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[k-archives]

.・✭ FANFIC MASTERLIST 13/11/24 ✭・.

⭐ personal favourites // 🔥 smut // 🐻 fluff // 💔 angst

ੈ♡˳ Wolverine

✩ worst wolverine ✦ ⭐🔥 'messy' (nsfw) - worst!logan x f!reader // logan learns that you can squirt, he indulges in that information (1.8k words) ✦ ⭐🔥 'hunger' (nsfw) - worst!logan x f!reader // logan can't tear his mind away from the new barmaid at his usual haunt. he tries to resist you, he really does. but when you're both alone in the bathroom, he finds he's not the only one plagued with filthy thoughts. (3.9k words)

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

✩ old man logan ✦ 🔥 'look at me' (nsfw) - oldman!logan x gn!reader // logan can't fuck like he used to, but you don't care. you get on top, gladly taking care of him in return (2k words) ✦ 🔥 'forever in blue jeans' (nsfw) - oldman!logan x f!reader // riding old man logans thigh while he wears jeans (500 words) ✦ ⭐🔥 'my man' (nsfw) - oldman!logan x gn!reader // he's irresistible in that work suit of his, so much so that you decide to treat him with it on. (1.3k) ✦ 🔥 'big bad wolf' (nsfw) - oldman!logan x f!reader // request: 'couples halloween costumes with old man logan who will begrudgingly dress up for his girl'. (400 words) ✦ ⭐🔥 'disobedience' (nsfw) - oldman!logan x f!reader // moodboard + drabble. (100 words) ✦ ⭐🐻 'domestic life' - oldman!logan x gn!reader // domestic life with logan headcanons (700 words) ✦ 💔 'the man in the mirror' - oldman!logan x gn!reader // comforting logan as he questions his identity (600 words) ✦ 🐻💔 'always' - oldman!logan x gn!reader // logan is struggling to look after himself, you trim his beard while he sleeps. (800 words)

.・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・. .・。.・゜✭・.

✩ general logan / aus / other ✦ 🔥 'nsfw alphabet headcanons' (nsfw) - logan x gn!reader // the word 'logan' for the nsfw alphabet (800 words) ✦ ⭐🔥 'dirty little secret' (nsfw) - logan x f!reader // logan finds that you've left him a little gift behind, and he just can't help himself. (1.2k) ✦ ⭐🔥 'baby fever' (nsfw) - logan x f!reader // after your first baby is born, logan realises he doesn't want to stop at just one. (4.4k) ✦ 🔥 'branded' (nsfw) - logan x gn!reader // wearing logans dog tags as you ride him (300 words) ✦ 🔥 'joyride' - (nsfw) logan x f!reader // logan fucks you on his (scotts) motorbike in the middle of the forest because you can't keep it down inside the mansion. (1.7k words) ✦ 🔥 'heavy metal lover' (nsfw) - logan x f!reader // imagine logan is in a metal band and he uses you before every gig in his dressing room (300 words) ✦ 🔥 'save a horse, ride a cowboy' (nsfw) - cowboy!logan x gn!reader // riding cowboy logan (370 words) ✦ 🔥 'life with lumberjack logan headcanons' (nsfw) - a collection of domestic headcanons for lumberjack logan (600 words) ✦ ⭐🔥 'bad idea, right?' (nsfw) - dofp!logan x f!reader // your father hired him to protect you, not to fuck you. but logan never really liked playing by the rules. (1.7k) ✦ 🔥 'strangers' (nsfw) - logan x f!reader // the stranger in the leather jacket at the bar wants you as much as you want him. (800 words) ✦ 🔥 'the animal in the cage' (nsfw) - logan x gn!reader // you return each week to watch the stranger in the cage, desire swirling in your mind. there's no way he'd ever look at you too. . . right? (830 words) ✦ 🔥 'hands' (nsfw) - logan x gn!reader // moodboard + drabble, taking his fingers in your mouth (60 words) ✦ 🐻 'sunflowers' - logan x gn!reader // moodboard + drabble, logan buys you sunflowers (100 words) ✦ 🐻💔 'im sorry' - logan x gn!reader // logan would never hurt you, but in his nightmares he's often not able to control his claws - he's hurt you, the one thing he never wanted to do. (1k) ✦ 🐻 'soft' - logan x gn!reader // imagine playing with logans hair (500 words) ✦ ⭐🐻 'snow day' - logan x gn!reader // logan hates the snow, hates that it reminds him of the past. but he soon finds that being with you gives it a whole new meaning. (1.1k) ✦ 🐻 'halloween' - logan x gn!reader // carving pumpkins with logan. (200 words) ✦ ⭐🐻 'that funny feeling' - logan x gn!reader // no matter how hard he tries, logan can't escape one simple fact. he's falling in love with you. (900 words) ✦ 🐻 'number one fan' - rockstar!logan x popstar!wade // rockstar logan meets popstar wade backstage. what could go wrong? (1.1k words)

