Archiving Old Man Logan Smut . . . Preserving A Rare Species Is Important Work
Archiving old man logan smut . . . preserving a rare species is important work

౨ৎ ⊹˚⋆ currently thinking about . . . . how it’s probably been a while since old man logan has gotten his dick wet; already too preoccupied with his demanding job alongside looking after his longtime friend.
only finding time during the darkest hour of dusk to unleash his pent up stress by harshly tugging at his leaking cock, stroking up and down with vigor. hastily twisting his hand to stimulate the long vein that runs along his shaft.
his nights alone came to an abrupt end once you waltz your way into his isolating life. he can’t wrap his head around how you did it, from offhanded greetings in the parking lot to having small talk in the produce section of the grocery store. you gleefully carried the conversation of course, while his responses were limited to hums and nods of his head.
he wonders what about him appealed to you and how your conveniently timed run ins with him would result in you on your knees before him eagerly planting wet kisses to his tip.
you must be a mutant or a siren of some sort because the way you looked at him through your fluttering lashes, bright tender eyes sweetly scanning his reactions almost has him ready to bust his load on your face.
rather than succumbing to your spell, he grips anything in his reach to keep his composure: the bedsheets, his button down shirt, his scruffy beard, your hair….
then you finally take him in your mouth. your jaw slacks and has a noticeable ache to it while logan sharply hisses through his teeth before loudly grunting as his head slightly tilts back.
“shit, princess,” he mutters. the mere nickname elicits a faint throb in between your legs, your panties already collecting with slick.
your mouth is so warm, a cavern made exclusively for him. his chest heaves and his hips stutter causing him to accidentally buck into your mouth farther than intended, before an apology escapes his lips your tounge delicately swipes over the sensitive vein closest to his cockhead and you swear a muffled whimper could be heard from him.
his glasses begins to fog up a bit as his quick hip stutters turn into full blown thrusts “that’s it, you can take it,” he praises.
his words makes your heart skip a beat, letting him take over and fuck your throat; this is exactly what he needed, no, you’re exactly what he needed.

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3
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More Posts from Mistyorchid
Unrequited



Logan Howlett x mutant fem!reader
Summary: Your deep-seated fear of rejection is the only barrier preventing you from kissing the smug grin off of Logan's face. Thankfully, Logan can smell how much you want him. *reader's power is optimism, which Logan loves distrusts. Warnings: MDNI. porn with plot, no use of y/n, implied age gap, reader is 21+, masturbation (fem!), scent kink, oral (fem! receiving), voyeurism, size difference, pussy worship, praise kink, pet names (sunshine, bub, doll, good girl), mention of unprotected p in v, using Logan's hair as handlebars. wc: 3.2k

Your world used to revolve around men. Now, your life revolves around the duty of saving it. If yearning for boys who never liked you back was an Olympic sport, you'd definitely win gold.
Everyone was in a good mood, having just returned from a government-sanctioned mission. The world needs the X-Men. You belonged to a community that respected your unique abilities. Powers aside, you were still a young woman yearning for romance. You forgot how it felt to be embarrassingly invested in a one-sided crush until you met Logan.

Your first mission seemed simple enough: act like Logan's arm candy for the night to investigate New York's elusive anti-mutant club. Memorize the names of club members, hide a mic in the manager's coat. In and out.
Unfortunately, Logan was more focused on how high the cut of your dress was. The unforgiving pink latex material suffocated your soft body and exaggerated the protruding curves of your breasts. As Charles described it, you needed to look like a liberated woman. The manager had a soft spot for confidence, and Charles explained that power attracts power.
Logan wished his hard cock was liberated from the uncomfortable friction caused by his slacks. That night, he learned that beauty truly is pain.
He watched as you glided around the room, earning lustful stares from the human members. Logan was ordered to blend into the crowd and allow you to complete the mission. His usual stoic demeanor was replaced with a charged, jealous glare.
"You're compromising the mission, Logan. I thought I taught you better," Charles tutted. His bald mentor checked in on their progress using cerebro's telepathic power.
Logan swatted his forehead, momentarily disoriented at the intrusion of Charles.
"Not my fault you put miss goody two-shoes in that god-awful dress," he snarled. "She's out of her element, and you know it."
"Her powers are extremely useful in this situation," Charles sighed. "You may not trust her, but her bubbly personality is the key to securing the club's trust. Just let her work . . . alone."
When the pressure in his head subsided, Logan knew that Charles no longer supervised the unholy thoughts bouncing against the adamantium confines of his brain.
He drifted to the bar and sat down, positioning the stool so he could maintain visual of your progress. Your kind eyes crinkled as you laughed and playfully swatted the manager's bicep. He painfully recalled the moment you revealed your powers to the group.

