the base, you pull his cock out of his briefs. He twitches in your hand, and he’s so, so incredibly big.

You stroke him once, testing the feeling. This you know how to do. You’ve given him hand jobs millions of times, although this one feels particularly different from the others.

He takes hold of your fist, applying a bit of pressure. “I’m sorry, baby. I think you got it all wrong. I’m the one who makes the calls here, okay?” he grunts, his brows knitted, and you only nod, salivating at the sight of his cock already leaking precum at the tip. Logan licks his lips, curling his hand around yours. “You do as I say. Now, stroke me. Nice. And. Slow,” he punctuates each of his words by moving both your hand and his in unison around his length. “That’s it, darling. You just need someone to boss you around from time to time, ain’t I right?”

One thing to know about Logan: he’s so full of himself on a daily basis, but he just gets worse in bed.

“My mouth,” you hover your lips over the head of his cock, all shiny and soft. He has let you go, both of his arms now flexed behind his head, as if he were appreciating how pathetic you must look on your knees, begging for him to allow you to taste him. “Let me.”

“Not yet,” his hips follow your tormenting pace, seeking the warmth that your skin radiates. He grits his teeth, biting his lower lip. You’ve no idea how a man so strong can become putty in your hands like this. “Greedy girl. I’m beginning to think you’ve set me up. Only a slut would get so worked up about having a cock in her mouth. What happened to my innocent girl? Gone with the wind, huh?”

“Please, Lo. I need it so bad,” you are whining, peppering his thighs with kisses. You inhale his musky scent, getting dizzy. “Give it to me. I’ll be good.”

Out of nowhere, Logan grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to arch your back. He scrutinizes your face, studying your blissed out demeanor. “I don’t doubt that. I’m sure you’ll be good. Otherwise, we’ll keep on trying. We have all night, and you have a good memory, just need to put it to use,” as he taps your lower lip with his tip, you catch him smirking. He repeats that same motion until he has you shivering from the excitement of being stuffed. ”Show me how much you need it. Go easy on it at first, okay? Don’t want you choking beforehand.”

You’re more than happy to comply.

Your tongue darts out to lick at his head, enveloping it between your lips. The salty taste of his precum invades your tastebuds, and you moan as you trace the veins of his cock with the pad of your thumb. “Tastes so good, Lo,” your voice sounds distant, almost unrecognizable to your own ears.

“I know, bub. Such a nice fucking mouth, can’t believe you’ve never done this before. I guess you’re a natural,” shaky fingers place a strand of hair behind your ears, patting your head as if you were a dog in heat. “Do you feel like bobbing your head a little?” he asks you, and you prepare yourself, attaching your mouth to his head once again. “Good. That’s good.”

With that being said, Logan fists your hair once again and shoves your face down, his hard cock tickling your throat. Your whines and his rapid breaths are the only sounds to be heard in your bedroom. He grins as he takes in the sight of you. “Oh, sweetheart. You look so beautiful with your mouth stretched around me,” his index finger taps your cheek and he feels the outline of his own cock. “You know I can smell you, right? You’re fucking soaked, baby. Think you’ll leave a stain on the carpet? You’d clean it off with your tongue, wouldn’t you?”

You have no idea how he’s coming up with these things, but you’re far from annoyed. In fact, you’ve never been this wet. Your underwear must be ruined at this point, and you wish Logan would tell you to touch yourself.

After some minutes of bobbing your head up and down, he pulls you off his cock and you breathe through your mouth for the first time in a while. As you gasp for air, Logan kisses you, tasting himself. He massages the back of your neck, his cock throbbing between the two of you. “You tired?”

Your glossy eyes widen. Shaking your head, you go for his balls this time, sucking one of them while toying with the other. Logan buries his hands in your hair for what must be the hundredth time in the night, unable to stop himself. “F-fuck, that’s it. A pretty girl like you just gets what she needs,” he praises you, and you return to his length, taking as many inches as you can without hurting yourself. Tears shimmer in your eyes, yet you can’t bring yourself to care about that detail. You’re far too focused on Logan’s grunts and growls. “Keep that up and I’ll come. You heard me? You’re gonna make me fucking come, bub.”

His words ignite a fire inside you. You use your hands, your mouth, everything that you have to pleasure him. He’s getting closer and closer, thighs shaking when you pay special attention to his tip. Logan responds to each of your movements, and as you feel every coherent thought fly out the window, you try to take him all the way down your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. He cants his hips up, brutally fucking your mouth. Like a dog without a leash, Logan seems to get lost in the warmth that envelopes his cock, chasing his own release. “You’re such a good girl. My good girl. Nobody will fuck this mouth ever again. I’ll ruin you for any pathetic guy that tries to get in your pants. You’re fucking mine, darling. Oh, f-fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck-”

You’re met with his happy trail once he spills his hot load inside your mouth. He keeps you trapped there, his cock twitching and spamming through the aftershocks of his orgasm. You don’t think twice and swallow what he’s giving you. Some of his cum slips from your lips, falling directly onto the carpet. Even Logan seems surprised when he doesn’t stop coming.

He helps you stand up after a moment, kissing you as soon as he gets the chance. He licks into your mouth, squeezing the flesh of your hips. Logan lifts his eyebrows, relishing how cock-drunk you must look. “I think you nearly killed me. And that’s a lot to say coming from someone who cannot fucking die.”

You plaster a smile on your face, hugging his wide frame. “So, was I okay?”

His jaw goes slack, and he lowers his head to capture your lips in another kiss. “You were fantastic. I could easily get hard again just from thinking about it,” his fingers trace the buttons of your shirt, tugging at the fabric of it. “What if you let me focus on yourself for a while? You’ve already done enough, baby. Let me take care of you,” he rubs his hands on your thighs, reaching for your drenched panties. “Perhaps we could try something else today. That pussy’s begging to be fucked.”

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

5K notes · View notes

little-miss-dilf-lover · 3 months ago

Text

more 18+ LOGAN HOWLETT thoughts bc clearly im a big fat fucking liar

fem!reader, 583 words

Early morning sex is one of Logan’s favourites. There’s no rush, no haste – nothing. The rest of the world quiet, as if it's only the two of you up.

He’d often be cuddling into you from behind, arm like a dead, sleeping weight around your middle. His hand in a protective hold under one of your tits, keeping you there with your back to his burly chest. It’s rather comfortable.

And as his eyes begin to open, adjusting to the dawn sky through the gap of the curtain, he notices something between his legs causing him anguish. Thick, naked cock rock hard against the cheek of your ass, the little sleeping, unknowing motions of you only furthering that agony.

He nuzzles his face into you from behind, chin hooking on the nape of your neck as he presses soft, light kisses into your cheek – trying to ease you awake. And when you inhale, the sound prolonged and sleepy, he only tempts you further: running the scruff of his beard over your bare shoulder, lips pressing faintly into the side of your throat.

“Got something I want you to take care of, sugar,” he whispers, voice low and gruff beside your ear. His hand on your tit beginning it’s gentle kneading, again, like he was trying to coax you. Pushing it even further by saying your name in that deep, manly way he often does.

You nestle your head back into him, humming in a way as if to show your intrigue. Your half-asleep self silently asking him to elaborate. And when he takes the hint, his grasp around your breast loosens, instead moving down to your stomach – large fingers brushing over your warm, bare skin.

The trail continues, his touch moving down to between your thighs, the thickness of his wrist acting like a wedge betwixt your legs. His middle finger instinctively extends downwards, the tip of it running between the lips of your pussy, the action like a gentle, momentary warm up.

And so, he leaves that spot just below your clit, reaching his hand behind you —to the front of him— and to his cock. Fingers wrapping around his base, fist faintly pumping over his dick as if to ready himself – simultaneously guiding his head towards you from behind.

He teases you briefly with the tip as he lines up, swirling and circling himself around your entrance before sinking into you. The remnants of last night’s dirty affairs acting like a natural lubricant.

He stills, using his cock like a plug as if to allow you a moment to adjust – accommodate him once again. But it was like muscle memory, the walls of your pussy stretching and wrapping around him, drawing more of him in.

“Fuck,” he groans, the sound cutting his curse short. He wraps his arm back around your middle, hand finding itself tucked under your tit –like his prior sleeping position– using your body for stability as he begins to slowly rock into you.

Your eyes close as you melt into him, posture softening against his chest, grip loosening around his thick wrist. He inadvertently mirrors you, the tenseness in his shoulders dissipating as he rests his head back on the pillow – relaxing into you the way you do him.

Like it all required no effort. The unrushed, irregular wind of his hips into you from behind letting you both feel just enough, each of you still far too sleepy for it to be anything more than this.

I rewatched DOFP for him last night. massive mistake. cried myself to sleep

#thot #logan howlett #logan howlett smut #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett xmen #logan x reader #logan xmen #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #wolverine #deadpool and wolverine

3K notes · View notes

wlwloverwrites · 2 months ago

Text

Future Boyfriend

Pairing: 70s!Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: afab reader, reader is wearing a dress, sweat kink?, panty sniffing, squirting, brief handjob, cum play, nipple play, car sex (again) smut (18+) no minors

Summary: Logan, a man supposedly from the future, claims he is your boyfriend, so you ask him to prove it.

A/N: California’s heat wave in September is killing me. No one look at me. This fic just kept getting dirtier and dirtier.

Main Masterlist

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ON OTHER SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS

“So you’re from the future, huh?” You ask looking at the gruff man sitting in the driver’s seat.

“A little more complicated than that, Darlin, but you can say that,” the man reassures.

You hum sarcastically. Choosing to ignore the nickname he gives, which only makes him laugh under his breath. There’s a soft breeze that makes its way into the 1972 Buick Riviera and suddenly you’re hit with the smell of cigars. The smell, no doubt, coming from - “Wait, what’s your name again?”

It’s silent for a second, the only thing that fills your ears is the car’s roar when he hurrily pulls over under a shady tree on the side of the road.

“My name’s Logan,” he huffs playfully as he puts the car in park.

“Logan,” you feel yourself mimicking with a smile on your face.

He looks up at you with a sly smile, his sunglasses are now sitting on the dashboard, which gives you more of him to study.

Your eyes take in his sharp nose, soft eyes, and grown out facial hair before they drop to the three undone buttons on his collared shirt. The hair on his chest makes your fingers itch to undo the last few buttons and tug off his brown leather jacket. You’d be doing him a favor too.

The summer heat is criminal.

As if he read your mind, Logan tugs off his leather jacket, throwing it over his shoulder and to the back seat. You expect him to stop, but his thick fingers work to undo the rest of his buttons as he pulls off his shirt. His shirt falls on top of his leather jacket, leaving him in his low rise jeans held by a thick brown belt and white undershirt.

“So I’m just supposed to believe that you,” you point at Logan, then yourself. “And me end up together?”

“Is it that hard to believe?” He asks raising his eyebrows.

The man is sex on legs. If anything you should be applauding your future-self for fucking and tying the man down.

“Kind of, yeah,” you lie.

“Liar.”

Before you could reply Logan readjusts himself in the driver’s seat. The sight of him widening his legs and throwing his arm over your shoulder has your mind thinking maybe the man isn’t crazy. Words are stuck in your throat when his lips dips to meet the sticky skin on your collarbone.

“Had you wrapped around my finger,” his breath is hot against the junction of your neck as he whispers against your skin.

His flirtatious tone makes you squirm on the leather seats and you find it’s getting harder to ignore the building heat between your thighs. The leather from the bench styles seats sticks to your skin. Your brightly patterned dress does little to separate you from the leather, instead it clings to you body where sweat forms on your skin.

“Prove it.”

Maybe Logan isn’t talking out of his ass or trying to use some lame pick up line. He could be telling the truth.

It’s only fair you give him a chance.

Connecting your lips, the kiss is messy which has you opening your legs and welcoming the left hand that’s gripping your thigh. The arm over your shoulder pushes you closer to him and your hands find his face. Pulling away, you cup his cheeks in your hands as you angle his head to the left. This time when you lips meet, you’re stifling a moan. The hand between your thigh expertly finds your clit over your cotton panties. He pays no mind at the sweat between your thighs, instead he rubs small circles that has you rolling your hips against his hand, begging for more.

“Just like that,” you praise.

His hand doesn��t even flinch.

“I know Darlin.”

He knows what you like.

“Cause you’re from the future?” You can barely spit out your words and whine when Logan pulls your panties to the side. Your brain only comprehends the way his fingers glide through your folds. He nods as he gathers your slick and uses it to rub your clit again.

“I know your body. Had years of practice.”

His words have you whimpering and hiding your face in his neck. The hands that were holding his face fall and greedily grab at his biceps. The muscles are firm in your hands and call for your teeth. Everything about the man makes your mouth water. The carnivorous ache in your teeth makes you feel silly, but you settle for moaning his name instead.

His fingers rub your clit and occasionally tease at your entrance where you’re dripping; however, despite your whines, Logan doesn’t give in. Squirming against his hand, unsure if you’re running to or from him, Logan keeps you in place causing your panties to scratch at your skin. Focusing on his fingers, you try your best to ignore the uncomfortable friction scratching your right inner thigh. Your eyes fall shut and suddenly your nose is hyperaware of the man’s scent. The smell of cheap cigars tickles your nose, but it’s the smell of his sweat that makes your head spin.

His scent makes you widen your legs. The shift allows for more friction on your sensitive skin, but you still choose to ignore it. Distracting yourself with his scent, you bury your nose in his neck and inhale; the way you breathe him in is animalistic. The loud sniff makes Logan laugh, making his fingers pick up their pace. You shift once one, this time a painful whine escapes your lips.

“W-What’s wrong?”

It isn’t his scared question that brings you back to reality, but the halt to his fingers. Your mouth falls shut and you open your eyes to see a very concerned Logan staring down at you.

Worried eyes jump all over your face and body, looking for your pain making your heart skip a beat. His free hand caresses the side of your face and tilts it to face him. He’s so concerned that your blood starts to feel hot.

Did his stare have to be this instense?

Shaking your head you reassure, “It’s nothing.”

Your attempt to comfort him is cut off by his lips. Expecting his teeth to clash with yours, your heads spins once more. Instead his kiss is soft and has you melting into the leather seat beneath you. Wet tongues taste each other, his tongue is romantic while yours is curious.

To him, your taste is comforting. His kiss is making up for lost time. Soft lips are desperate to commit every inch of your mouth to memory.

To you, his taste is addicting. You crave his entire being, his smell, touch, words, and lips. He reels you in with claws.

“Tell me, Darlin,” he begs as his lips travel down to your neck.

Shyly, your hands slip beneath the skirt of your dress and hook your underwear on your fingers and pull them off. Awkwardly you lift your hips to pull off the scratchy, grey material, but Logan is quick to take over.