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logan fic announcement— REDAMANCY 18+

(n.) the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full

summary. you often worry you can never keep up with logan's continuous acts of love and care, your attempts always seeming to come up short. logan catches on and shows you that there’s nothing for you to prove. about 4k words

hurt comfort (YEAAA) with smut. aiming for a wednesday upload. moodboard is the vibe ive aimed for. okay cool bye x

[k-archives]

REDAMANCY. 18+

pairing. logan howlett x fem!reader word count. 3915 summary. you often worry you can never keep up with your husband's continuous acts of love and care, your attempts always seeming to come up short. logan catches on and shows you that there’s nothing for you to prove. warnings. 18+ only!! reader has a moment of inadequacy at the beginning, logan being attentive<3 quick description of thigh riding but it's not proper, titty kissing, fingering, cum eating? (licks his fingers) pinv sex. angst start, fluff middle, smut ending. mdni a/n. #needthat

Feelings of inadequacy seem to follow you like a stray dog. The constant, repetitive thought that what you do or say or think or feel may never be enough. But it was silly really, to be afraid of the contents of your own mind, especially when you had no reason to feel that way.

You thought these feelings were controlled, contained even. But as you anxiously twist your wedding ring upon your left finger, you can’t help but slip into that prior mindset you believed to be packed away. You beside the stove, mindlessly watching the simmering pot of tonight's dinner, staring at the vegetables bubble around in the sauce. 

It was Logan’s favourite, and it was a token of your appreciation for yet another grand gesture of his love towards you – the thanks a slither of what he does for you on the daily. But as you watch over the chicken pie filling in the saucepan, you can’t help but notice something missing, something that’s supposed to be there but isn’t. 

And when you blink from your fixed, hazed stare, you see exactly what you need on the countertop. The chopped up pieces of bacon on the board —his favourite part— sitting there like it’s mocking you, telling you that you’re terrible for forgetting it. And it’s not like you can add it now, it would be horrible and ruin it completely. 

All you can do now is move on, move past it. Though now it feels like you can do anything but. The bacon a reminder of your apparent failures, inadequacies. It was silly to be caught up on missing meat, but it wasn’t just about that – it was like it was even more proof that you were out of your depth with Logan. That forgetting the bacon somehow made you a horrible, horrible person.

You stare at the board for a moment, trying so desperately hard not to let it get to you and then you see Logan walk past the window – a couple fresh chopped logs of wood under one arm, an axe and a bunch of wildflowers in the hand of his other. And somehow the sight made you feel nothing short of awful. His thought and care once again overshadowing your attempts.

You quickly wipe under your eyes, an act of precaution to make sure nothing had seeped from you while you beat yourself up over something so tiny. You follow the sound of the front door opening, the scuffling of his boots following shortly after as he places down the pieces of timber. 