A month earlier, the X-Men gathered in the danger room to discuss how to approach the mission.
"The manager is emotionally vulnerable at this time. Surrounded by humans whose lives revolve around hate and mutant discrimination." Charles rubbed his temple to alleviate his anger.
"What is the opposite of hate?" Charles asked, turning his colleagues into students once again.
Logan rolled his eyes. "Please tell me it's not love, for Christ sakes."
"Optimism. The enemy of hate is hopefulness. Now, everyone, please give a warm welcome to our newest recruit." Charles gestured to a woman who was the physical embodiment of those girly 90s rom-coms Logan secretly enjoyed.
Her smile reached her eyes, symbolizing genuine happiness. She sported a vintage Talking Heads tee with an image of a lopsided smiley face. Logan's eyes drifted to the tiniest shorts he's ever seen, stopping just under the swell of your ass. Its whimsical star pattern complimented your sparkling teeth.
"Hey, guys. I'm so grateful to be here!" You cheered. Logan could tell you caught him staring by the sudden change in your demeanor.
Rubbing the back of your neck, you timidly explained, "Sorry about the get-up. My uniform's not ready yet."
Logan watched as you surveyed the room, eyes silently acknowledging Jean, Ororo, Scott, and Beast.
You confidently returned Logan's gaze with a dismissive scoff.
Logan found himself inexplicably drawn to your cheeriness. Usually, he distrusted kindness. It was a quality that was manipulated to deceive him countless times throughout the arduous decades of life he had unwillingly lived through.
Your benevolence seemed organic, almost innate.
You continued, "My power is optimism. In addition to what Charles explained, I can extract positive values from anyone and replace their malicious thoughts and intentions. Basically, I'll help the manager override his hatred of mutants. Hate is taught . . . I'll teach him a different lesson. One of hope, equality, and human-mutant coexistence."
Logan felt a blush brewing behind his rugged cheeks. Your eloquent explanation exuded more wisdom than he expected from a "sunshine and rainbows" type of girl. You matched his trademark cynicism with a grounded perspective of reality, but still saw the good in others.
Before Logan chose to introduce himself, Scott raised an eyebrow, silently teasing him for blushing at your words. Logan wouldn't give him the satisfaction of being right about his budding interest in the new recruit.
He mockingly countered, "That's great, a 'glass half-full' mutant has never gotten us killed before. What's your code name, Cheshire Cat? Twinkle Toes?"
Scott caught Logan's eyes and mouthed, "Nice," with a sly smirk.
You wouldn't let him bask in the reflection of tears falling down your cheeks.
Logan cursed himself as you turned to face everyone but him. "I don't have a code name. I've got nothing to hide," you coolly responded.