“I was chafing,” you whisper, clearly embarrassed.

His body visibly relaxes before he shakes his head at the material in a disapproving manner. Meanwhile, his hand between your thighs searches for the irritated skin. Your sharp inhale tells him he’s found it before he gently kneads at your skin, a silent apology.

Careful not to irritate your skin more, Logan goes back to tug off your panties hugging at your thighs. His voice is taunting as he coos, “Don’t worry, I’ll take them off your hands.”

You nod at his words and expect him to toss your panties in the back seat the same way he did his shirt and jacket, but your jaw drops when he brings the cotton up to his nose. The sound of him breathing in the grey cotton fills the car and suddenly your bottom lip stings from the force of your teeth. You watch as his eyes roll back and you swear you see pink reach out and taste the wet cotton.

Pride builds in the bottom of your stomach as your body moves before you can stop it. You climb on his lap, thighs trapping the both of his, similar to the way your arms trap his neck. The steering wheel digs into the small of your back, but the bulge on Logan’s jeans brushing against your pussy does a great job in distracting you. Playfully, Logan jerks his hips upward, bouncing you on his lap, but you watch as his carefully stuffs the grey cotton into his back pocket.

“My future boyfriend is such a pervert,” you giggle.

“You like it,” he smirks as his hand finds its way between your thighs.

A gasp escapes your lips when two fingers shove themselves inside you, no longer playing the teasing game. Your pussy clenches, struggling to accommodate the thickness of his fingers. Logan wastes no time and ignores your pleads for a an extra second. His fingers, wet with your arousal, curl and hit the spongy spot inside you that has you cursing his name against his neck.

Your hips ride his hand, eager for more despite your whines. His fingers curl expertly and have you hiding your face in his neck. Sweat builds at your hairline, your spine, and the back of your neck, but you don’t care. The growing pleasure between your thighs captures your full attention and you pathetically cry Logan’s name, but he shushes you with his lips.

He whispers soft praises against your lips, letting you know it’s okay. The steering wheel digs into your back and the leather seats stick to your shines, holding you in place. With no where to escape, a loud gasp of Logan’s name is his only warning before your pussy gushes on his fingers and onto his jeans. Your heart races as the pressure in your lower tummy releases. Squeezing Logan’s fingers so tight it has him cursing as he watches your eyes roll back. He groans as a new, sweet scent, one only he can smell, fills his nostrils.

“Smell like my favorite candy.”

Your ears barely register Logan’s praises on how sweet you smell or the way he tucks the skirt of your dress so he can see the wet mess between your thighs and his jeans. Slipping his fingers out of your pussy, it’s not long after wet fingers find their way to your parted lips and push past your teeth.

“Come on. Taste it.”

His fingers press on your lips, egging you to lick them clean. His dark eyes meet yours and watch as your tongue peeks out and drools over his glistening fingers. Your subtle sweet taste lingers on your tongue and the way he’s looking at you is making you want to swallow down his fingers. Rather than feeding you his fingers, he smears your remaining juices on your lips. Your slick coats your lips like a cheap lip gloss, tricking your mind to rub your lips together.

“My turn,” Logan groans before his lips kiss yours.

The kiss is filthy.

His tongue licks your lips clean, almost like a dog. It should gross you out, the way he’s licking you, as if he’s eating you from the source, but it doesn’t. He groans at your familiar taste as your blind, impatient hands reach to tug off the thick, brown belt trapping his cock.

“Taste so good,” Logan moans, his hands reaching down to help you when a frustrated whine falls past your lips.

The metal clinks and the sound of his zipper makes your ears perk up. Taking over, your fingers hook on his belt loops and tug off his jeans. Your eyes widen when they are immediately rewarded with the sight of dark, wiry hairs leading up to his thick and veiny cock instead of underwear.

“Fuck me,” the curse escapes you before you can even think. It’s quiet so Logan lets you think he didn’t catch it. His thighs flex, a silent beg for your touch and you’re quick to comply. Without wasting time, your hand wraps around his thick cock.

“You’re big,” you whisper. Not as a praise or compliment, but a fact.

Bigger than you expected.

“You can take it,” he nods like he’s talking from experience.

His cock is heavy in your hand and mind races with dirty thoughts. Before you can reply, his hand traps the hand wrapped around his cock. He squeezes your hand as he guides your hand up and down his cock. His thumb pushes yours to circle the tip of his cock. Despite him being the one that guided your hand, despite him expecting the pleasure, his hips shudder beneath you and your name falls past his lips. You watch, memorizing the way his eyes flutter shut.

This time you fist his cock without his help, slapping his hand away.

The head of his cock glisten with precome that makes your mouth water. Your face feels hot when your eyes watch Logan curse under his breath and leak onto your hand. Adjusting yourself on his lap, you decide to use both your hands. Your left hand grabs the base of his cock, while your right hand jerks the rest of his cock.

“You’re so leaky,” you giggle and then some more when his cock spits out onto your hand.

He scoffs at you, but moans your name when your thumb swipes over the tip of his cock. His come piles on your thumb and he groans when it presses against his lips. You smirk when you repeat his words, “Come on. Taste it.”

Shamelessly, Logan’s lips wrap around over your thumb. His tongue licks your thumb clean so when you pop your thumb out of his mouth, it glistens with his spit. His eyes lock with yours and the overwhelming feeling of needing to be full takes over.

Logan sees it in your eyes. There’s a cloudy and dazed look in your eyes when you grab the base of his cock and line him up to your entrance. His rough hands hold your hips as you sit on his cock, gasping at every inch. Logan’s stare where the both of you meet has you drooling on his cock. Despite your slick, he watches as you struggle to take his cock.

“Know you can do, Darlin, you used to do it all the time,” he praises.

Your hands reach out to his shoulders. You pout as you take another inch, “That’s future me though.”

Logan lets out a hearty laugh. His laugh makes your heart flutter. The flutter travels down to your pussy and suddenly the laugh is cut short when your walls squeeze around him. His nails dig into the meat of your hips as he tugs at your skin, encouraging you to ease the burn in your thighs and just sit on his lap.

Aching with need, you furrow your brows as you sink further on his cock. Crying out his name when he slides deeper into your cunt. The head of his cock brushing past the spongy spot inside you.

Drunken with pleasure, Logan’s fingers grip your hips and moans, “Knew I had to find you.”

The pressure in your lower stomach builds as your skin’s temperature begins to rise. Your walls squeeze around his cock, adjusting to the stretch. His cock wet with your slick makes it easier for you to take the last inch of his cock.

“I’m so full,” you whine, cloudy eyes stare up at Logan’s soft stare.

Taking a moment to adjust, your lips find his as your fingers bury themselves in his hair. Tugging at the dark roots and smiling against the beads of sweats that pile on the back of his neck.

The hands that were on your hips rise to the small of your back, pushing your body closer. Forcing you leaning onto his body, your clit rests on the wet, wiry hairs on his pelvis. The hairs tickling your clit every time he nudges your body closer.

His left hand cups the side of your face and groans into your mouth when you carefully lift your hips. Pulling away, a line of spit connect the both of you for a second before it falls onto your chin. With a shaky breath, you work your hips down and sit on his cock with a soft bounce.

“That’s it, Darlin,” he praises, his eyes falling to the plunging neckline of your dress.

His lips kiss down your neck, teeth tugging at the neckline of your dance. Your hands slip from his hair when he yanks your dress to expose your breasts. You gasp as his lips wrap around your nipple, while he rolls the other between his fingers.

“Fuck.”

Logan’s mouth is desperate as he mouths at your nipple, occasionally, groaning into your skin when you grind your hips against his. Holding his head to your chest you focus on bouncing yourself on his cock, setting an even pace while chasing your high.

Your slick drips down his length and he can feel it dripping down his balls. A creamy ring decorates the base of his cock that only gets creamier with each bounce.

“Missed you so much,” Logan groans out on your chest, his mouth pulling away, only to give the same treatment to your other nipple.

Your pussy spasms over his cock trying to commit every vein to memory. The ache in your hips and the pain building from the steering wheel digging into your back is ignored as you mumble Logan’s name like a mantra.

“I’m close.” You cry out, as a weak warning.

You smile when you feel him nod against your chest, his silent way of letting you know that he knows. The roll of your hips get messy and the way your leaking on his cock gives him more than enough to figure you’re close to coming on his cock. You just need that extra push and he’s more than willing to give you that.

“Come on, Darlin,” he hums, slipping a hand between the both of you. The toothy smile he gives you when his fingers find your puffy clit has you whining his name. His eyes drop to your chest again, watching as your tits bounce with every attempt of chasing your orgasm. His fingers are soaked with your sweet slick as he rubs even circles on your clit. Your jaw drops as your body tenses.

“That’s it, darlin. Let go.”

Your walls squeeze his cock as he fights the urge to come inside you. He smiles at your bunched up dress that does little to cover you. Your entire body glistens with sweat and the sweet smell of your pussy fills Logan’s nose. He’s memorized as he watches your head fall back, exposing your neck and feels your walls clench uncontrollably around his cock.

“Ah! Lo-”

Gasping for air, you try to warn him, you really do, but it’s too late. Trying to run away from his fingers and cock, your lift your hips, unintentionally causing his cock to hit that spongy spot inside you before it slaps against his stomach. The lingering feeling of his cock spreading you open has you squirting on his cock with a cry.

“Logan!”

Overstimulated, Logan’s fingers pet your clit softly, smiling when your tired body jerks on his lap. His abs underneath his tank top flex when he sees a wet mess between your thighs, no doubt adding to the puddle on the leather seats. Chasing his orgasm, Logan’s hand reaches down to fist his soaked cock.

“F-fuck,” he stutters as the lewd sounds of Logan fisting his cock fill your ears. His hips flex as moans slip out of his mouth.

Slowly, you become more aware of your surroundings and help Logan finish. Eager to both see and hear how Logan comes, your hand replaces his. Shaky fingers wrap around his cock as your work a tight grip up and down his cock.

“Gonna come for me?”

Your sweet tone makes him throw his head back. A smile creeping on his face when you give him a playful and loud kiss on his cheek.

“Come on, I’m your future girlfriend,” you tease as your flick your wrist and swipe your thumb over the tip of his leaky cock. “You know you want to.”

The giggly banter, the banter he missed so much, has him choking out your name and spilling onto your hand. Spurts of his come land on your dress, on his shirt, and onto your hand. You watch as Logan’s chest rises and falls with every deep breath. His flushed skin glistens with sweat, similar to yours.

The silence is comfortable for a couple minutes as the both of your fix on your clothes onto your sticky skin. Huffing out loud as the heat suddenly begins to hit you, you shift on Logan’s lap. Looking up at him only to find his eyes already looking at you. Suddenly shy, you lower your gaze and look out the car window.

“You’re the first person I looked for.”

His confession is quiet and has you pulling your attention from the swaying trees to the soft eyes staring at you.

“Why?” You ask just as soft. “Why didn’t you wait to meet me how you’re suppose to?”

A part of you wants to bring up the way his fingertips dug into your skin, holding you down as if he was scared you were going to disappear. Maybe bring up the way his kiss press onto your skin just a tad too harsh, desperate with love. You most definitely want to bring up the salty tears that slipped down his cheeks when his cried out your name as he came.

“Just wanted more time with you,” he admits, avoiding eye contact for the first time since he first convinced you to get in his car.

“What do you mean?” You ask with a nervous laugh.

In attempt to comfort you, or maybe it’s for his own comfort, Logan’s rough hands find yours, intertwining your fingers together. His throat feels like its closing, but he still manages to spit out his selfish words.

“I needed more time with you.”

No pressure tags: @eupheme @mrsimpurity @joelsgoldrush @djarins-riduur @superhoeva @d1stalker @moonlight-prose @ozarkthedog @sunsburns @inkedells i love yall !!! Each and every single one of you are so talented and have individually inspired me to write for Logan! So thank you :)

Liked this fic? Leave a comment! Send a compliment in my inbox or reblog!!!!

Read my other Logan fic here

#char: logan howlett #type: smut #xmen days of future past #xmen smut #xmen dofp #logan howlett #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x you smut #dofp logan howlett #dofp logan #logan howlett x reader smut #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine #wolverine x reader smut #wolverine x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut

2K notes · View notes

thinkinonsense · 1 month ago

Text

WICKED

old man!logan howlett x young fem!reader

cw: cheating, heavy flirting, smut, kinda dark

authors note: i have no idea what came over me and i cannot explain it. also! gif credit to the amazing n talented @silverskyeline <333

he never should've gone to the bar. never should've let you run your pretty mouth. most definitely never should've bought you that martini. every weekend he watches you seduce the men at the bar until one of them falls into your trap.

logan would scoff, mumbling something under his breath about how stupid that bastard must be. despite the fact that the only thing holding him back from your advances was the thick gold band on his finger, reminding him of where his loyalty should be.

"lovely seeing you here again, logan."

he loathed your wicked smile and how your voice sounded like rain fall. trying his best to avoid staring into the eye of the storm but your presence demanded to be seen. practically ripping his hazel gaze off the wooden table and over to that tiny dress you were wearing. dark navy tight against your skin in a way that could make any man sin.

"missed ya' last weekend." you purr. "where were you at?"

"home." he states, gruffly.

"that's boring. why were you at home?"

"wedding anniversary."

the words made your tummy flip with excitement. you didn’t know much about logan outside of his favorite brands of alcohol, but you did know that he had a wife at home. he never mentioned her by name. sometimes, she would call the bar if it was “too late” for him to be out but other than that, she was a ghost.

“cute. you should bring her here one weekend.” you propose, almost making logan choke on his whisky. “bet she would love to see where you run and hide at night.”

“it’s not her kinda scene.” he responds.

“aw, i’m sure we would be friends.”

“doubtful.”

“and why’s that?” you fake pout.

logan leans in close before whispering, “don’t think she would appreciate you beggin’ for her husband to fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom every weekend.”

“i didn’t say we would stay friends.” you giggle, making his cock stir in his work pants. “also, the invite is still open if you miss fuckin’ someone younger.”

the second you are out of sight, off in the pool room next door annoying some other asshole, he groans under his breath. logan hated how well you read him. you knew he wanted you but you were smart enough to make him come crawling to you if he wanted to feel your tight cunt wrapped around him.

after a couple minutes, a few men left the room and logan got up to take their place. when he walked inside he saw it was empty except for you sitting in one of the chairs on your phone.

“glad you decided to join me.” you smile up at him.

logan ignores you instead going over to get a stick and start playing. you finish your martini and join him as he sets up the balls. catching you off guard, he tosses you a stick too.