“Smells fuckin’ good,” he compliments, the warm, homely smell hitting at his nose immediately. 

He walks over to you, right, flower-held hand tucked from your view as he moves to stand behind, free arm reaching for your waist the second he’s close enough. 

“I got’ya somethin’,” he whispers behind you, punctuating his sentence with a kiss under your ear – his neck peering round and over your shoulder. 

You turn into him, your back against the edge of the counter to see what you already knew to be in his hand. He pulls the flowers from behind his back, the stems cut neatly with the help of his adamantium tools. They’re beautiful, all hand picked from the surrounding forest around the cabin. 

He guides them to your hand, noticing your unusual hesitation as you stare at the bouquet. He, too, pauses, looking over your face to understand your silence. Did you hate them? You never usually hate them.

“Do you…” he hesitates, trying to find the words. “Hate them?”

“No,” you say, word soft as you shake your head, the motion just as gentle as your voice.

Logan cocks his head slightly, angling to meet your eyes but you only divert them again, turning away from his gaze as you reach for the bunch of flowers. Only now they’re out of your grasp, his hand to his chest. 

“You okay?” he asks, the withdrawal of the gift an attempt to make you meet his eyes. 

“Yeah,” you lie with a nod, a small, faint, smile accompanying the fib. 

“You’re not lying to me, are you?” 

You look over him quickly, expression bashful as you shrug. He hates when you lie to him, especially about these things. It was only a white lie really, just a small, teeny tiny mistruth to spare yourself from embarrassment. But your silence doesn’t last long.

“I messed up dinner,” you admit, the confession pried from you by his prolonged, patient silence. Your words are quiet as you avoid his eyes, instead staring down to his chest.

He glances past you and into the saucepan, seeing no such fault. He faintly shakes his head, features quizzical as he tries to understand.

“It looks good to me,” he says, with a slight, but genuine shrug – unable to see what you see.

You close your eyes with a sigh, the noise light and airy as your head drops, gaze lowering. 

“I forgot the bacon.”

His head cocks once again, the motion like he’s growing more and more confused. 

“Yeah?” he prompts, trying to get you to say more. 

But that’s all there is to say, you forgot the bacon – that’s it. It wasn’t like it was a pause or the beginning of some speech.

“It’s your favourite part,” you reply, defeat evident in your voice. 

“Uh-uh?” he guides you through your confession, still unsure of what the issue is. He knew there was more, he just had to ease it out of you. 

“It’s your favourite part,” you repeat, momentarily glancing up to meet his eyes. “It’s not your favourite meal if I forget your favourite part,” you cut yourself short as your voice begins to waver, a bubble forming in your the back of your throat. 

He holds onto your short eye contact, following your gaze when your head goes to turn. “Come on now, talk to me,” he offers his comfort, speaking like it was a plea.

“I feel like I can never keep up.”

“Keep up with what?” he questions, desperate to keep you talking. 

“With you,” you pause and place your hand over your opposite upper arm, the act a brief moment of self soothing. You exhale softly before continuing. “You do all these nice things for me— see? Look,” you point to the flowers in his hand. “Right there. You thought of me and you got them and they’re beautiful. Why can’t I do that?”

Logan opens his mouth to speak, though you’re keen to continue. The bandaid free and invoking all your feelings to come out at once. 

“I make you desserts, I make a mess. I buy you something, I buy the wrong thing. I make your favourite dinner, I ruin your favourite dinner,” you pause, your vision growing blurry. “Sometimes,” you pause once more, wiping your eyes. “Sometimes I don’t know if you know how much I love you. Like, I can never seem to prove it and I don’t—” you cut yourself off, stopping yourself from what you were about to say. You didn’t want to make a further mess of things. 

“You don’t, what?” he asks, his attention undivided as he listens to you. “You don’t, what?” he repeats, eyes boring into yours as he urges a response from you. 

