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[therealjerma985]

Why do all the old man Logan x reader fics involve us being early 20s I JUST WANT TO BE A HOT OLDER WOMAN PLEASE????

[therealjerma985]

Perfect Girl

Authors note: HI umm I’m sorta kinda terrified to post this but I’m in such a Logan/Hugh mood that I’m putting myself out there :3 feedback is greatly appreciated!! Also I still don’t really know how to use tumblr tbh so any tips with that is also greatly appreciated

(GIF from Pinterest)

Summary: Dick sucking. That’s it.

Warnings: SMUT. First time ever posting any writing I’ve ever done and like second time writing smut ever please don’t burn me at the stake, that good ol’ hawk tuah !!!!!!! (oral M! receiving), praise kink, afab reader and use of ‘girl’ by Logan, allusions to face-sitting, scent kink, a bit OOC for Logan mayhaps, I feel like I’m forgetting something else, blehhhhggghhhhghhghhhh

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Logan was never a man of good fortune.

In fact, he’s pretty sure he’s one of the most unlucky bastards on the planet. At least, that’s what he usually tells himself.

The way your throat constricts around his cock betrays those thoughts right away. He watches you take as much as you can, breathing harshly through your nose, you look up at him as though he hung the moon and the stars in the sky himself.

God, he can’t get enough of you.

Babbling of praise and clipped groans are all that can leave his lips as you swirl your tongue around his tip, leaking copious amounts of pre-cum.

“My girl…taking me—fuck— so well. Want your pretty pussy to soak those fingers…then you’re gonna let me have a taste, huh? Gonna come down your throat, baby.” It takes him what feels like hours just to get those words out, but you react immediately nonetheless.

Logan’s heightened sense of smell was one of the things he considered unlucky about himself. Being surrounded by pubescent teenagers for most of the day was a nightmare, strong perfume and cologne from the adults assaulting his nose. Another thing that’s been proven entirely incorrect as he can smell it.

Smell you.

How dripping wet you are just from taking him, tasting him. Even before you started relieving the pressure you felt too. The familiar, sweet, enveloping scent of you. He can see it, how your hand bulges from under your panties, making furious motions.

He feels his eyes roll back, and he swears he sees his own brain for a second as you trace the prominent vein going up his cock with your tongue.

It was an early morning, beyond any reason for anyone in the mansion to be awake, and yet here Logan was. Insomnia was always a problem for him, the whiskey usually dampened it, and your pussy put him straight to sleep.

Unfortunately, you were away on a mission for a week.

You hit the shared bed hard, practically passing out as soon as you got back and finished a quick shower. Logan found it almost endearing, you looked so peaceful when you slept. A mess, but a peaceful mess. He brushes back a stray lock of hair from your face as you snore lightly, and he can’t help but give a soft, lopsided smile. When the hell did his luck start changing?

He decides not to dwell on it.

Lying in bed with you, he keeps an arm anchored around your waist, and with the metal weight, it was pretty much impossible to escape his cuddling. He nuzzles his face into your neck, practically like a lost puppy, and breathes out a sigh against your skin. He had missed you something awful.

The tickle of his breath makes you stir, mumbling a quiet ‘Logan?’ as you do your best to turn around in his arms, looking up at him. “You okay?” Your voice is heavy with sleep and he begins to feel terrible for accidentally waking you. “‘M fine, sweetheart. Go back to sleep.”

You did not go back to sleep.

Logan keeps a shockingly tender grip in your hair as you take him again, not forcing you down, but guiding you. He could be gentle when he wanted to be. He admires you through his falling apart, taking in your fucked out expression and how you lurch forward occasionally as you finger yourself. When you moan around him, he nearly full-body shudders at the vibrations. “Gonna come,” He begins, what he says next even takes him by surprise.

“Please. Lemme come down your throat. Please, baby. Need it.”

You falter for a second.

Logan was also never one to beg.

As quickly as you pause, you’re resuming and doubling your efforts, the begging giving you a strange sense of confidence.

Could smell himself on you, too. Logan liked it that way, you threw on one of his shirts after your shower, not even bothering to put on pants. Logan loved that.

His thread of restraint snaps when you fully sink down, looking up at him with those big, watery eyes. He lets out a groan—growing dangerously close to a whine—as he comes.

Down your throat like he said he would. Never breaks his promises.

That sets you off too, jaw going even further slack as you spasm on your fingers, a fierce orgasm washing over you. Logan feels like he could come twice over just watching the pleasure overtake you. He wants to see it for the rest of his life.

You both are slow to come back to earth but eventually you pull back, swallowing and standing, albeit in a rather wobbly way. Logan feels his arms shoot out before he even registers it, wrapping around your waist and pulling you forward to straddle his lap.

“So perfect.” He’s mumbling, not even to see that reaction you have when he praises you, but in genuine awe. Logan finds himself marveling at you, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip, where some of his cum leaked out. He pushes past your lips slowly, and you swirl your tongue around his thumb just like you did his tip. He's determined for you to have every last drop.

With feather-light motions, he brushes a lock of hair from your face, just like when you were sleeping.

“So…about that ‘please’ thing-“ you begin, and he groans. He’s not going to live this down for the next week.

“I liked it.” You shrug, chuckling at his grumbles, wrapping your arms around his neck and looking down at him with a small smile.

“…I’ll keep that in mind.” He huffs with what could possibly be considered a laugh before falling back against the bed, taking you down with him.

He can’t help but smile as he looks up at you, tapping your thighs and urging them to shift up and cage his face. “Still gotta clean you up.”

You just mirror his smile.

His perfect girl.

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Ya that’s it 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️