“if i win, you leave me alone for good.” he huffs in your face.

“sure but what do i get when i win?” you smirk.

logan ignores your question and growls, “ladies first.”

it's dead silent as you bend over the pool table to line your stick up to the diamond. logan's far too busy staring at the wet spot on your light blue panties. he never admit it, even if you knew for sure that's where his eyes were. it wasn't until he lost sight of the spot that he realized you already took your shot.

"your turn, old man." you tease, moving out of his way.

the two of you go back and forth for a bit but you were growing tired of this game. instead you decided to make things even more interesting.

"so when i win, are you going to finally fuck me?" your bluntness always left logan speechless.

"you already know the answer to that, sweetheart." he replies, trying to focus before shooting.

"sure, blah, blah, blah, something wife." you mock with an eye roll that almost made logan chuckle. "but seriously? when was the last time you two had sex? you probably got cobwebs in there."

that got a small smirk out of him. one that you count as a win.

"it's just a band. it comes off, see?" you lean over and take the ring off of his finger, placing it on the table.

logan stared at it for too long. feeling the distance of his commitments. you turn his head towards you with a light hook on his grey bearded chin. the lust in his eyes told you that you had won.

"you know what else comes off that easily?" you whisper, lips inches from his. "my panties."

a good man would've walked away. a good man would've returned home to his wife. but logan wasn't a good man. never had been and never would be.

an animalistic urge fell over him, grabbing you with the ease of a rag doll and bending you over the pool table. the wedding band was inches from your parted lips, moaning prettily as logan spread you open with his thumbs and licked a wide strip up your cunt, burying his face in your arousal and letting it coat his beard until he could only taste you.

"f-fuck me." logan groans, pulling back to catch his breath. "taste better than i imagined."

"knew you wanted me." you smirk, feeling his middle finger circle your entrance before pushing in. a loud moan is pulled from your throat as he hits that spongey spot with ease.

"weren't lying 'bout being tight." logan marvels, watching the way you suck in his finger.

he attempts to push in his ring finger as well and you wish you could've seen his face while he struggle to get it in. quickly, you reach for the wedding ring next to you then grab his hand from inside you. fumbling to get the ring back on him before he questions you.

"what are you—"

"go on." you coax, looking back at him with dark eyes. "try it now."

logan shouldn't have been so turned on from the image of his wedding ring coated in your slick; but here he was watching it disappear and reappear inside of you.

"right—fuck! r-right there..." you pant, arching farther back to meet his thrusts.

"does it turn you on being a homewreaker?" logan asks, back up on his feet and nibbling at your ear. "knowing that you have a old married man fucking you with his wedding band on?"

"mhm..." you mumble against the table. he takes the opportunity to pick up his pace, feeling you clench down. "d-don't stop..."

within seconds, your gushing around his fingers and dripping down his hand. right when he pulled out of you, you turn around and push him back into one of the plush chairs to undo his belt. falling to your knees, you begin to stroke him, tracing his veins with your tongue and tapping the tip on it.

"always knew you had quite the mouth on ya', princess." he grunts with a fist full of your hair.

you smile, taking him all the way until his tip hit the back of your throat and the hairs at his base tickled your nose. logan was finding it harder and harder to control his animalistic urge while your gagging and drooling all over his lap. quickly, you release him with a pop and stand up to straddle him, lining him up to your entrance and sinking down slowly.

"shit, you're so fucking tight." he says, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

"only for you, logan." you whine, grinding down on him, rocking back and forth.

roughly, logan pulls the rest of your dress off of you, throwing it on the floor somewhere behind you. large hands touching you all over in ways you've only dreamt of. meanwhile, your attacking his neck like a madwoman. biting and marking him up like he's yours.

desperately, logan fucks up into you, needing more. his tip nudges that sweet spot within you, making you moan loudly in his ear, encouraging him to go faster. so focused on the squealing of your soaked pussy. he captures your lips, kissing you tenderly. you can feel his high approaching, twitching inside of you, and you needed to do one last thing before it hit him.

carefully you pull away, gripping his chin and pulling him face to face with you. his eyes are blown out with desire as he stares at you.

"tell me your mine, lo." you whisper against his lips.

logan can feel you clench tightly around him, waiting for him to give into you completely. he presses his thumb down on your button, moving in fast circles to get you there with him.

"f-fuck, i'm yours, baby." he moans, coating your walls with spurts of his release. "i'm yours."

"t-that's right." you moan, kissing him roughly as your high washes over you.

"you look so pretty like this." he coos, watching the pleasure run over you.

for a moment the two of you sit still, trying to catch your breath. logan's mind races, not meaning to cum inside of you but it's far too late now.

"lets keep this a secret between the two of us, huh?" he says while you play with his hand, mischievously. before he can notice, you pocket the ring.

"sure thing, baby." you reply. "i'll gladly be your little secret but have fun explaining those marks to the old ball and chain."

logan looks down at you and that wicked smile of yours, only to realize just how fucked he is.

1K notes · View notes

fictionalmenmistress · 3 months ago

Text

I haven't seen anyone else talk about it, so I wanted to share that Logan's rant monologue insulting Wade in the Honda Odyssey, before Wade decides to beat him up and they ~fight~ all night... that so clearly to me, was Logan projecting. It started as a tempered rant to cope with how annoyed and pent up he was, with the heat of everything and with Wade's muchness that makes him, him, but the longer he went on, the more he started ranting and exposing himself in the process.

"THE XMEN REJECTED YOU, AND THEY'LL TAKE FUCKING ANYONE!!!" That was my first hit, that he was referring to himself. He sees himself so lowly, so failed, that's canonical to the film. And canonically, he didn't even quite originally feel worthy or want to be with the XMEN. Didn't feel like there was a place for him there, a place for him anywhere. One of his biggest healings was Professor X not giving up on helping him believe that he deserved to be there, was wanted, was worthy, was a good guy. That's canon to his character. So we know he was speaking about himself. He was chewing Wade out, but he was also talking and focusing moreso on what upset him about himself. (He sees himself as just any jo shmo, when he IS literally THE X MAN ��ㅠ)

He was seeing himself in Wade, how he "can't even save a relationship with a gd stripper", (he sees himself as not able to save anything either, and he's angry for that more than anything else he's angry or annoyed at) projecting SO HARD as he pieced together saying it out loud, that Wade was exactly like him. Logan hated himself for not saving anything. For being a "loser", a "failure", for all of the same reasons he was lashing out at Wade for. He was so angry and annoyed by Wade reminding him of himself, because he related to him. Wade was his reflection, in his eyes, calling him out so loudly with his own behaviors. And he hated himself. He deeply was suffering with that hatred for himself, and as a result, he lashed out on Wade when really he was chewing out himself, inside, admitting it.

"God's CRUELEST JOKE, IS THAT YOU *WONT* DIE ALONE. BECAUSE YOU! CANT! DIE! SO THE REST OF US HAVE TO SUFFER YOU THE REST OF OUR EXISTENCE!" (something along that.)

He didn't know for sure that Wade can't die. He picked up on that Wade can't be killed. Logan is the one who can't die. They are two flipped sides of the same immortal power coin. When he finished his screaming at him, and everyone was silent at how cruel and shocking the confrontation and his words were, I was sinking with a very empathetically whispered "oh, Logan..." Because I felt his misery. I immediately picked up on him really talking about himself, and I think that was genius and layered. I was upset for how awful that was to say to Wade, heartbroken for Wade taking that to heart, and I was heartbroken that Logan was saying that because he believes that about himself. Because they are, oddly, a lot alike. Very compatible.

This scene here:

I read that Hugh said that Ryan wrote that. He's brilliant with these films. It was so genius. I really needed to share this and bring this thought, meta, analysis to light. For all of us to have.

Is Logan mad at God's "cruel joke" of his immortality, yet ability to feel so much pain through it still? Yes. He punched the roof in rage, because it's not fair. Venting his own pain. He sees his powers, his own and Wade's too, empathetically, as their curse. The curse of being the one who lives, and the guilt with that. The one who can't die. The one who lives, who is forced to live, while everyone who "deserves to live" dies. And WILL die, around them.

"And You can't die. That's on all of US!" Logan says, clearly referring to himself living forever... And "us" being the people HE loved. He saw himself as a burden for existing with them, for them. He deflected that onto Wade, as if the people in Wade's life must feel that way too, but didn't really mean that. He meant it about himself. Logan believes he was a burden on the people he loves, the people he lost. That's probably why he left too, and didn't come back when they called out for him to. He distanced himself to protect them, and protect himself from that fear of rejection that he feels is so imminent, and them not having him, is the one element that led to none of them surviving without him. He was always the key. He was always wanted, and he was always important and needed. He just couldn't ever believe that.

Man, that's why it became so personal for Logan too, when he was shown Wade's photograph of his family. Because HE had a family, and he would do anything now to save them. Just like Wade. He held that photograph all night, he went and got it when it fell out of the car, he kept looking at it. It became personal for him, when he identified with it. That Honda scene really was their turning point of everything. That's when Logan cared with everything. He got it. Wade is the him he couldn't be. But now he can.

I dropped some heat with this one.

Extra little personal context/thought notes: Maybe I just spotted it because I have a natural knack for psychology, I'm hyperobservant, highly empathetic and deeply feeling, and I'm also years experienced of my parents and whole family treating me the same exact toxic lashout way almost every other day. That's a workweek for me to see through toxic lashout anger BS. These are not my gifs!!! They were created by another amazing account. I will refind their @ and tag them!! >>> It's @landoslastnerve ! Thank you friend! 🤍

Also wanted to include someone's tags from those gifs:

2K notes · View notes

darnell-la · 2 months ago

Note

can i request reader babytrapping logan? him begging her not to make him cum inside sounds filthy but amazing

note: Logan and his overthinking, but he loves the reader so much that he’ll just have to be more obsessive and protective over her.

———

“Slow down, Bub — Can’t have Wade hearing us,” Logan placed his hands on both of y/n’s ass cheeks, trying to slow her down and make her move at his own paste.

“So close,” y/n moaned low as she leaned down in between the crook of his neck. The man could barely keep his grunts in, legs shaking as his cock pulsed. He was close and had to tell her to get off soon. Even if she came cum first.

“Fuck, Bub — Hurry up — I’m close too,” Logan told the girl, only making her grip the sheets and bounce more uncontrollably. She needed all of him, and he never gave it to her. She’ll get it tonight.

“Hey, slow down,” Logan tried stopping her, but she wouldn’t. She kept bouncing, cunt soaking his cock the faster she went. “So close,” y/n whined, feeling her clit go numb.

“Bub, get off — C-Can’t take it anymore,” Logan’s hips bucked as his breathing quickened. “Please, don’t push me off — Wanna feel you cum,” y/n begged the man as she put all of her weight onto him.

“Fuck, y/n — Don’t be like this — Not right now,” the man could barely hold himself back. Her legs were too sweet, and his kind tried taking him over. Maybe breeding her doesn’t sound too bad.

“Please, please — Need it,” y/n’s voice spoke in his ear, echoing through his body like an angel. “Fuck, y/n, we can’t. We- Fuck!” Logan couldn’t speak as his feet curled.

“That’s it, daddy — Please fill me up — Please,” Logan’s cock twitched as her cunt slid up and down his shaft. He was far too gone when he tried pulling her off. He became weak, allowing y/n to grab his wrists and pin them next to his head.

“Yes, yes!” She cried out, clenching around his cock as she came. Logan’s mouth went slack as his breath n became spotty. Y/n rose back and forth until she felt his warm seed shoot into her cunt.

“Oh, yes,” y/n cried in pleasure, loving the feeling of his seed filling her up and his body's reaction to doing so. “So good, daddy,” y/n whispered as she softly sucked on the side of the man’s neck.

After riding her orgasm out for a couple of more minutes, y/n got off and flopped to the side of the man. He was out of breath and still contemplating life. He came to her, and she knows he has love issues.

Everyone he loves ends up hurt, which is why he always tries to argue with Wade. “Baby, it’s okay,” y/n placed her hand on the man’s chest. “I’ll be okay. I’m safe with you. This is a new life,” y/n tried comforting the man.

Logan slowly turned his head towards the woman, eyes full of tears even though he had just had the best orgasm of his life.

“But, I love you. I love you so fuckin’ much,” Logan slightly cried out, making her pout, feeling a bit bad for doing this, but he has to get over this sooner or later, sight? They’ve been dating for months, and y/n’s finally ready to settle down. Logan’s perfect.

“I love you too, Logan, but you can’t push me away. That will be the only thing hurting me,” y/n rubbed his cheek to remove one single tear. The two silently looked into each other's eyes, falling in love all over again.

“Felt so good — C-Couldn’t pull out,” Logan admitted with a slight smile. “I know, baby. I want more tomorrow after we rest,” Y/n said before kissing the top of the man’s head.

“Need it now,” Logan’s words surprised her. She was even more shocked when the man moved on top of her, coming up and between her legs. “Gonna keep you forever. I’ll never let you go. Never,”

1K notes · View notes

rqnarok · 2 months ago

Text

GLORY BOX | old man!logan x fem!reader

summary: calling old man!logan daddy for the first time ever…

content warnings/tags: smut! mdni. literally porn with no plot or whatsoever. old man!logan. unspecified age gap. stressed reader. established relationship (surprising). soft daddy dom!logan. sub!reader. daddy kink. dd/lg undertones. subspaces. pet names (princess, little girl, etc). unprotected p in v. slight breeding kink. barely proofread. wc: 1,3k

All the work you’ve been having these past weeks is knocking you out, mentally and physically. The sight of never-ending paperwork before you makes you want to throw your dinner up to the desk. Although you know it’s not healthy to push yourself like this—you just couldn’t help it. Your anxieties are always eating you and forcing you to do this and that subconsciously.

Luckily, Logan always notices when you’re tiring yourself to death. His love comes in many forms, one being taking care of you. He always takes care of you at the price of nothing.

Well, maybe one or two things.

Your obedience, is in fact, required. Your loyalty to him and only him is expected. Your submission is essential.

Both of you find a simple way of living by holding onto those systems. You love to be taken care of and Logan loves to take care of you. It is the foundation of your and Logan’s relationship. It is enough.

His presence is greatly felt as he watches you overworking yourself to a dreadful agitation, “Come on, sweets. Rest up for a bit.”

“Can’t, Lo. ‘M still doing this.” Your head lulls lazily as the burden on your shoulders becomes overwhelming. Deadlines loom all over your mind, all over your brain like grey clouds before a storm.

He just can’t take it anymore. The sight of his pretty baby all slouched down and defeated in the dim living room. “I’ll do all the work for ya’. C’mere, princess.”