“Want you to feel like you made a mistake,” you confess, voice quiet like you were ashamed for thinking such thing. 

“Do you think I made a mistake?” he questions, flipping your moment of insecurity back on you. Though his words hold no malice, no intention of hurt – just simply speaking like he was trying to figure you out. 

Your silence speaks louder than any words could. Your eyes quickly flickering over his face like you were anticipating what he may say in response. It could go one of two ways: irritated and angry or soft and hurt. 

“I haven’t,” he says, voice as firm as his eyes. “I know I haven’t,” he repeats, trying to engrain it into you. 

All you can offer Logan is a faint, flattered smile, fragments of disbelief just as evident within you as before. One thing about your husband you knew to be forever true, is his earnest nature. So you knew he wasn’t telling you what you wanted to hear only to spare himself.

Logan places the flowers on the counter to the right of you, laying the bunch neatly at your side. He keeps his attention on you, eyes fixed on yours as if he’s trying to prove his sincerity – his honesty. 

His head drops slightly as he rests his lips against your forehead. “Do you believe me?” he asks gently against your skin, punctuating his question with a kiss to where he just spoke.

You wrap your arms around him as you tuck your face into his neck, hands connecting in the middle of his back. “Yeah,” you reply, word muffling into him. 

It was a lie, a partial lie at that. You knew in your heart —deep, deep in there— that it was true, and that you believed it, but right now? You just couldn’t get it into your head. So you lied, not wanting to run around in circles with repetitive asks all evening.

But this is Logan, he knows your tells and when you’re lying. But he doesn’t poke any further, instead pressing another kiss to your forehead before pulling away, clearing his throat briefly. 

“Why don’t you go lay in the tub,” he starts, usual gruff voice now soft, speaking like he’s trying to soothe you. “I’ll finish that off,” he gestures with his eyes, nodding to the stove top on the other side of you. 

You turn to look at the ‘mess’ beside you and nod, accepting his help with no more deflecting or avoiding. And as you step aside, you stroke over his back where your hands laid just moments before, the act another one of your silent thanks.

His left, ringed hand brushes your left, ringed hand as you move from your placement in front of him, your fingers loosely entwining for a short, brief second before passing. 

⎯ ☆ ⎯

Standing in front of the dresser in your shared bedroom, you change from your towel and into something a little more comfortable – opting for a robe and slippers. You give yourself a quick glance over as you pass the mirror on your way out the room, though you don’t take too much notice, instead flicking off the light switch as you set off to the living room.

The bath helped. It helped massively, actually. 

Your slippers scuffle along the hallway of your cabin, the floorboards worn and creaky by it’s old age. Lingering in the doorframe, you look over at Logan on the sofa, elbows resting on his knees as he stares at the lit fireplace ahead – looking as though he’s lost in thought.

“Hi,” you start, capturing his attention.

His eyes flick up to you, a faint —his usual— smile welcoming you back. He clears his throat like he’s going to speak but instead he taps the empty seat on the couch beside him.

You look around the open space before your eyes land on the orange, warm light shining out of the oven and onto the tiles. The pie you started to make now sitting on the centre shelf. The rest of your messes cleaned and tucked away, all evidence hidden. And there he sits, asking for no recognition – no praise or approval for cleaning up after you. He’s just there, patiently awaiting you.

“How long’s it been in?” you ask, gesturing to the oven. “The pie,” you add, turning to look at him with a smile.

“Three minutes,” he reciprocates your warmth as he nods you over to him. 

“Did you let the pastry warm up?”

He nods.

“And the—” 

“Taken care of,” he interrupts, slipping his hand into yours. He guides you to stand between his legs, eyes honed in on you above. Like he’s anticipating you, he answers the question you’re about to ask – once again proving just how well he knows you. 

“Cooked it in ‘nother pan then added it on top,” he replies, speaking casually.

You stifle a laugh as you shake your head – it was really a simple fix. 