Your face contorted with pain as you recalled your first interaction with Logan. After you'd successfully earned the trust of the anti-mutant club manager, however, he followed you around like a lost puppy.
Everyone was confused. This behavior was extremely irregular for a man who struggled with trusting long-term friends, let alone a woman he'd only known for a month.
He was addicted to the sweet aura of unbridled positivity that radiated from you. A tale old as time, darkness intertwining with light.
The jealousy he felt during your first mission played a significant factor in his romantic interest. It took all of his restraint (and Charles' disapproving words) not to slash the throats of every man who lusted over your latex-clad form.
You remembered Logan sitting at the bar, clearly uninterested in the mission at hand. Uninterested in you.
Clearly, communication was a skill you both needed to hone.
"Nice work, sunshine." Logan clapped a hand against your shoulder, congratulating you on another successful mission.
He was genuinely proud of you. You were awarded a medal of honor by the president for using positive forces to bridge the gap between mutants and humans.
Picking up your pace, you whipped your head around to acknowledge Logan. "Thanks. You know how much I hate that nickname, right?"
As the rest of the crew filed inside the mansion, excitedly discussing how to wind down after a job well done, Logan used his leverage on your shoulder to spin you around.
"I'm sorry, bub. Love to see how red your face gets." A smug grin was plastered over his stupid, annoying, handsome face.
You paused at the mansion's entrance. "Whatever, Logan. I'm not in the mood for your belittlement."

Slipping past the kinetic hallways of mutant students, you swung open the door to your room and started to undress, hoping to destress after a long day. You shrugged off your new uniform and slipped on your favorite Talking Heads tee, not bothering to wear shorts.
"God, so annoying." You sighed, crashing face-down into the bed. You replayed the interaction with Logan, hurt etching its way into your heart.
I won't let him get to me. He makes me feel like a fuckin' teenager!
"Nice work, sunshine," you mocked in a gruff voice.
Logan doubted your abilities, ignored you on your first mission, and patronized you with nicknames. It wasn't fun being the butt of a joke at the hands of someone you secretly admired. You wondered if his recent interest in you was malicious or sincere.
Despite the telltale signs, you seriously doubted that Logan was romantically interested in you.
Never chosen, always on the prowl for scraps of affection. Never again. Your kindness had been taken advantage of before. You quickly learned that the only person who truly loved you was yourself.
Sunshine. The crinkle of his eyes, those stupid tufts of hair that make him look like a cat.
Your hands slowly slipped under the hem of your shirt, inching towards your breasts.
He was staring at my ass when I met him. Wasn't he?
Your right hand softly tweaked your sensitive nipples. Sighing, you allowed yourself to toy with the thin band of your underwear before circling your clit.
Soft moans quickly grew into labored huffs of desperation. Lost in the gratifying haze of your pleasure, you forgot an important detail about your new living arrangement.

Logan couldn't believe the sounds he was hearing.
It's as if God himself probed his mind and decided to fulfill his deepest desires.
A beautiful arrangement of moans and sighs traveled through the hollow wood wall that separated your rooms. To confirm that he wasn't hallucinating, Logan tentatively pressed his ear against the wall.
"Oh, fuck," he heard you whine in a hushed voice.
He could hear the spontaneous hitch of your breath. "Ah! Logan . . . fuuuuck."
His body reacted to the utterance of his name, unconsciously unsheathing his claws.
It took him five seconds to bridge the distance between his front door and yours.