And before you know it, or even before you register it—your head goes radio silent for a minute. All because of Logan.

“Little one.” Your paperworks on the desk are long abandoned as Logan tenderly whispers to your neck, to the skin he had plastered with many love bites and little hickeys.

“Mhm—”

His cock is stuffed deep inside of your soaking pussy, stretching you up with his thick girth, and locking your figure to his with his strong biceps like glue.

This position, you on top of him, usually makes you tired and your thighs sore—but it’s different now because he’d taken a willingness to do all the work. I’ll do all the work for ya’. The sight of his girl—his gorgeous girl opening herself to him; letting yourself rest up a bit after all the sobs you had swallowed this entire week—electrify something inside him.

You love to be taken care of by Logan.

“My pretty pillow princess, hm?” He mutters sweetly to your right ear, gently brushing your hair along the way. Your figure slumped into him, leaning your entire body weight onto him. You managed to nod lightly, lazily, and slowly, but still with desperation.

“Yeah. My little girl. All mine.” His fingers reach your chin and nod your head with him. Slowly lifting his hips up and down, he makes his cock hits that spot deep inside you. When he talks to you like this—you just can’t help it. The more he babies you, the more you fall into subspace.

Before you can’t stop yourself, you croak out a small breathy voice, “Daddy.” You sounded so feeble - you barely even recognized your own voice.

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.

All this time, you call him lots of names, alright. Jokingly or in a serious manner: Grandpa, Lo, Logan, Old Man, Old Guy—but never that.

You feel Logan tense and how his cock twitches inside your walls. Then he slightly pulls you up and down on him, way deeper this time.

His rugged palms dug into your hips, rubbing circles there, “What was that, sweetheart?” The older man’s voice tremble slightly because fuck he didn’t think he could get harder. He knows he’s a bad bad bad man for enjoying shit like this. Young, delicate thing like you drooling over his cock.

You whimper into his shoulders and shy yourself away from his intense gaze—the one that made you clench your pussy around his girth. “What’d ya’ just call me, princess?” He repeats as his fingers squish your cheeks to look at him in the eyes. Bullseye.

There he went again. Making you fall deeper into your subspace you can’t even think. “Repeat whatcha’ say to your old man, baby.” Pushing just the right buttons.

“Daddy…” you managed to get away from his gripping fingers and nuzzle your face deeper into his neck—your voice comes out needier than you expected.

Logan groans and you could feel his cock twitches again, “You wan’ more of Daddy’s cock? Hm?”

He managed to slip his thumb into your spit-slicked mouth and make you suck at the tip. “Mmhm. Please, Daddy—”

“Wan’ Daddy t’a stuff you up, little one?” He grunts, loving all this, you could tell. His thumb slips out of your lips and makes its way down down down and then his hand drifts to play with your breasts, squeezing and pinching your peaking nipples.

“Ah! Y-yes, Daddy.” You’re full-on sobbing now. You’d do anything. Only one word repeats in your dumbfounded mind now.

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.

“‘Aight. Hold on t’me.” Logan lets out a dry chuckle and trails his hands from your breasts to the plush of your ass. “Daddy’ll fill you up.” He lifts you up and lets the tip of his cock slip from your clenching wet hole, barely even the tip. He scolds you softly when you start moving around in desperation, “Stay still for Daddy. Lemme’ do my job.”

You cry out loudly when he thrusts himself back in, deep and hard. “Daddy!” Your nails dig into his shoulders and he sets a rapid pace.

The sound of slapping flesh against flesh obscenely roams around the room as Logan pistons his hips up off the cushion, eagerly meeting your bouncing body above him. “T-there ya’ go, kiddo. Always grippin’ Daddy so fuckin’ tight.”

Logan takes his right hand and press it down on your tummy, feeling his cock bulging through, "Ya' feel me here, kiddo?" And God, how could you not melt at that?

He pounds his large cock into your slicked pussy, chasing his high and yours. “Go ‘head play with your pouty clit.” Says Logan as he keeps bullying his way inside your heat. But your hands stay locked around his shoulders. You’re just too tired and he said he’d do all the work, right?

Logan knows you’re close when he feels your toes curl on his thigh and your arms tightening around his neck—suffocating him with your presence and your cunt.

“Daddy,” you call out to him again, making grabby hands on his salt-and-pepper beard. A continuous line of DaddyDaddyDaddyDaddys in a loop and you’re so full of him, you feel him everywhere.

“Cream my fat cock, baby. Daddy’ll fill you up real nice.” You try to tell him yes but it comes out of you broken and high-pitched.

“Daddy-” you can feel his big fingers circling your swollen button—doing all the work for you. It’s not even a second later until you babble that you’re coming, repeating it over and over in his ear. “‘M coming, Daddy—‘M-”

Logan mutters a curse word as he feels your velvet walls squeezing his cock so tight and milking him dry. “Shit. Such a good little girl.” He coos at the sight before him, your shaking figure, coming down from your high, and rolling your eyes to the back of your head in pleasure.

He can’t help himself anymore—his pace becomes relentless, and he indulges his body forward closer to you, burying his face on your neck. “Fuck, princess.” You whimper at the burning feel of his untrimmed scruffy beard.

“Come.”

Oh, you want to order him around now?

“Come, Daddy. Need your cum so bad, pleasepleasepleas—”

Nevermind.

In your neck, he lets a roaring grunt as his cock twitches and swells inside of your dripping pussy. “Jesus Christ.” He huffs every time he spurts his release, his thrust going weaker and slower. Yet the pleasure that you deride him for is inescapable. No amount of power could take him away from you. He makes sure of that.

His breath finally comes back to him, and so does your senses, little by little. You whimper as you feel his cum gushing out of your hole, “Daddy-”.

But he keeps his position still, his legs grounded to the floor—he just kisses your temple, then your cheeks, then your lips. “Shh. Daddy’s here. Daddy’ll take care of you.” He coos at your hair, kissing the crown of your head.

He decided that he’d have you like this for the night. Seated atop of his muscular thighs—full of his seed and spent.

Daddy always takes care of you.

1K notes · View notes

kaitawrites · 3 months ago

Text

Silent Whispers (2)

Pairing: "Wolverine" Logan Howlett x Mutant!Reader

word count: 1.1k Warnings: smut, creampie, angst, Notes: This is 18+ as there are sexual themes within the story. This is a continuation of this post Silent Whispers. I hope you enjoy it all!

Taglist: @amelia262006 @clairealeehelsing @arrowenchantress @marcybug @cosmicmagicgirl @killerwendigo

“Logan, you can't just mope and drink all day,” Ororo exclaims. Watching Logan continue to sip on his cup of whiskey, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes screwed shut. He continues to ignore Ororo as he tries to reason with him. “You know she wouldn’t want this.” Logan harshly slams the glass onto the table, his eyes opening to glare daggers at Ororo. “Shut the fuck up” He mutters.

It’s been 5 months and Logan didn’t get a lick of sleep. Up looking for you and trying to find you. He already ran to Charles to ask on your whereabouts. When he told him that you were no where to be found. He just couldn’t understand how you disappeared the way you did. He puts his face into his hands. “I don’t know what else to do. I am nothing without her.” Ororo shakes her head at him. “We will keep looking for her. We will let you know if anything comes up.” With that Ororo leaves Logan in the kitchen alone.

All Logan can think about is you. He closes his eyes and thats where he could hear your voice. “How would you feel about settling down, lo?” Logan was at first shocked with the question. He rubs his hands on your left shoulder, caressing and massaging. “I mean I haven’t thought about that really.” You move your whole body to face Logan. Your beautiful eyes behind your long lashes. “You never thought of us settling down? Marriage? A baby?” Logan’s eyes run along your facial features. “We’re mutants. How would we be able to settle down? You seen what happened to Magneto and his family.” He watches your delicate features scrunch up a bit into a grimace. “Yea, you’re right. I think I’m going to get some rest. Good night.” You turn away from him, facing the opposite direction from him in the bed.

That’s all he’s been thinking about. Living the good long life with you. But he was afraid. Afraid of losing you like he lost the others. Afraid someone will take you from him. Unknowingly pushing you away due to his insecurity. Now look at him. Lost you just as he feared. He clenches his fists in frustration. He couldn’t believe he just let you go like that. Pushing you so far away that you literally run right out his life. Jumping out the window and all.

He can still remember your touch. The way you would give him both pleasure and comfort. The strong warmth that comes off your body that wrapped around his entire being. The way your kisses lead down his neck and to his chest. He held your chin so he could connect a kiss. You left him breathless, his eyes showing how mesmerized he was by you. “You ready?” A smirk was on your lips as you look down at his exposed chest and give him a little glance.

He gives a slight nod. You trail down his body with your fingers. With elegance and swiftness, his pants are thrown on the ground. Your hands delicately holds him, trailing kisses up and down his cock. You hear the hitch in Logan’s breath and his hands grip onto the sheets once you finally enter it into your mouth. Your rhythm was slow and sensual knowing this is the exact opposite of what Logan wants. The evidence is in the way his hips buck up into your mouth. He doesn’t make a move on your hair or head because last time that happened, he gave you a new hair cut.

“Fuck, I can’t take it anymore.” He grabs you up before you could say anything. Flipping everything around and having you pinned down below him. “You have no idea the effects you got on me, princess .” A big grin was on your lips at his words. “Then show me.” Your lips lock with another. The kiss was filled with hunger, desperation, and love. He rips everything you have on in half. “Try to get away from this.” A sharp gasp escapes your lips as Logan doesn’t give you any warning.

His pace was slow and deliberate. The same pace you was going at before. You let a whine out as you try to wiggle into the thrusts. “Go faster.” A cocky grin appears on Logan’s lips. “What did you say princess?” You arch your back away from the bed. “Please go faster.” Logan doesn’t waste not even a second before quickening his pace. Your moans bounce off the wall as you grip onto the sheets. Logan’s eyes never leave your body. Looking over all your features as if he wants to have this memory ingrained in his brain. His watching your breast bounce against your chest, the way your lips were slightly agape as moans left your lips. “I’m so close,” You whisper, your hands moving to grip onto Logan’s arms. Your nails digging into his flesh, the slight stinging adding onto the pleasure. You finish with a wail. It didn’t take long for Logan as you squeezed him so tight. His breath hitches as his climax was close. “I’m gonna fill you up,” A desperate whine escapes your lips.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? Huh, I can’t hear you.” You nod your head with a quickness. Nails digging deeper into his skin, a hiss escaping his lips. A low growl leaves his lips as he empties himself in you, thick ropes of cum leaking out of you. He collapsed next to you. ‘I’m glad you both are enjoying yourselves on your day off. But it would be nice if you both kept it down.’ Charles voice is heard in the both of your heads. You guys both staring at each other in horror at the sound before erupting into laughter.

Two years had went by and there is still no sign of you. At this point, Logan had become more bitter and harsh. The wrinkles on his face began to deepen on his face. His eyes were colder and darker than before. He would drink himself half to death if he could. He sat at the local bar, lips on another glass of whiskey. Everything just phased passed him, nothing would last. Nothing ever lasts but him.

Ororo enters the bar with urgency, her legs walking quickly to Logan. She knew where he would be since she was the only one who had personally checked on Logan past few months. Logan always went to the same spot as always. He never left the seat. “We found her, Logan.” At first, the words didn’t register. He continued to drink the rest of the bitter liquid. Ororo places a hand on his shoulder. She whispers your name. “We found her.” It finally clicked and with a quickness, he was standing up out of his chair. “Where.” Is the only thing that comes out of his mouth.

Marvel Masterlist

#logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine #headcanons with kaita #logan howlett x reader #xmen #xmen wolverine #x men wolverine #x men wolverine x reader #deadpool and wolverine #logan x reader #silent whispers logan

411 notes · View notes

joelsflower · 2 months ago

Text

love language | origins!logan x f!reader

logan told you one million times he didn’t want anything for his birthday… anything besides you, lingerie and the moonlight.

a/n: hiiii <33 lis disappeared but is back again and apparently still obsessed with the concept of hot old men unwrapping you like a present. the hugh jackman fever hit me VERY hard and im down bad cough cough enjoy! also to enhance the experience when i say “he looked up at you” pls picture him exactly like in this picture ☝🏼and expect to feel something growing in ur belly in the next 9 months

wc: 4k

warnings: 18+ mdni. pure smut and fluff!! lingerie, logan is obsessed w reader, older!logan (i picture him in origins cause wtf is this man and reader in her early/middle 20s but up to you! legal ofc!!) fingering and eating out but brief cause reader is hot to go!, blowjob, facefucking & deepthroat (not rough), unprotected piv (wrap it up!), creampie, AFTERCARE!!! like SO MUCH logan is soooo soft!dom in this the whole time is like toothache sweet cause it’s a lis fic and yes. they are IN LOVE yall. oh and also reader is a kindergarten teacher (oops

🎀🎀🎀

“Stay”

You grabbed his wrist the moment he recollected his will to leave the end of the bed. Logan’s eyes turned soft, finding you from over his shoulder and turning around to follow the sunlight that kissed your cheeks.

“I wish, angel,” he cooed, both hands brushing your cheeks while his body towered over you “but someone already made me late, huh?”

You gave him a shy smile to meet the smirk that adorned his features, both of you sharing the memories of your bodies tangled just minutes prior. “Wanted to give you a present,” you almost whispered, remembering the one hundred times he told you he didn’t want anything for his birthday.

Not a cake, not a present, not a party. Nothing. Just you.

Logan’s smile faded, but you knew he wasn’t mad. With large hands embracing your neck softly, he kissed you on the forehead, “told you,” on the nose, “you are,” on the jaw, “the only thing i want”, and on your mouth, leaving the taste of him to linger on your lips throughout the whole day.

Your eyes slowly drifted up to find his gaze, the back of your head now resting on his palms.

“Promise” he gave you a sterner look before walking towards the door, “I promise,” you whispered, following as the smile you had earned earlier returned to his face, his back only turning to you when he heard the words fall from your lips.

But it was only a half promise. After all, he still wanted nothing but you, right?

🎀🎀🎀

The day passed by very slowly. You didn’t work on fridays, so you spent the most of it correcting some grades and planning the activities for your next week’s classes. You missed the kids, you can’t lie, and having glue and glitter all over your house definitely distracted you from the little something that was waiting patiently inside a very fancy box on the back of your closet.

The sun was setting around the time Logan would be home and you also had finished all the things you had planned earlier, so you used the time you had to take a shower and get ready.

The scent of some very sweet flower graced your nostrils when you pulled the lid of the heart-shaped box. Your eyes glowed in awe when your fingertips brushed the delicate baby pink lace, the little hairs on your lower belly goosebumping with anticipation, thinking how beautiful you’d feel in it and how the man that loved you would feel about you in it.