With his gaze still focused on you, he begins playing with your left hand, his thumb mindlessly grazing your ring – the fiddling an absentminded act. As if he’s reminding him and yourself of your marital bond.

“Thank you.”

He hums, the sound far more gentle than his typical rough ones. It’s like he’s acknowledging your appreciation without taking the credit for it.

You extend your free hand, reaching for the side of his face, touch light as you brush over his cheek. Your thumb traces under his eye, soothing over the tired skin as you take a step closer – silently instructing him to lean against the back.

Logan does as wordlessly asked, his hips rolling underneath himself as he repositions, sitting in a manspread for you. He follows your movements as you sit on his lap, straddling one of his beefy thighs, your arms briefly hooking around his neck as you do so. He looks up at you from your very, very slight height advantage, eyes keen as he gazes into yours – staring like he’s trying to read you. You seem far lighter, far happier than the last time he saw you. 

One hand rests on his cheek, the other grazing through the shorts of his dark hair – your hold gentle and dear as you press a string of soft, slow kisses across the stubble of his beard. One by one you get closer to his mouth, reaching his lips by the fourth. 

His hands move up you from behind, skimming across the cheeks of your ass until they’re resting on your hips, the presence of his hold noticeable through the robes' thin fabric. He begins a pawing – irregular, needy squeezes into you like he’s silently communicating his thoughts and wants, scoping out whether you feel the same. 

“How much time is left on the pie?” you quietly ask, speaking against his lips. Your question also an attempt to scope him out.

His grasp around you tightens, the slight force of his hold making your grind against his thigh. “Enough,” he prompts, murmuring into your mouth – lips not yet daring to connect.

He grinds you over your thigh, the motion slow and leisured as he holds you over him, working you up little by little. Gentle exasperated breaths from you caught between your closeness. 

Upon hearing those sounds he loves ever so much, he pulls you into him, wrapping you into a brief, momentary hug before turning and laying you on the empty space of sofa beside him. He adjusts, situating above you but to your side, weight anchored beside you. 

You look up at him sweetly, eyes flickering over his face in the same way he does you – specks of admiration and lust forming within each of your glances. You adjust under him, the act like you were trying to redirect him, guide him to above rather than to your side. Wanting to feel him graze up against you.

Logan brings his free hand to the side of your face, touch heavy and desperate as he thumbs over your cheek, holding you there as he presses a couple lengthy kisses to your lips – the contact anything but brisk. And with that hand around the swell of your cheek, he’s grazing it down your neck, trailing towards your chest. 

He parts the loose, flimsy material of the robe, parting the fabric so he can slip a hand inside. Cupping one of your bare tits, he pulls it out from underneath – the full weight of your breast held within his warm, large hand. All of it on display for him to marvel at from above. 

Angling his neck, he reaches for your tit, tongue swiping over the nipple just moments before his lips encompass it. The warmth of his mouth making your stomach tingle and fingers tighten in his hair, a jolt-like roll of your hips accompanying your desperate micro actions.

He holds himself there for a prolonged moment, keeping his lips to your nipple as his fingers begin a very slight pawing around the lower swell of it. The motion like he’s rolling you within his hold. A streak of residual wet being left behind as he pulls his head up from your chest.

You look down to him between your tits, his face just mere inches from yours. One of your breasts still within Logan’s manly hold, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your priorly sucked nipple — the act a soothing caress. 

“Where’d you want me?” he asks, voice quiet between your close distance. “What’d you want?” he adds, just as softly as before, speaking like his one goal is to provide service. Service to you. 

You make a faint, disgruntled whine upon his questioning, your mind whizzing with thoughts of him, ideas of him. The feel of his cock growing hard against your thigh only making your head race faster. 

He shifts above you, lips reaching for yours as his hand around your tit travels down and between your thighs. The warmth of his touch is nothing like your warmth. He slips behind the opening of your robe, his fingers itching to your bare cunt ever so slowly, moving like he’s trying to help you decide. Though he’s doing the complete opposite — making it all the more challenging to answer with your mind whirring like it is. 