An abrupt knock on your door forced you to pause the act of self-love you were so invested in.
"Hello? Who is it?"
Logan smirked before answering, "It's me. You okay in there? Sounds like you're having a hard time breathin, bub."
That cocky motherfucker. You slapped a hand against your mouth to muffle your surprise. He probably heard everything, you thought, moving to open the door.
"Logan! I- I'm so sorry." You started playing with the loose strands of hair framing your face. He was leaning on the door frame, his large body teasingly blocking the entrance.
His eyes flitted to your hand, noting the nervous tick. As the scent of your hair wafted into his perceptive nostrils, his pupils dilated. He noticed the unmistakable smell of your arousal.
"No need to apologize, sunshine. Just wanted to make sure you were okay." Logan tried to ignore the enticing scent emanating from your body. His eyes searched the room for a point to fixate on. Anything but your pouty lips.
He registered bare legs. The adorable way you were standing, your right leg shifted over the left to distribute your weight. Any decorum he had vanished when his eyes landed on the girly panties you were wearing.
You inched closer to his broad frame, looking up into his downcast eyes. They were still trained on your lower half.
Sunshine. The heavy weight of his gaze. Familiar hallmarks of past interactions. Except this time, he was gawking at your panties instead of those cosmic booty shorts.
"I can smell you. Can't be that unbearable to be around, hm?" Logan teased, finally making eye contact.
"No, you're still an asshole. I'm done playing hot and cold with you." Your clothed tits grazed his taut stomach.
"You want this? Because if not, I'll take it like a man and leave." Logan asked, searching your face for any signs of hesitation.
You averted your eyes. "Do you want me?"
He understood why your response was laced with insecurity. His previous actions had placed a seed of doubt in your mind. Logan gently raised your chin, tilting your eyes into his. "Of course I do, doll. I might be a stubborn asshole, but I'm not too stubborn to admit that I want you. Always have, since I first met ya."
Shock flooded your features. A charged silence lingered in the air.
You caught Logan staring at your lips.
"Just kiss me, you big oaf." You brazenly commanded.
The arm that leaned against the door frame descended to the small of your back, pulling you close to his chest.
Logan closed the gap, not wanting to give you any reason to doubt his feelings for you.
It started sweet and timid, an innocent collage of bumping noses and delicate gasps. When you pulled apart for air, a thin string of spit connected your bottom lips.
You decided you needed his lips on yours in a drastically different way.
"Since you're here, think you can help a girl out?" You pushed yourself away from Logan, palms extended to his chest. You sat on the edge of your bed, slowly spreading your legs.
Logan choked on his words. "I, uh . . . I'd love to." Once in front of you, he kneeled down on his knees.
The playful contrast between your vintage Talking Heads tee and the lacey pink panties that covered your most intimate area made him dizzy.
The frilly nature of it was enough to make him crazy, but they just had to have a cute little bow at the top.
Logan ground himself into his jeans, its denim fabric the only layer separating his cock from the air.
"You sure about this, doll?" he asked, reluctantly drawing his eyes away from your cunt to analyze yours.
You tentatively weaved your fingers through his hair, paying special attention to the tufts. When he leaned into your touch, you knew that the admission of his affection was genuine.
Your hands ghosted over his, pulling them to land on the wide expanse of your thighs.
"I need you, Logan. I want this. Want you."
That was all Logan needed to hear before he hooked four fingers around the elastic of your panties, slowly moving them off of your legs.
You shivered when the room's cool air met your bare cunt.
Logan hooked his strong arms under your knees, pulling you to the edge of the bed with ease. "Much better, doll. Wanna be close to her," he drawled, resting your legs over his shoulders.
His mouth hovered over you, fanning warm breaths that made you throb with anticipation.
Logan's lips ghosted over where the bow on your panties was and descended where you needed him most.
He gently kissed your clit, earning a soft gasp.
"Yeah, you like that, baby?" You whined a high-pitched "Mhm . . ."
Logan suddenly licked a broad stripe from your hole to your clit, collecting your wetness on the tip of his tongue.
"Need your words, bub. Wanna hear you."
He pulled away momentarily, massaging the sensitive flesh of your thighs. "Oh my god. Yes, I love it . . . please don't stop," you whined.
"That's a good-" Logan paused to pool the release still on his tongue and let gravity drip it onto your folds. "-girl. Fuck."
You sucked in a harsh breath through gritted teeth. He stared at your cunt fluttering open and closed in response to the contact, aching to be filled.