And that’s when you heard his steps on the stairs.

Logan arrived silently, and in part to make sure you hadn’t burnt yourself out making some sort of surprise for him. It’s not that he didn’t trust you, but all the glitter and glue on the table and the all the silence scared him a bit.

“Baby?” He called you while undressing himself down to his black t-shirt and boxers. “Oh, hey you,” his expression softened when his eyes found your head peaking from the bathroom door, gaze savoring the sight of him slowly unbuckling his belt.

“How was your day?” you asked watching him from the same spot, the muscles of his arms flexing when he reached to close the door and turn off the lights. Exactly how he said, the only things he wanted for his birthday were you, the lingerie he still didn’t know about, and the moon watching the two of you through the window.

“Great. Apparently someone told the guys it was my birthday and they let me work on paper today. So… Not so tired as I usually am.”

“I’m not sorry for that,” you smiled, knowing exactly who told the guys it was his birthday.

“I know,” he reciprocated your smirk, offering a hand in your direction. “Come here.”

Your breath got momentarily caught in your throat, excitement bursting in your body like fireworks in your veins.

“Close your eyes,” you said.

“Sweetheart-“

“Please?”

And how could he not? When your soft voice asked so nicely for him to? And the sweet and at the same time sexy scent of your perfume bewitched his thoughts? With your eyelashes blinking up at him and making the cold of his claws run to the lower of his spine? If closing his eyes would end the distance between you, then he would.

You then stepped carefully towards him, trying not to bump onto his knees and ruin the surprise.

You took both of his hands within yours, playing his fingers with your smaller ones. The simple contact made him shiver, the warmth of your presence washing all his tiredness and worries away.

“Could sit here with my eyes closed and just smell you forever”

You grinned. You knew his senses were heightened and definitely wanted to play with it tonight.

“Well, you told me you didn’t want to receive anything,” you then brought his hands to the sides of your thighs, the firmness of his palms on your soft skin sending shivers up and down your belly.

“Not totally true,” he thumbed your leg, fingertip brushing dangerously close to the fabric.

“Mhmm,” your hands glued on top of his and guided them a little lower, his palms now resting on top of the delicate, lacy garters adorning your thighs, “but I want you to feel it.”

Logan’s thoughts were in completely caos. Which of course, could only be translated by the grin on his face. You were close enough that he could not only smell your perfume and your scent, but knowing that he was the one causing that and with so little effort drove him insane. He could hear your accelerated heartbeat and used the grip on your legs to soothe you, moving his thumbs up and down, up and down, very slowly, feeling the contrast between the lacy fabric and your thighs.

“Yeah?”

You agreed silently, using your grip to move one of his hands all the way up to your belly in a very slow motion, to then release them both and let Logan’s fingers dance freely around your body.

The one hand he kept down gripped your thigh harder, snaking down to the back of your knee to bend it over his own leg, giving him better access to the rest of you. The thumb on your belly caressed around of your belly button in small circles and traced all the little flowers and bows on the thing garter that hugged your waist and decorated your breasts. The image being painted on Logan’s mind was already enough to make his underwear start to stiffen.

“Oh, baby,” he breathed, and it felt like the first fresh breath he had taken in the day.

The contrast of his rough digits with your delicate skin made your body a too tight space to contain yourself, inching closer to him at every touch. He then surrounded your middle with both of his arms and gave your stomach a kiss, your fingers playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck when he moved his face upwards, his chin rested on your tummy, eyes inching to meet yours.

“Can I see you, princess? Please?”

You hummed a quiet “mhmm”, and when he looked up at you with the most lovelorn eyes you had ever seen, you weren’t strong enough to hold back and kissed him.

It felt like the first kiss you two have had in a lifetime; deep, warm and wet. Your tongues danced together while his arms kept you impossibly closer, hands tightly holding from the back of your thighs to the top of your spine. When you parted to breathe, his eyes found yours again;

“There’s my girl. Let me see you, baby,” he held your hand in his and you took his signal to do a little spin, showing him your lacy one-piece.

“Happy birthday, love” you whispered, hands resting on his shoulders to balance yourself, one leg returning to rest on his.

“So you’re my present, hm?” Logan waited for you silent confirmation, palms devouring your thighs and ass while the kisses that he so gently placed on your knee slowly inched forward, “and do I get to unwrap you, angel?”

At that moment your walls were already pulsing with desire and your mind was already empty of words. You felt his lips wrap at a very special place on your inner thigh while his opposite hand moved up to message one of your boobs. You knew it wouldn’t take much for any of you to release control and quit the teasing, and being both on the verge of bursting the whole day waiting for the other, that was the time and the place.

You whimpered when his hand moved down and cupped your clothed center, his lips now distributing pecks on your hip while your nails dig in his shoulders.

“Gonna let me taste you, sweet girl? Hm?” He kissed your beating clit trough the lace and you nodded your head fastly, not being able to hold back anymore. You knew very well the animalistic look he had on his eyes now and the way his hands couldn’t rest in just one spot; he wanted nothing but to devour, explore and adore you.

With your consent, Logan wasted no time in sliding the delicate fabric to the side to meet your leaking pussy. The groan that left his chest when he saw your juices dripping to down your legs put your whole body on fire, followed by the cold that ran through your veins when two of his digits gently spread your lips apart.

“Fuck, look at you,” his thumb toyed with your clit, drawing little circles with a small pressure of the pad, “that’s how wet this little pussy gets for me, hm? Left you waiting the whole day to take care of you… Bad ol’ man, ain’t I?”

“N-no, you’re g-ood,” you managed to take the words out, eyes rolling to the back of your head and nails digging impossibly deeper into his shoulders when his digits lowered down and teased your opening, “and I wanna. Fuck. Wanna be good for you, Logan.”

“Oh, you are, princess. You’re my best girl.”

Pressing your clit between his lips and tongue, he sucked and savoured on it as if you were the source of all life on the planet, the most succulent fruit to the most starving man, like he himself once said; the sweetest thing he had ever tasted. His fingers pumped in and out of your hole rhythmically, hitting deeper and deeper each time. His other hand gripped your ass tightly and pressed your lower body impossibly closer to his face, making you moan loudly with all the stimulation.

You felt your walls start to clench his digits and pulled his head back by his hair to join your mouths in a wet, hot kiss, your other hand slowly removing his own from your sopping pussy, your shaking legs leading you to straddle him.

In his lap, the kiss only deepened; your and his movements were desperate, constantly searching for each other. You gripped his shirt by the collar and helped him take it off of his body, his muscular torso greeting you. Your hands eagerly pressed against his chest while Logan dig his fingers deep into your waist and moved you back and forth, your cunt pooling his underwear with the grinding of your exposed center on his throbbing and neglected cock.

“Wait- Logan, wait,” you pulled his roots again, making him moan.

“I’m here,” he rest his forehead on yours, fingers playing with the ends of your head while your breaths and heartbeats found the other’s rhythm.

“Wanna suck on you”

“Get on your knees for me then,” he demanded after a moment staring at you, trying to hide in his smile the excitement that flooded through his body.

You removed your body from his finding balance on his shoulder, lowering down to your knees on the carpet with the help of his arms around you.

He looked so, so beautiful like this. His prince hair and strong shoulders outerlined by the glowing moonlight that touched his back. His arm muscles tensin when one palm rested on his thigh and the other lowered down to finger-kiss your face. The “thank you, I love you” look he had on his eyes the whole time you were together. Who wouldn’t get get on their knees for this?

“That’s it princess, comfortable there?” You nodded and spread his legs a little, giving you space to kneel closer. He gave you another peck on the lips and moved his hands to rest flat on the bed, giving you all the freedom to do your thing.

You started by running your hands up and down his thighs while kissing down his abdomen, the thick path of hairs on his belly tickling your lips. Slowly, your hand snaked to his boxers while your mouth kept him distracted, licking the angry veins on his happy trail.

You palmed him eagerly, the volume of his member filling your whole palm and a little more. This first contact was enough to earn a raspy groan from his chest and some beads of precum that pooled on the little wet patch between his tip and boxers, where you butterfly-kissed before finally putting his underwear down.

You used your hands to spread his precum down and pump him a bit, desperate to have him in your mouth, you kept moving up and down while your mouth lowered to wrap around his tip, nursing on it like it was your favorite lollipop.

Your messiness has Logan seeing stars. Spit and precum was all over your face already, tongue darting up and down his shaft with desire. He almost screamed when your fingers played with the very top of his head and you lowered your mouth to his balls, suckling each into your mouth carefully.

“Jesus baby, that’s my girl, fuck-“

But it wasn’t enough. You were starved for him, for his pleasure. You waited the whole day to see his mouth hanging in bliss and you also wanted him to have what he wanted. You took his mouth of off his balls and kept lazily stroking him, lashes batting up to meet his eyes, “Fuck my mouth?”

Logan couldn’t believe how such a cute thing like you could look so sexy saying such filthy words. He loved it.

“Are you sure?” You nodded.

He then motioned for you to scoot back a little so he could get up, positioning himself in front of you, now both of you in front of the bed, sides facing the window.

He could die like this. The last thing he would ever see in his life could easily be you, on your knees, fucked out face with his precum and spit all over your face, with the moonlight reflecting on your rounded eyes just waiting for him to love on you. And he would die peacefully.

“Gonna start real gentle, ‘kay?” he assured you while brushing your hair back to hold it in his hands, one wrapping around the strands at the back of your head and the other holding his member.

“Lemme see this pretty tongue, baby’” he waited for your mouth to hang open and positioned his tip on top of your waiting tongue, tapping and circling it there. Logan kept teasing you (and himself) for a moment like this, smearing the leaking tip of his cock all over your mouth, tracing your tongue and lips at a torturing pace until he understood the desperate look in your widened eyes and scrunched brows, a silent “please”.

“Shh, gonna give you what y’want, princess. Suck on the tip, hm? Just the tip. Like you were doing before,” you loved when he ordered you around like this, especially when he looked so big towering over you and his voice was so low and deep like it was right now. You wasted no time in closing your already plump lips around him and deliciously suffocating his bulbous head in your mouth.

“That’s it bub, fuck. That’s my girl,” he loved when you were so obedient like you were right now during sex, his own little princess. His free hand stroked the part of his cock that wasn’t enveloped by your lips, using the mix of your spit and his own precum that was everywhere by now.

Your hands left your lap to dig into his thighs and your movements started to get more shallow, eyelids heaving and lashes blinking slowly up at him. You knew what you wanted, and Logan knew too, and he was gonna give it you.

The hand that was on his cock moved up to hold your jaw and the back of your head, inclining it up a bit so your face was now completely turned to him. This simple move of his already made his cock slip a little further into your mouth, taking a moan from both of you.

“Shhh, angel, yeah, that’s it,” his firm hold in the back of your head allowed you to stop moving and he slowly started to move his hips, pumping his cock in and out of your mouth carefully to not gag you. Not right now, at least. “Gonna give it to you slow, baby. You can take it, can’t you?” He knew an answer for you wouldn’t be exactly available at the moment, but you gave your best to manage out a nod, “know you can, bub.”

Logan kept his pace for a while before roughening and fastening it a bit to prepare you, tightening his grip on your head and steading the movements of his hips, his cock now halfway into your mouth, in and out, in and out. He felt your lips and throat loosening and the gagging sounds leaving your lips were driving him insane, his bones were on fire from keeping back and not just fuck your throat like he (and you) wanted.

When his tip kissed the edge of your throat you let your eyes close and your hands fall to his calf, letting him know you were ready, “just a bit more, sweet girl, just-“ his tip entered your throat with ease, curving a bit to follow its anatomy. When your lips finally touched the hairs on his base and his whole cock was seated into your hot mouth, he stilled completely.

You could hear his heavy breathing as if he ran a marathon in five minutes. The silence between the two of you letting you know that if he said or did anything he was surely cuming at that right moment. Logan’s eyes were closed and his head turned to the ceiling, brows furrowed trying to contain himself.

Your fingers caressed his leg slightly, reminding him you were ready, and when his gaze turned down to give you attention, dark and serious, like a big wolf preying down a little bunny, you knew what he was feeling. It faded quickly though when his eyes found yours, his rough expression turning into a smile, “you’re my best girl, aren’t you? That’s what y’wanted babe? To choke on my dick?”

You blinked your eyes assuringly, the heaviness of your eyelids taking a sexy, deep laugh from his chest. His hand left your head momentarily to caress your cheek with the back of his point finger, “think you can swallow for me?” he whispered.

You’ve done that before, and the feeling was nothing like anything you’ve ever experienced, the both of you. And you felt that it was coming by the calm and patient way he was dealing with you tonight. Logan was always careful to ask for things that edged your limits, always trying his best to keep you safe and comfortable. And who were you to deny the birthday boy what he was asking for?

You prepared yourself and slowly clenched your throat, suffocating his tip in the curve of it. Tears involuntarily pooled and fell from your eyes with the overstimulation and the feeling of oh, being so full of him, of his cock angrily pulsing in the whole extent of your mouth and now your throat. Logan’s eyes turned to the back of his head and his mouth hanged open, his fingers flexing in your hair to not lose control.

“O-one more time ba-“ and before he could even finish his sentence you were swallowing him down again, this time earning a loud and raspy groan from him, “fuck! baby, c’mon,” he carefully pulled himself from your mouth, cock hanging angry and desperate from your activities. “Need to feel you,” and kissed you hungrily.

He pulled you by your arms and intertwined them around his neck, tapping your bum slightly in a sign for you to jump in his lap. Logan was careful to drop you on the bed, never parting your lips and laying with his whole body weight on top of you. The hairs on his chest feathering over your nipples and the kiss of his tip over your folds were growing in you a type of desire you couldn’t quite decipher.

Sweat, spit and love were everywhere, your bodies swayed under the moonlight as if you were one. While your tongues fought for space into the other’s mouth, he reached a hand down and starting to thumb your clit, applying a delicious amount of pressure that had your mouth unplugging from his with a whine. When you felt his head finally circling your hole, you released him and turned around.

“Like that?” Logan watched as you switched positions, large palm finding your lower back while you placed yourself tummy down on the bed. “Can we?” you whispered, looking at him over your shoulder.

Logan smiled; if you kept being this cute he was going to fuck the sense out of you without effort. His other hand reached behind your knee and lifted it, giving him more easy access to you. Positioning himself into your entrance, he slipped his cock up and down your folds, your juices mixing in a squelching sound.

