Born222late - Priscilla ♡₊˚⊹

i think that some of you guys really do forget that fanfic writing is subjective to the user. 'logan wouldnt date fat girls—' what, did the fictional man crawl through the fucking screen and tell you that himself? did you have a prophetic vision? are you now the messiah of logan fics? i don't care what the hell he did in canon or what he called fred, let the bigger girls have something. not to mention that self indulgent fanfic writing or selfshipping or whatever-you-wanna-call-it is exactly what it is... self indulgent.

itd be different if it was something morally grey or inherently wrong but we're talking about... a body type here. even if this man looked directly at the camera in a movie and went 'i don't date fat women or plus sized women' it still wouldnt matter if people wanted to write logan x plussized!reader. do you know why? because he is fictional. you all need to live your truth and stop letting theoretical lines hold you back

motel six

cw age gap, smut { overstimulation, unprotected p in v, riding, rough, drunken sex, creampie }

pair old man!logan howlett + younger!reader

sum after meeting logan at a bar, he takes you back to a motel and goes harder than you think you can handle.

a/n first post for kinktober.. some other works have been postponed for this month, but expect uploads according to my schedule xx

the smell of whiskey stung you as you entered the bar; varied customers drank for a reason, but you felt empty and just really needed a drink. a relationship with your best friend went sour after you discovered she spoke lowly of you behind your back. she was one of the first people you met since moving into town for college, so you didn't think it was even possible she could do something so.. bitchy.

coming to your senses once getting to the front of the bar, you spotted a man not far on a stool. his brows furrowed in a way that suggested frustration and his glasses, thin readers specifically, told you that that frustration came from concentration. you peered down to his hands and saw a cold, wet beer glass that was near empty. next to it was a finished glass of what you guessed to be whiskey.

with his worn tux shifting as he started to get up, you neared him. "leaving a good drink so early?" he raised a sharp brow and looked back at the cheap beer and short, foggy glass.

his brown eyes fixed back on you, "if you can call it good, yeah." you smirk and huff before ordering.

"just two whiskeys, please," your request catches the older man's ear, causing him to turn back and question it.

"you gonna handle two by yourself?" he presumed you were just now able to drink and taking advantage of your legal id. you took both drinks in your hands and didn't hesitate to start sipping on one. "don't have anyone to enjoy them with.."

the slight movement in your eyes tore his confidence down as he towered over you, but the free drink in your hand called him. he wasn't much of an alcoholic, except when he was. when he sat with you, he learned your name, why you bothered the shitty bar, etc. his job as a chauffeur helped him get by; bachelor and bachelorette parties, mostly. he's seen his fair share of craziness; you were on your third round of drinks when logan slowed down, wanting to savor the conversation and the sight of you.

before you knew it, your shoes felt uncomfortable and kicking them off in his motel room was what you needed. he shuffled off his blazer and watched as you undressed, "this what a couple of drinks does to you, hm?"

you shook your head and backed him into the leather comforter in the corner of the room. he huffed and laid back, watching as you strutted towards him in lacy black underwear, topless and exposed. he'd been in this position before, nobody he cared to know, though. you weren't different in his eyes, but he'd treat you like such for your experience. you'd end up leaving in the morning and forgetting the name you moaned over and over again.

"fuck, logan-" you yelped as he pulled you onto his lap and unbuttoned his shirt. his fingers snaked down to slide your lacy fabric over. you helped the thin clothing off of him and grinded down on his rough jeans, feeling the friction warm your pussy before he could really touch you. he was eager to rid his thick thighs of his { now wet } jeans. the air conditioning hummed and cooled the room as he heated you up; logan's cock throbbed against your clit before he slowly slid into you, not moving until your fit of moans hushed.

his thrusts began easy and when he picked up the pace, it was at your request. you rode him, holding onto his shoulders and raking your fingers slowly up to the bottom tufts of his dark hair. it took all of your energy to bounce on him, the back of your thighs smacking the top of his.

you felt his large hand reach for your lower back and he gently ran it over your ass, smacking in his favor. they made you yelp and flinch up to a position where he felt more of you. "oh, god! right there, fuck-" you cried out and sunk your nails into his skin; no need to apologize for the harsh action after hearing his grunt of pleasure. you felt a wave wash over you as you came around him and slowed until he was finished.

logan's movements quickened, blinding you from the fact that he already came inside you. he lifted you and kept your pussy around his dick as he moved to the near bed and laid you down. he didn't stop; his thrusts seemed now like an unexcused punishment.