He would tend to that later. Right now, he wanted to make you feel loved, cared for.
"You taste so fuckin' sweet, doll." Logan cooed, tracing the sensitive outline of your hole before sinking two of his thick fingers into your warmth.
Your hands found purchase in his hair, gasping at the sight of him stretching your walls. He slowly thrust his fingers in and out, steadily building the tension in your body.
"Yeah, hold onto me . . . guide me where you need me." The soft squelch of your wetness made him groan into your pussy.
"Fuck . . . you sound so beautiful, baby." Logan praised, his lips pressing a tender kiss to your clit once again.
He alternated between languidly enveloping your folds with his mouth and licking urgently at your sensitive bud.
"Ah! I- I'm close, Logan." You mewled, hips suddenly rising off the bed. The spontaneous action made your clit catch on the ridge of his strong nose.
You locked his head in between your legs, thighs abruptly closing due to the contact.
"You like that, hm?" he teased. You nodded rapidly, capturing your bottom lip in an attempt to subdue the embarrassing whines Logan was drawing out from you.
Once your thighs rested back on the bed, Logan pulled your legs even closer. You couldn't believe your eyes.
He started making out with your pussy.
Logan's mouth opened and closed again and again, latching onto your swollen lips. His pursed lips glistened with your release.
He actually sighed into your body when a particularly noisy kiss made you clench around his fingers.
"That's my good girl. So responsive . . . can you come for me, baby? Wanna taste you."
He curled his fingers, coaxing the spongy pad of your cervix on every thrust. His palm met your pussy with a steady plap, burying his fingers into your crying cunt.
Your legs started shaking. Unable to stave off your release, your thighs fluttered around Logan's head.
"Oh, fuck, Logan . . ." you moaned, sharply tugging his hair while falling backward onto the bed. You couldn't bring yourself to watch his sly grin as you came undone around him.
"Yes . . . ohmygodohmygod, ah!" You incoherently babbled.
Logan playfully slapped your puffy folds, stimulating you through your orgasm.
"Aw, would 'ya look at that . . . your pussy's blushing just for me, doll." He pressed another kiss to your pulsing clit, smirking into your skin.
He slowly removed your legs from his shoulders and caged your body under his, arms outstretched so as not to crush you.
Logan traced the plush outline of your bottom lip, teasing, "Speechless, huh? Guess I'm not that big of an asshole."
Your pupils dilated as you caressed the rugged expanse of his cheek. You hummed a soft, "Mhm . . ." in response, too fucked out to mumble something more comprehensible.
"Figured you deserved to feel good after what I put you through." Logan averted his eyes. He felt guilty, opening his mouth to apologize, but you silenced him with a sloppy kiss.
You tapped his right arm, silently asking him to lay down on the bed next to you. He moved to cuddle you, but you turned around and straddled his pelvis.
Grinding over his clothed bulge, you teased, "No need to apologize, Logan." Your release was creating a noticeable wet spot on the faded denim.
His hips bucked up to meet your tantalizing movements. His back arched at the thought of his bare cock finally feeling the plush embrace of your cunt.
"Let me make it up to you . . . you deserve to feel good, too."
Logan's hands rested on your torso, stilling your hips.
"If you keep moving like that, I won't get to come inside of you. You want me to fill you up? Hm?"
You mischievously dragged your cunt over the fly of his jeans, clit catching on the button.
"Who said you couldn't come in me more than once?"
Logan wrapped his arms behind the small of your back, pulling you to crash against his broad chest. His lips found your ear.
He whispered, "You fuckin' tease. Be careful what you wish for, bub. I have regenerative powers, remember? Could fuck you for hours, if you let me."
You suddenly nipped at his earlobe. "Oh, yeah? prove it. I'm not so sure, old man."
Logan propped up your chin, caressing the supple skin of your cheeks. Eyes darting between your doe eyes and pouty lips, he responded, "If I didn't heal so fast, you'd be the death of me."
You sealed his promise with a sweet kiss. The only lack of communication in your blossoming relationship would occur during intimate moments like these, lips slotted into the other's, ethereal sighs mingling with his intoxicating groans.

Whew! I spent a lot of time refining this one. I'm slowly working on improving the pacing and atmosphere of my work. Thank you for reading! Reblogs are extremely appreciated :)
this groovy mf







HUGH JACKMAN X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014)
I'm cooking up another old man logan fic 💅 hesitant stripper reader muahaha

logan 2017 is wolverines best look idc i said it.
forever rooting for sensitive girls!!!!!! you have big hearts and a poet’s soul i love you