When he felt your hole flutter and your eyes close, your smaller fingers gripping the sheets, he reached up and kissed a drying tear in your cheek, “shhh baby, g’na go slow, ‘kay?” you nodded. There’s no exaggeration, Logan was big. Big and wide and veiny and filled you in all the right places.

The moment his head eased into you, you were seeing stars. The way your walls spread to welcome his girth made your mind fuzzy and all your senses heightened, the moan he left ecoed in your brain and the touch of his hand embracing yours burned like fire. He slowly pressed forward until his cock was perfectly engulfed inside you, both his member and your walls pulsing in unison.

“Move,” you mewled, fingers gripping his thumb in need. Logan used the hand on the small of your back to balance himself, starting to pump in an out at a perfect pace; not so fast but not so slow, deep, deep as he could to kiss every inch of your cunt and rearrange your insides.

“Pussy so warm, angel. Gripping me so tight,” he sad in your ear, “my little sweet gift.”

Stars exploded all the way down your spine, the fullness of his cock pumping your pussy and the weight of his body pressing on top of yours drove you over the edge, your walls gripping him tightly while you came, bringing his thumb into your mouth.

“That’s it, sweet girl, come for me,” he kissed your temple, “gush this cock, it’s all yours,” Logan slowed his pace inside you to let you calm down, caressing your hair and distributing kisses around your teary eyes.

“Think you can take a bit more, princess?” he whispered gently in your ear, his cock still throbbing inside you, “just a bit and I’ll be done. So I can fill your pussy up and good? Keep you full and plugged with me, hm?” You nodded with his thumb still between your lips and felt his hips meet your ass again.

It was so good. The overstimulation had you throbbing nonstop and your head in the clouds. Logan’s groans and moans were music to your ears along with his “that’s it, princess, fuck”, “whose’s pussy is this, hm? All mine to fuck and love on, ain’t it?”, “yeah, baby, that’s my sweet girl. Taking it so good f’me”, until he himself could take anymore, his cock pulsating and balls stiffening, until his voice got muffled by a low groan and you felt his seed fill you completely, gushing your insides and spilling down and off your walls.

“Fuck, fuck,” he whispered, tired. His forehead rested on your temple as you both calmed down, breathing harmonised. Logan awaited until you opened your eyes and delicately pulled his thumb from your mouth, brushing your hair off of your face.

“Hi,” he smiled.

“Hey,” you reciprocated, receiving a little peck on the lips, that turned into many many kisses all over your face while his palm messaged your back. “Thank you, sweetheart. Gonna pull out now, ‘kay?”

While Logan left to the bathroom to clean himself and find a cloth to clean you, you rested your chin on your forearms and stared up at the full moon through the window, sweetly reminiscing the last hour and thanking her for him. On moments like these all your mind could process was Logan Logan Logan.

“Here, bub,” he carefully whipped the fluids from your pussy, the pair of you giggling when you clenched in sensitivity, “c’mon, I draw the bath.”

You hand Logan spent another hour in the warm bath, cleaning and caressing and stealing kisses while the bubbles danced on your skin. You rested your head on his chest and lifted one finger, using the others to simulate a lighter to lit up the “candle”. “Here, make a wish,” you motioned it in front of his face, taking a laugh from him, who closed his eyes and made some funny faces to amuse you. He then blew your finger and playfully bit it, “what did you wish?”

“Well, I can’t tell you, can I?”

You kissed him and closed your eyes, laying back to your position on his shoulder.

“You. You’re my only wish.”

🎀🎀🎀

#my first logan pieeece #like ms carpenter said #i’m so fucking hoooorrnyyy #hope you guys like it i had so much fun writing it and have soo many ideias for him!#logan howlett #logan howlet smut #logan howlet x reader #x men x reader #x men fanfiction #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfiction #lumberjack logan #my writing

2K notes · View notes

imaginedisish · 3 months ago

Text

I'm Not In Love (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: Okay, so this if my first fic in over a year, and it's also my first Wolverine fic...so please be kind. I'm just getting back into the groove. Expect it to possibly be a little rough. This is big time inspired by "I'm Not In Love" by 10cc. This fic is also thanks to a request I got from an anonymous user! Thanks for the idea, anon! Hope it's okay! Enjoy guys.

Summary: After harboring a crush on Logan for months, things finally come to a head while on an overnight mission.

Warnings: SMUT. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. There's like no plot here just smut, Unprotected PIV sex (wrap it up), Oral (f!receiving), AFAB reader, Sizekink!(this was a specific size kink request, and so the reader is therefore described as being smaller than Logan/his shirt being big on her), cursing, praise kink, OOC!Logan (just putting this out there because I haven't seen the X-Men movies/read X-Men comics in forever and I'm probably giving him terms he doesn't use/having him act in ways he might not typically), feelings, cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, one bed muahaha, probably grammar errors, think that's it?

Word Count: 3,162 I got carried away

He was driving you absolutely crazy. Logan. Logan fucking Howlett, with his cocksure attitude and self-satisfied smile. Maybe it’s the way he thinks he’s always right. Maybe it’s that stupid stubbornness, that prowl he does when he walks across a room to meet you. To mock you. His whole being towering over you—his musky, pine-scented cologne filling your lungs. He’s everywhere—and not just metaphorically—literally and physically. His giant frame shadows yours, and you can’t help but admit that there’s something about it…something about him.

You want him. Bad. And although you won’t admit it, you’ve wanted him for months. And so, as of lately, he’s not so much a nuisance as much as he’s a distraction.

You just had to be sent on this mission with Logan—this ridiculous two-day stake-out that you could have done on your own. You’re certainly strong enough; your telekinetic powers and regenerative abilities are enough to handle any situation. And yet, here you are, walking up to a motel with Logan fucking Howlett.

His frame practically consumes yours as he stands behind you on the sidewalk. You swear you can feel the ghost of his fingertips against your waist, impatient and ready to guide you forward. You silently wish he would—wish he would grab your hips and take you down that alleyway and—

“You okay, darlin’?” His voice is gruff against the shell of your ear. “You seem awfully distracted.”

You swallow your embarrassment and hope he won’t pick up on how fast your heart is beating. “I’m fine, just tired,” you mutter, lying straight through your teeth. You can feel his smirk against the side of your head. He has to know what he’s doing. He has to know how much you want him.

He chuckles and his chest vibrates against your back. “Too tired for the mission, bub? We’re almost at the motel, don’t worry.” The condescension in his voice is palpable. He knows exactly how to get under your skin. You’re putty in his hands.

He steps out from behind you, and before you can mourn the loss of the contact, he grabs your hand and leads the way through the doors of the motel. “This okay?” He whispers in your ear, his massive hand giving your smaller one a squeeze. All you can manage is a nod as you approach the front desk. You know it’s just to support your cover—you and Logan are posing as a married couple—but you can’t help but hope it means more. You need it to mean more.

God, you are so fucked.

You’re so distracted thinking about how close Logan is to you that you almost miss the moment when the worker at the front desk says the only room left has just one bed.

You crane your head to look up at Logan, who you find is already looking down at you.

“That’s perfect,” he says, his eyes still on you. His stare doesn’t budge as the man behind the front desk slides the key towards the two of you. Logan grabs the keys and finally breaks the moment. His hand is still holding yours as he navigates the two of you toward your motel room.

The room is…small. There’s one queen bed in the center, a bathroom on the other side of the room, and an old box television resting on an even older-looking oak dresser. On the bright side, the place appears to be clean.

“I should freshen up,” you say, taking off your shoes. Your hand slips out of Logan’s as you pad over to the bathroom with your bag.

The bathroom isn’t horrible either. Dated, but clean. You brush your teeth and wash your face before undressing and searching for your pajamas in your bag—which, naturally, you forgot to pack.

“Ah fuck,” You mutter louder than you meant to.

You hear Logan stirring in the other room, his footsteps quickly approaching the door. “You okay?” You can sense the concern in his voice, and you can’t help but smile.

“Yeah, just forgot to pack something to wear to bed.” There’s more shuffling on the other side of the door. You hear Logan’s bag zip.

“You want my shirt?” He asks, standing just outside the door now.

“I’d feel bad, then you—” Your protests are ignored as he opens the door just enough to toss his Calgary Flames t-shirt onto the bathroom sink, closing it tightly once the shirt lands. You smirk as you walk over to the shirt and put it on. The hem lands at the middle of your thighs. Logan really is massive, you think to yourself.

You take a deep breath, slowly twist the knob of the bathroom door, and head outside. Logan is lounging on the chair next to the dresser, his eyes on you as you place your bag down on the floor at the foot of the bed.

“Th-thanks for the…” You stutter, trailing off as you nod down to the shirt.

Logan smirks as he pushes himself out of the chair and makes his way toward you. You think you see him take you in, look you up and down, but that can’t possibly be.

He shakes his head as he stops at your side. You swear you hear him mutter a low fuck under his breath. “You look good.” But he doesn’t stop for long. He pushes forward and into the bathroom. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he mumbles as he shuts the door behind him.

“Let’s just share the bed,” you shout back, unsure of where the confidence to say that came from. But there’s no response, just the running of water from the sink.

You sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for what feels like forever, but Logan doesn’t take long at all. After a few minutes, you hear the sink shut off and the door creek open.

You shake your head as you stand from the bed to face him. “By the way, you’re not sleeping on the floor, don’t be ridic—” You’re too stunned to say another word. You’ve seen Logan shirtless before, sure, but not like this. Not in just his boxers. Not in a room with him, alone, for an entire night. You need to relax, to calm down, but there’s nowhere else to go, and nothing else to look at. You know he can your heart beating out of your chest now.

He steps toward you, engulfing you with his presence. You stare up at him. “Am I really that scary?” He closes the distance between the two of you.

You try to play dumb. “W-what are you talking about?”

“Every time I get close to you, that little heart of yours practically explodes.”

You swallow roughly. “I d-don’t know what you’re talking about, Logan.” But your shaky voice gives it away. You know exactly what he means.

His arms snake around your waist, resting on your lower back. “Yeah, you do, darlin’,” he says. “You afraid of me or something?” God he is so fucking cocky, you think to yourself.

“’M’not afraid of you,” you whisper. “Could never be afraid of you.”

He smiles and walks you to the edge of the bed, your knees threatening to buckle under the pressure. “What is it then, hm? You like how big I am? That it?” Your eyes frantically search his face for some sort of excuse, some sort of denial. But he can read you like a book. “Yeah, I think that’s it.” He’s towering over you, caging you in.

“It’s more than that,” you admit.

He cocks his head to the side. “Oh yeah? What?” He won’t let that be enough—you know he won’t. He’ll tease it out of you. His presence is dizzying and distracting. You’re not even sure you can form another complete sentence.

“I-it’s just you,” you finally choke out.

But it’s not enough for him. “What about me?”

Everything, you want to say. You want to tell him how you feel. “Logan, I…” But you can’t. I’m not in love, that’s what you’ve been trying to convince yourself of for months.

“Go on, say it. What’s got you going?” He tightens his grip around your waist, his thumbs rubbing gently along your back. He leans down, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

Your eyes flutter shut, and you take a deep breath. He’s everything and he’s everywhere. He’s in your head and in your hands. You can smell the musk and the pine and a hint of mint and that extra thing that is just distinctly him. He’s warm and his breath ever-so-lightly tickles your ear as his forehead rests against yours.

And then finally, it comes out.

“I want you, Lo.”

You open your eyes and immediately notice the change in his expression. That cocky grin is gone. He isn’t teasing anymore. This is something else. Want. No, stronger than that. Desire. Adoration. Longing. Like those four words undid something in him. Untangled some knot that had been there for far too long. Almost like he thought you maybe wouldn’t want this. That maybe someone wouldn’t want him.

So, you say it again. “I want you, Logan.”

He shuts his eyes. “Fuck.”

And then he’s pushing you down onto the mattress. His lips find their way to yours, crashing like the world is about to end. You can feel his hunger, his desperation. He rests one hand next to your head for balance and slips his free hand underneath the shirt he lent you. He’s exploring the curves of your body, the dips and turns, eventually pulling the shirt up and over your head.

He comes up for air as his fingers play with the clasp of your bra. You watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “This okay?” He asks, waiting for your approval. You nod and the hooks are immediately undone. You arch your back so he can slip the bra off. “Fuck, pretty girl,” he mumbles. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

His hands find their way to your chest, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, teasing you, pinching lightly.

“Lo, please. Need you,” is all you can say.

He trails a line of kisses down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, the center of your chest, his mouth traveling achingly slowly until finally landing on one of your tits. He kisses your nipple before taking it into his mouth, biting lightly and licking the hurt away.

“Please,” you beg again.

He comes up for a moment. “Please what?” He asks before moving on to the other side.

“Need you so bad,” You whimper. But he doesn’t stop. “N-need you to touch me.”

He pauses again. “Think I’m already doing that, darlin’. Gonna have to be more specific.”

“Fuck me, please.”

He shakes his head. “Wanna make you feel good first, pretty girl.”

You sit up a bit, ready to protest. “But you are. You’re making me feel so—” You’re cut off by the sight of him staring up at you as he trails kisses down your stomach, stopping at the top of your panties. He grabs your hips and pushes you further into the center of the bed. His fingers slip under the hem of your panties, waiting for your approval. You nod, and he practically tears them right off you.

Logan kisses the inside of your thigh, slowly charting a path toward your core, his thumb tracing circles on the other thigh. You’re already squirming under his touch. “Lo,” You whimper. “Please—Fuck!” Without warning, his tongue licks a long stripe up your folds to your clit. His lips lock around it, sucking softly, his fingers suddenly teasing your entrance before slipping a finger inside.

“So tight darlin’. Gonna feel so good,” he mumbles against you, the vibrations of his deep voice sending a jolt up your spine.

He’s taking his time, tasting you, savoring you. His tongue laps at your cunt, licking slow circles as his finger pumps in and out. You need more.

“Lo,” You call out, your back arching in pleasure. But he doesn’t answer. He keeps going as if he’s gotten lost in you, as if there’s nothing that can possibly be said to bring him back. “Lo, please,” you moan again.

He chuckles against your core. “Please what, pretty girl?” He mumbles. You can feel his smirk against you.

“M-more,” you beg. You can feel his smirk grow wider as his motions stall. “No don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

He looks up at you, his finger buried deep inside your cunt, his lips just inches from your clit. “Wanna take my time with you, darlin’.”

“Y-you c-can,” You stutter. “W-whatever you want. Just need more.”

“More?” He repeats, arrogantly tilting his head. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight.

“Yes, please.” But you know by the look in his eyes that you’re getting more than you bargained for.

He adds another finger, pumping in and out faster than before. His lips latch onto your clit, sucking roughly. It’s overwhelming, and you know he isn’t going to let up. His tongue draws circles around your core, flicking harshly before ruthlessly sucking again. You can feel a third finger prodding your entrance before slipping in and stretching you out.