"logan, please- i already-" you lips eluded a whine, but your arms still held him close, appreciating temporary scars you gave him. "you're fine, baby, c'mon," he groaned, "ya feel that, hm?"

the mutant grunted into your ear, his dog tags hanging and hitting your lips with each movement. "what? my baby need it rougher?" he teased, snapping his hips up aggressively.

you held his veiny arm and pushed against it, feeling your orgasm near. your stomach grew tight as you clenched around him and logan felt it. he hissed again; his stamina didn't quit, though. the feeling of another orgasm chased through your aching body.

"don't stop, pleaseeee," you dragged your words tiredly and felt yourself leak onto the bed, wet noises filling the motel room and logan's grunting lowering into soft moans as he filled you up. the tip of his nose met yours with a heavy huff.

dt @bulllsseye @earth2lua @ohgodimgoungtodie @khoatic-with-no-energy

#there's something so personal about the tag still on the glasses 🙂‍↕️

ੈ♡˳ grinding on old man logans thigh. 18+

logan takes great pleasure in watching you grind on his jeans, his thick thigh planted between your legs as you roll your hips on top. his glasses slide down the strong bridge of his nose, but he doesn't care, he's too preoccupied with the image of you coming undone before his very eyes to give a damn about that.

he runs his hands soothingly along your thighs, almost coaxing you to completion, squeezing your plump flesh every so often. sinking his old bones back into the sofa, he enjoys the show you're so graciously presenting to him, a show he's seen so many times before but will never grow tired of.

the friction is so good, the coarse material of the denim rubbing against your wet folds, sending sparks straight to your clit with every grind. your hands are planted on the base of his thigh, gripping, dangerously close to his thick, hardening cock. said he was too tired to give you what you wanted, but you both do this same dance every night. it starts with you on top of him, mewling like crazy and dripping like a faucet - in no time he's pumping his cum deep into you like his life depends on it.

but for now, he watches.

"feels so good, baby," you whisper, exhaling shakily as you try to keep at least some composure, "love it when you let me do this. . ."

he grumbles, a low grumbling at the back of his throat as he gives your thighs a tight squeeze, "can tell you're enjoying it," his eyes drift down to between your legs, "look how soaked you got me, darlin'."

and he's right, his jeans are damp, your wetness coating it so deeply it's become a darker shade of blue. logan can even feel it beneath the denim, you're soaking his skin so perfectly. he has to suppress a hungry growl at the sensation, how wet you are for him, how easily you become a mess for him, all pretty and drenched on his lap.

snaking a strong hand between your thighs, he gently pulls back your folds with his thumb, earning a whiny gasp from your lips. "hmm," his eyes drift across your glistening pussy, a deep stirring in his groin at the smell of how aroused you are, "would you look at that, such a messy girl, just for me. . ."

you nod, of course you are. how could you not be? especially with those words, those hands.

he looks up at you over his glasses, you have to resist cumming on the spot just from that look alone. there's a silence for a moment as you lock eyes with him, ". . .want me to take care of you?"

fuck.

you throb at the thought, aching for him to fill you - with his cock, even his fingers would do, anything. "please, please, fuck, logan please," you whine desperately, shifting faster on his lap against his jeans.

logan can't help but smirk, his hand on your thigh rising to cup your chin, pulling you down to his mouth, "since you're asking like a good girl, suppose i can give you what you want. . ." his salt and pepper beard brushes against your skin before he captures you in a deep, passionate and hungry kiss.

and then, a growl, an impatient command against your lips.

"get on the fucking bed."

-

logan promptober day 7 - denim

burying your face in his neck while you ride him on the couch. feeling his head turn and his lips glide a wet path over your jaw before he nips at it, breathing something about how good you’re making him feel — or maybe something with more of a teasing edge. getting tired? need me to do it for you? his hands cupping under your ass, getting a good handful before moving up to grip and guide your movements. maybe a light smack for encouragement. there you go, don’t stop now. ride that dick. you do it so well, baby. so well that i don’t think i can pull out.