“This what you wanted?” He teases.

“Lo, I—” It’s too much, you can’t speak.

“I’ve got you darlin’. I’m right here. You’re doing so good for me.” His words by themselves practically send you over the edge.

“’M’so close Logan,” You whimper, spurring him on. His pace quickens; his circles become harder. You can feel your walls tightening around his fingers.

“I know, pretty girl. Wanna feel you come on my fingers. Can you do that for me?”

You can’t even speak anymore. All you can manage is a hum that passes for an affirmative. He pumps in and out of you, still alternating between sucking your clit and circling it with his tongue.

“Look so beautiful like this darlin’. So fucking beautiful,” He husks. And that’s all it takes to make that liquid heat, that tension building in the bottom of your stomach, cut like a knife, pouring out of you. Your vision blurs as you let yourself go. You chant his name like it’s a prayer, a spell, something otherworldly. He finally slows down, letting you ride out your orgasm.

He pulls out and away from you, crawling up your body so that he’s on top of you. He’s absolutely huge; his arms rest next to your head, caging you in. “You alright sweetheart?” He asks, one hand coming up to cup your cheek as he presses a chaste kiss against your forehead.

“Hm,” You hum. “Like you like this.”

There’s that cocky smirk again. “Like what?”

“O-on top of me,” You admit freely now. Your arms come up to wrap around his shoulders, but he quickly pins them above your head.

He smiles widely, his forehead coming down to rest on yours. You can feel his erection press against your core through his boxers. And—fuck—he’s big. “Gonna fuck you like this then, okay pretty girl?”

“P-please,” you stutter.

He sits up, pulling his boxers down, revealing just how big he is. You swallow harshly, sitting up and watching as he casts his boxers to the side. He doesn’t let you watch for long. He pins you down again, one hand keeping your hands above your head and supporting his weight, while the other guides his cock to your entrance. His slides against your folds before slowly sinking inside you. You can’t help but arch your back to meet his chest.

Everything is slow. He’s taking his time again, letting himself feel every inch of you, giving you the chance to adjust to the size of him. His free hand reaches in between your bodies and finds your clit, drawing slow, gentle circles.

His forehead rests against yours as he thrusts into you. “Wanted this for so long,” he confesses, his thrusts growing faster. “Always wanted you, darlin’.” You can feel your heart burst in your chest as his lips meet yours. You can feel his hunger, his desire.

“Wanted you too,” You whisper against his lips between kisses.

His cock rubs against your walls, hitting that sweet spot every single time. He’s massive, stretching you out with each pump. He builds speed, his thrusts growing rougher as his fingers circle your clit faster.

He whispers praises in your ear. “You feel so good, pretty girl. So fucking tight. Need you, darlin’. Always.”

Always.

It’s all too much. The words, the vulnerability, the feeling of him rutting into you with no end in sight. The promise of something else, something more.

“Logan, I’m gonna…” You trail off, your walls tightening around him. It’s all so overwhelming. But if you’re being honest, you never want it to end. This. This feeling. Him inside you. Him around you.

He curses under his breath, his thrusts becoming sloppier and faster as he chases his orgasm. “I know darlin’. Wanna feel you come on my cock.” He keeps his fingers steady on your clit, circling roughly, chasing your orgasm too.

“Lo,” You mumble. “It’s so good. Y-you’re so good, so b-beautiful.” You’re a bumbling mess, but you want him to feel good too, to know what he’s doing to you, to know that he deserves this. Deserves to be wanted.

You feel wetness on his cheeks as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. “Always wanted you,” he whispers again against the shell of your ear. “Always gonna want you.”

The tension snaps, and you feel blaring white heat ripple through your body. Logan somehow buries himself deeper inside you as you come, your walls squeezing him tighter.

“F-fuck,” he groans. “Where do you want—”

You cut him off this time. “Inside, please,” you pant. “Safe.” He curses under his breath and calls out your name as he fills you up.

“So perfect,” he whispers. “So fucking perfect.”

His thrusts slow down as he finishes, and he slowly pulls out of you. But he doesn’t pull away. He keeps you close, moving you both towards the headboard. It takes a minute, but he manages to keep you close to his chest as he undoes the covers and gets you both inside them.

Logan holds you tightly, peppering kisses against your temples every now and then.

He’s the first to speak. “When I said always…” He trails off. You brace yourself for the worst. It was just the heat of the moment, bub. ‘M’sorry I said it. This shouldn’t happen again. It was a one-time thing and I—

“I meant it.”

You look up at him, eyes wide. He smiles. But it’s not that cocky smile, not that self-satisfied shit-eating grin. It’s that other thing again. Longing.

“I meant it, too.”

tags: @cypherpt5fttaehyung

#logan howlett x reader #James Logan howlett x reader #Logan howlett smut #Logan howlett x reader smut #Logan howlett x you #Logan howlett x you smut #James Logan howlett smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine x reader smut #wolverine smut #Logan howlett x reader one bed #wolverine x reader one bed

5K notes · View notes

robo-writing · 24 days ago

Text

Kinktober Day Seven: Origins! Logan - Breeding Kink

| Kinktober Masterlist |

You know your husband can be in touch with his animal side, but never like this.

You think it has something to do with the guys at his job, how they were pulling his tail when you brought him lunch today—how they were staring at you when you kissed him in greeting.

A whistle, and then: “Sure wish I had a girl like you to keep me fed.”

You ignore it, this particular guy always had something to say about you and Logan, but it seems he managed to hit a nerve today. You feel Logan’s arm around the small of your back get tighter while the other guys tell him to quit it, to which he says:

“What? I’m just saying if I had a girl as sweet as her, I’d never let her leave the house. Hell, I’d give her a baby by now. What’s the wait?”

“You seem to be awfully interested in our lives,” you bite back, looking back at Logan who is uncharacteristically silent, taking your lunch with a tight-lipped smile in return. Odd, you thought to yourself, but maybe for the best. You’d rather not pay anyone’s hospital bills today.

Little did you know that when Logan returned from work he’d take those words to heart. He didn’t say a word, just dropped his work bag at the foot of the door and made a beeline towards you, ignoring the dinner still cooking on the stove. You even had to beg him for a second, just barely managing to turn the burners off before the whole house burned down—honestly, you’re not even sure he’d stop even if it was.

You didn’t know the true extent of your husbands animal side, not until he bent you over the kitchen counter and fucked you like one.

It’s his heat against your back, his teeth scraping against the side of your neck, his hands anchored onto your hips as he pistons into your aching cunt. It’s his voice in your ear like the devil, whispering both satisfaction and sin, enough to make you submit—to indulge in the forbidden fruit.

“Lemme fuck a baby in you sweetheart, lemme make you mine.”

It’s all he can say, all he could think about since you left work. You carrying his babies, the swell of your stomach, your protruding tits—

“I know you wanna, come on baby,” he moans, begging like a dog for a bone, tongue damn near licking at your face like one. “Lemme breed you honey, you’d look so good with my babies.”

His hand pulls below you, past where you’re connected and right against your stomach, rubbing it as you cry out in pleasure. “Right here, nice and full. Just think about it baby—“

You feel yourself clench at the thought, some kind of animal instinct begging to keep him as far inside of you as possible, to ensure he keeps good on his promise—to make certain he doesn’t dream about pulling out.

“Ah, pussy’s just throbbing thinkin’ about it,” he gasps, a quick slap to your clit making you see stars. Your legs buckle under the intensity of his thrusts, drool leaking from your lips as Logan fucks any and all sense out of you. You’re off in space, so far away you can’t register a word he says but you cry out yes, yes, yes anyway.

Your permission is all he needs.

He’s elation, bliss incarnate, even when exhaustion threatens to take him he pushes further, harder, faster, cum dripping down your shaky thighs. So full, so warm.

Even when you beg him for a reprieve he doesn’t stop, his strong back keeping you pinned against the granite as he fucks you stupid.

“Gonna make you a mother sweetheart,” he grunts, his words punctuated by the warmth of his cum filling up your battered and bruised pussy. “Then everyone’ll know who you belong to.”

#robo writes #logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #kinktober #probably my favorite prompt :3 #kinktober 2024

1K notes · View notes

mistyorchid · 2 months ago

Text

Meet-Cute (Ch. 2)

Old Man Logan x fem! reader

summary: Logan is a man of his word. You and Logan have your first date in the only nice restaurant in town, except it doesn't last long because you want him the food hot to go. Ch. 1 Ch 3 warnings: MDNI, no use of y/n, smut, age gap, reader is 21+, pet names (doll, baby), oral (fem! receiving), fingering, praise kink, light slapping, logan's claws come out, set after the events of Logan (2017) except he doesn't die, some angst it's all in logan's head dw. wc: 4k

Logan mindlessly traced the glass of water he'd been nursing for the past hour. The circular rim numbed his finger as he theorized all the reasons you might've been late.

He tended to foster seeds of doubt within his mind, an old habit that was built by decades of loss and betrayal. Romance was almost always an empty promise.

Logan checked the clock on the wall without moving his head, not wanting the other patrons to assume he was being stood up. He enjoyed wallowing in his solitude by drinking alone at dingy bars, but that was before he met you. Now, all he could fantasize about was showing you off to every establishment in town, softly guiding you to each bar counter by the small of your back.

The Italian place on fifth street, 8PM, you recited after exiting Logan's limo last night. Before opening the door, you checked your phone. 7:50 PM. You would've arrived twenty minutes earlier, but you didn't want to seem too eager, so you decided to touch up your makeup before heading out.

Logan noticed the restaurant's comforting hum cease when you entered the lobby. He's pretty sure he could hear some poor guy choke on a meatball, stunned at the sight of your little black dress.

You were busy exchanging information with the maître d', nervously darting your eyes around the room to find your date. When he realized you mouthed the word, "Logan," he sprung up from the booth and briskly walked to the lobby.

"Evening, doll," he beamed, extending his arm. A faint blush settled on your cheeks as you looped your hand around his bicep. He stole glances at your outfit as he guided you to the booth, suddenly leaning down to whisper, "You look stunning. I'm glad you came."

Logan gestured towards the seat opposite him, but you motioned for him to scoot further into the booth so you could sit alongside each other.

He raised an eyebrow, confused by the unusual arrangement. You explained, "I want to be next to you, if that's okay. Sitting across from you feels way too formal after last night."

Logan inhaled sharply, suddenly reminded of the intoxicating drag of your skin against his. He replayed the heavenly echo of your debauched whines in his head, silently praying that you'd let him hear them again.

"Yeah, of course," he agreed, sliding to the end of the booth.

You followed, leaving a small gap. The urge to connect your thigh with his was strong, but you tried to maintain decorum for the other patrons. Your eyes briefly met Logan's before surveying the table, noticing that the candle in the centerpiece was comically short.

"How long have you been waiting?" You asked, peering up at Logan's relieved face.

He stroked his beard, contemplating whether to be truthful or lie to save face. "About an hour," he responded. Logan decided that you deserved the truth; he wanted the foundation of your budding relationship to be built on candor. "You weren't late, I arrived way too fuckin' early. Haven't been this nervous for a first date since . . . well, ever."

You pouted your lips and gently placed your right hand on his thigh. He instantly flexed, surprised at the abrupt contact.

"Aw, baby . . . " You doted, slightly leaning to whisper into his ear. "There's nothin' to be nervous about. You already know I like you enough to suck your co-"

Logan swallowed the end of your sentence, his left hand cradling your jaw to angle your lips into his. You gasped into his mouth, earning a playful bite on your lower lip.

"You wanna give me a heart attack, doll? Jesus Christ." He muttered, releasing his grip on you and straightening himself in the booth.

You smirked, removing your hand from his thigh. A waiter appeared, acknowledging your arrival. "Ah, good evening, signorina," he beamed. "Mr. Howlett has been patiently waiting for you. Welcome to Frizzante."

While placing two menus on the table, he started reciting the specials, emphasizing the last item. "Tonight, our chef has prepared a Festa degli Innamorati. Lover's Feast," he translated.

Logan wanted the seat cushions to swallow him whole. Frizzante's sous chef was a personal friend of his; the bastard must've seen his name on the reservation and whipped up something special to embarrass him.

You stifled a laugh at the sight of Logan's dumbfounded expression. "It's served family-style, with two separate plates so you can share. It's a beautiful spaghetti dish blended with the savory roe of sea urchins and fresh margherita tomatoes. I assure you, it's an incredibly rich and unique experience."

"That sounds wonderful," you chimed, appreciating the waiter's suggestion.

Logan couldn't help admiring the sweet smile that spread across your face. He slid the menus towards the waiter before responding, "We'll take the Lover's Feast, thank you." He silently cringed at the feeling of the special name rolling off his tongue, but he found himself willing to curtail his pride if it made you happy.

The steady hum of the restaurant lulled you into a comfortable silence. The waiter soon returned with a glass of water and a warm basket that filled the air with the savory scent of flour and butter.

Logan picked it up, offering you a slice. "Would you like some bread?"

"Yes, please. Thank you." You giggled as you retrieved a slice.

After you sunk your teeth into the aromatic bread, he took a slice for himself. "What's so funny?" He asked, playfully raising his eyebrows.

You chewed slowly, savoring the richness of the dough. "You're being so . . . proper. I'm not used to guys treating dates like . . ."

". . . A date?" Logan finished, perplexed by your response. "Those guys don't know how to treat a woman." He huffed, wondering how anyone could fuck up the privilege of courting you.

Your eyes raked over his clean blazer, following the strong curve of his arm before landing on his wrist.

"You're wearing cufflinks . . . " You murmured, in awe of the lustrous material.

Logan moved his arm closer so you could feel them. "You gotta expect more than the bare minimum, baby." He chuckled.

You slowly swirled the round cufflinks with your middle finger. "So-" You paused, shifting closer so your bare leg finally grazed the cool material of his slacks. "-If you're so traditional, why didn't you pick me up?"

Logan cleared his throat, stunned by your confidence. "I would've, doll, trust me. Then I figured that you might've been uncomfortable if I asked where you lived. Best to meet in a public space," he reasoned.

His concern for your safety was undeniably attractive. You stopped tracing the edge of his cufflinks before whispering, "I fucked you within an hour of meeting you. I would've been comfortable giving you my address."

The fragrant smell of your pasta dish wafted through the aisle, momentarily relieving Logan from having to respond.

"Attached at the hip already?" The waiter quipped, noticing your proximity to Logan. He delicately lowered the platter onto the table, followed by two silverware sets and the most intricate plates you've ever seen.

"Buon appetito." The waiter gestured towards the dish with a grand flourish of his hand and then promptly walked away.

Logan waited for him to be out of earshot before saying, "I want to get to know you, but you're making it extremely fuckin' difficult with that dirty mouth of yours."

He used his utensils to scoop a large portion of pasta onto your plate before serving himself.

You bit your lip, picking up a fork to slowly twirl the fresh noodles. "Alright, what do you wanna know?" You asked, lifting the fork into your mouth.

"What do you do for fun? Besides fucking strangers within an hour of meeting them."

You choked on your food, shooting an accusatory glare towards Logan. "Okay, okay . . . you got me good. Um, I like going to shows. Punk, country, pop . . . I just love to feel the music in my bones."

Logan put his fork down and rested his chin on his palm, invested in your answer. He briefly envisioned your hips swaying to the soulful twang of Willie Nelson. "Live music, huh? I know a club around here that promotes every genre under the sun. We should go some time."

His left hand traced gentle circles on your knee. "This okay?" He asked, briefly pausing his movements. You rested your fork on the plate. "Mhm," you chirped, pleased by his courtesy.

"I also enjoy making art," you continued. Logan leaned closer. The majority of his past was dedicated to destroying things and harming people. He'd always admired those who used their time on earth to create.

"What kind of art?" Logan asked. You were distracted by the warmth of his palm, which was now splayed over the broad expanse of your thigh.

"I, uh- I like drawing, painting, making collages . . . mostly drawing, though. It's peaceful, you know? Making something out of nothing." You chewed the inside of your cheek, flustered by how intently Logan was looking at you.

He was daydreaming about making space for a studio back at the smelting plant, bringing you tea while you worked well into the night. The domesticity that he secretly yearned for manifested itself in your image.

"You're so beautiful, you know that? Could listen to you talk forever."

You smiled and bashfully looked down into your lap. "Thank you . . . " You lingered, focused on how he absentmindedly stroked your thigh with his thumb.

"What about you? What do you do in your free time?" You asked, peering up at him through your eyelashes.

"After work, I usually head to a bar and pop a couple of quarters in the jukebox to hear Cash while I drink."

Your eyes lit up at the mention of your favorite country artist. "Cash? Like, Johnny Cash? I love him."

Logan couldn't believe that you didn't make a snide remark about his "hobby." He elaborated anyway, not wanting to seem lazy in comparison.

"Yeah, exactly. I also like fixin' old motorcycles and gardening. Keeps me in shape, I guess." He didn't miss the way your thigh flexed, reacting to his words.

You loved a man who was handy . . . in more ways than one.

"You wanna get out of here?" You asked, desperate to relieve the palpable tension that settled in the charged space between your bodies. Your senses were overwhelmed again; the heady scent of his cologne mixing nicely with the smokey tendrils emanating from the candle.

Logan smirked. "I thought you'd never ask. My place or yours?"

Although your apartment was only a short walk's distance from the restaurant, you wanted to immerse yourself in a slice of Logan's world.

"I'd love to go home with you, if that's okay." You shyly tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

He fished out his wallet and haphazardly threw more than enough cash to cover the bill and your waiter's tip. The velvet material of your dress bunched around your thighs, further exaggerating the short hem.

Logan averted his eyes as you slid out of the booth. You turned around and tilted your head, realizing why he wasn't looking at you. "You're such a gentleman," you praised, straightening your dress.

Logan didn't feel like a gentleman when he helped you into the passenger seat of his limo. He almost opened the back door, reminded of your first night together.

Your eyes grew heavy an hour into the drive. You yawned, soothed by the soft turns of the road and the limo's plush headrest.

"Sorry, doll. My place is a bit farther, away from the city." Logan apologized. "Feel free to rest up. I'll wake you when we get there," he continued.

You surrendered to your fatigue and closed your eyes. "Mkay. Thanks, Logan."

He smiled, glancing at the passenger seat a few times to admire how peaceful you looked.

The first thing you felt when you woke up was Logan's callused hands supporting the back of your knees and your spine. You felt pleasantly weightless above the ground, realizing that Logan was carrying you past the threshold of a doorway.

"Mornin," he joked, noticing you scanning your surroundings. It was still late in the evening.

"Didn't want to wake you," he whispered, gently setting you on his bed. The smooth texture of the sheets contrasted with the rough corrugated walls of your environment.

"Where exactly do you live?" You asked, puzzled by the industrial nature of his home.

"A smelting plant north of the border. People leave me alone out here," he chuckled.

Logan exhaled as he sat on the edge of his bed, turning to meet your shocked expression.

"You mean I'm in Mexico right now? Logan!" You exclaimed, lightly slapping his arm.

He caught your wrist, weaving his large fingers through yours. "You're lucky I'm such a gentleman," he teased, reiterating your choice of words a few hours prior. Your hand relaxed into his.

"First, you followed me into my car. Tonight, you fell asleep while I drove to fuckin' Mexico. Now, you're in my bed wearing nothin' but a cute little dress," Logan smirked, letting his hand fall on his knee. His back ached from turning to caress your palm.

You blushed. "I can tell you're a good guy. I wouldn't have gone home with you if I didn't."

Logan doubted your praise. I'll force myself to pretend that's true, he thought.

The comforting chirp of cicadas serenaded you from outside. Linen curtains gently billowed above your head; the cool night air swathing your body like a translucent blanket. Logan suddenly averted his eyes, exposing the rugged plane of his neck. You breathed in notes of fresh cotton and bourbon as his potent cologne fanned out across the room.

"I need you, Logan." You sighed, slowly drifting onto your back and languidly spreading your legs. Your dress prevented you from fully relieving the throbbing sensation in your core, so you settled for tracing the inside of your thigh instead.

You faint sighs cascaded over your arched form and into Logan's ears like a siren's song.

Too many fuckin' layers, he thought, quickly unbuttoning his blazer and dress shirt before tossing them onto the floor.

He groaned when you skimmed the hard outline of his torso, gently tracing a prominent scar that ran across his ribcage. Logan leaned into your touch, closing his eyes and releasing hushed breaths.

He could get used to you tending to his wounds.

Logan strained his back to grip your legs, swinging you around so that your lower half hung over the bed.

"Can I take this off for you, baby?" He whispered, gathering the material of your dress by your hips.

"Mhm . . . " You nodded, hooking your knees over his shoulders for support. His palms firmly slid up your thighs and effortlessly shimmied the dress below your ass, pausing when the hem caught on the underside of your breasts.

He purposefully pressed the material harder against your torso before exposing your tits, forcing them to bounce harshly against your chest.

"You're so pretty," he sighed, cupping your breasts and leaning forward to gently tug on your nipples with his teeth. You bit your lip, knitting your eyebrows together as you admired how content he looked.

Logan's cock twitched in his slacks when your breath hitched in your throat after a particularly hard tug.

"You like when I make your tits sore, hm? Want me to make it all better?" He cooed, blowing lightly on your stiff nipples before enveloping them with his mouth.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head when you grabbed a fistful of his hair.

You crossed your arms, hastily moving your dress over your head. Logan paused, realizing that your shoes were still on. He slowly released your tits as he slinked down your body, his hot breath raising goosebumps along your stomach.

"Fuck," Logan moaned, now eye-level with your cunt. Your cotton underwear was soaked, clinging to the outline of your lips.

It was the simplest pair you owned, but Logan marveled at it like it was the most expensive set in the world.

He pushed closer, resting his chin on the edge of the bed. He arched his back slightly to accommodate the stretch.

"Can I taste you, baby?" He pleaded, staring at your dilated pupils.

"'Course you can, Logan . . . You can do anything to me, I-" He flattened his tongue and dragged it over your underwear, tasting the wetness that escaped the material.

The delicious pressure of his tongue cut off your response. "I trust you," you continued.

You whined when Logan distanced himself from your core to unbuckle your shoes.

"Shhh, let your old man make you more comfortable," he doted, placing a sweet kiss on your heel.

He resumed a kneeling position, sliding his hands under your thighs and bringing your clothed cunt closer to his hungry gaze. The intoxicating musk of your arousal unlocked a primal instinct within Logan.

A primal groan ripped from his throat as his claws unsheathed on either side of your face. His cock bucked into the unforgiving material of his pants.

After realizing what he'd done, Logan quickly withdrew his claws. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, doll, I could've hurt you . . . won't happen again," he apologized profusely.

You propped your elbows on the bed to get a better look at the bloody slits between his knuckles. "Oh my god," you gasped, eyes widening in fascination. "Are you a mutant?"

Logan's eyes slowly met yours, initially afraid to be met with a fearful expression. "Yes, I am. I've always had these claws, but they weren't always this-" Logan flexed his arm, a faint snikt sound filling the air. "-sharp," he continued.

Logan held his breath as you slowly ran a finger along the blunt side of the blade, admiring the way it reflected the moonlight.

"They're beautiful, Logan." You carefully guided his right hand to rest on your thigh. "Can you tear this off?" You asked, lightly snapping the underwear elastic against your hip.

"I don't want to hurt you, doll." Logan's claws hesitantly hovered over your skin.

"I trust you, remember?" You pulled the elastic away from your body, allowing him to lightly twist his wrist and cut through the fabric.

You gasped as your underwear scattered on the bed. Your cunt fluttered around nothing, suddenly exposed to the cool night air and Logan's unwavering gaze.

Your empathy startled him. Those who had gifted him their trust had often suffered, cursing him to an eternity of self-loathing. He felt undeserving of your kindness.

"Wanna make it up to you," he promised, moving your legs onto his shoulders.

The tantalizingly slow drag of his tongue against your folds made your thighs quiver against his head. He chuckled, prying your legs apart with his callused palms.

He gently lapped into your eager hole, moving his head up and down to increase his range of movement.

You mewled when the tip of his nose bumped against your clit.

"Oh, fuck. My girl's rosebud is so sensitive . . . " He groaned, lightly kissing your clit before sucking it into his eager mouth.

His right hand inched up your thigh, teasingly stroking the apex of your leg.

"How many fingers can you take, doll?" He slowly slid his middle finger inside, palm flushed against your sensitive folds. His lips were still stimulating your clit, now adding the delicious drag of his finger.

Your hips raised off the bed, eagerly meeting his thrusts. "Ah!" You whimpered after Logan pulled out before adding a second finger. He spread his digits, satisfying the hollow throb in your core.

"Three . . . I need three," you elaborated, biting your lip to stifle your needy moans.

His fingers slipped out of your cunt with an embarrassingly loud squelch before easing into your pliant mouth.

"Wanna hear you, baby. That's it," he cooed, making you enjoy the taste of your own slick.

Your tongue trailed the crook of his fingers, mimicking the patterns you traced on his cock last night.

You whimpered when Logan used your saliva to guide three fingers into your weeping pussy.

"Holy fuck, Logan . . . Mm," you babbled, eyes glazing over at the overwhelming feeling of his thick fingers stretching your walls.

If you could sit upright, you'd wipe that cocky grin off his face.

"You're so fuckin' wet for me, doll. Takin' me so well," he praised, focused on increasing the rhythm of his thrusts.

"Oh, I know you want my thick cock, baby . . . Is that why you chose three, hm?" Logan taunted, abruptly pausing his movements.

You whine, spreading your legs even farther apart to invite him back in.

"Yes, fuck-" you admitted, eyes screwing shut at the feeling of fingers returning home.

You felt Logan smirk into your clit as he confessed, "You think you can come without my cock? Tonight's all about you, doll."

The growing pressure in your abdomen threatened to burst, spurred on by Logan's filthy words. He enthusiastically lapped at your cunt, collecting the wetness that pooled near the base of his fingers and gliding up your folds before licking your clit.

He lightly slapped your pearl, motivated to usher in your release as you clamped your knees around his head.

"Holy shit, doll . . . your pussy's singing just for me, hm?" He hummed, referencing the vulgar sounds emanating from your folds with every thrust.

He expertly twisted his wrist as his fingers glided through your cunt. The new movement stimulated the sensitive nerves of your walls, earning a guttural moan.

"Oh my god, I'm . . . I'm coming," you whined, throwing your head back against the mattress.

Logan intertwined his left hand with yours, silently permitting you to squeeze it through your orgasm.

Your back arched, overstimulated by Logan's relentless attention to your pussy. You were too busy rocking your hips against his mouth to register him burrowing his cock into the sheets, a ragged growl escaping his lips as he spurted into his slacks.

"It's too- fuck, too much, Logan . . . " You stuttered, pawing at his forehead to distance yourself from his tongue.

You raised yourself on your elbows just in time to witness him savoring the taste of your cum, his tongue darting against the sensitive pads of his fingers and swallowing with a content moan.

"Mhm . . ." He drawled. "Sweeter than sugar, baby."

You covered your eyes and slumped against the mattress. Logan made you feel hopelessly giddy, and you loved it.

"Stop it, Logan . . . " You cringed, aware of the rosy blush that adorned your cheeks.

He scooped your knees with his right hand and supported your back with his left, mirroring the stance he assumed when he first laid you on the bed. You nuzzled your cheek against the soft pillow, thoroughly satisfied and exhausted.

The small twin-sized bed couldn't support the full breadth of his back, so he turned on his side, lovingly bumping his nose against yours.

You lazily stroked his graying beard, noticing that the whiskers closest to his mouth were damp with your arousal.

You blushed. Again.

"I usually don't even let guys kiss me on the first date. You should be grateful," You teased.

Logan lightly kissed your wandering fingers. "Trust me, princess, I am. Thank you.

Princess . . . that was new. You draped your left leg over the strong muscle of his thigh, suddenly needing to be consumed by his warmth.

He just coaxed an explosive orgasm from you using his mouth, and he was thanking you?

Words failed you. You decided to snuggle closer into the inviting expanse of his bare chest. Logan shamelessly gripped the supple flesh of your ass, pulling you flush against his body.

"I think our first date went well, hm?" He cooed into your ear. Your breathing slowed to the point where Logan assumed you had dozed off.

You felt his body still to avoid waking you up. He whispered, "I hope we get to go on a million more."

Your ears perked up at his covert promise of devotion.

I hope so, too, you thought before finally falling asleep.

Thanks for sticking around for Ch. 2 of Meet-Cute!

an: Their banter was so fun to write. Also if you don't go to shows (I'm talkin' small clubs, not stadiums) or make art shhhh wdym, you're literally reader?! Anyway, I specified those hobbies because everyone can do them, yay! The FBI-level questioning that usually occurs on first dates was shortened to keep this a true reader insert (my reasoning for reader's vague background.) *The jukebox bit is canon, from Wolverine Vol. 1 (Benjamin Percy.)

tag list: @th3mrskory @fairiebabey @bratscave @elflutter

1K notes · View notes