He lines the crease of your cunt with the pad of his finger, brushing up and down with the lightest, faintest of touch — his lips resting against yours so he can swallow your jittery breaths. The strokes from him are almost mindless, brushing over you like he’s unaware of the effects he has on you. Still has on you after all this time. 

“This?” he whispers against your mouth while his finger trails up the slit of your pussy, grazing over your folds.

You nod against him in response, the motion gentle and careful.

Logan teases over your cunt’s lips, collecting the slight build up of slick to smear and trace over you — spreading your arousal with his light touch. Working you up the and more. He pulls away to look over you, wanting to watch your face. 

And when your eyes find his, that’s when he slips his middle finger into you. Holding onto your gaze as he presses inside with the utmost of ease. 

It was what you needed, not what you wanted. And he could tell — the knitting of your brows and slightly unsatisfied crumple of your nose telling him before you even got a chance. And as you open your mouth to speak, mere milliseconds away from asking him to add another, he’s already lining his ring finger up with you, slipping it inside to accompany his middle. 

The steady rocking of him further blurs any sense of coherency in your mind, the slow massage-like fucking of his fingers against your g-spot loosening you up nicely for him. 

Your hand in his hair moves to the side of his face, grip desperate as you hold him there, muffling incoherent words of thanks — each murmur being overshadowed by those blissed noises he can never seem to get enough of. And while you keep his face to yours, your other hand is reaching for his arm between your thighs, fingers struggling to enwrap the meat of his upper wrist. 

The pumping of his fingers into you is steady, each graze of him from the inside coming from a place of leisure, like the concept of haste is the furthest thing in his mind. 

Though, he’s only human and there’s only so much he can take. Especially when you’re squirming under him like you are. The clicking of his fingers in your pussy only making it harder on him. 

So, he slowly retracts from the wet warmth of your cunt, strings of your cum remaining connected to him, until they don’t. And as he pulls himself away from you, he licks over his knuckles, lapping over the milky white band you left around him.

Logan sits on his heels between your thighs as he unbuckles his jeans, his dry hand tasked with the job of unbuttoning. He gives the band a hasty tug down, the act nothing short of pure desperation. 

He digs down the front to grab a hold on himself, grasp tight around his dick as he pulls it out over the top of his jeans. Cock hard and heavy within his hold. And as he gives himself a few preparatory strokes as he leans back over you in his prior hovered position — weight anchored on his free arm beside your head.

Guiding his cock to you between the opening of your robe, he pushes his head through your lips, collecting your arousal like it’s his personal, endless supply of lube. And only when he deems himself ready, he’s lining up with you, the tip of his dick pressing up against you for a brief moment before he’s easing in. Slowly but surely feeding himself into your cunt. 

Upon the entry of his thick, heavy cock, your hands fly up to his face, holding either cheek to keep him close, lips skimming like they did just minutes before. Breath being caught in your throat, the air almost trapped as you feel him sink further and further inside, filling you entirely with himself.

He stills, keeping the whole, full length of his cock plugged inside, the motion of his hips non-existent as he gives you a quick second to get reacquainted with his size. He lowers his head, pressing his forehead against yours while he catches his own breath, the suction-like feel from your cunt having the same effect on him as he does you.

You squirm underneath him and your knees cling to his sides, keeping him glued to you.

“Move,” you whisper, the word like that of pure need. “Come on.”

His lips straighten against yours, a subtle smile forming. “Thought’ya liked the buildup,” he speaks quietly. 

The hand that was around his dick, feeding into you, now rests on your face — carefully manhandling you and keeping you put. Logan nips at your lips quickly, pressing a chaste kiss to them as he rolls his hips into you, bumping his cock up.

“That’s what you wanted?” he teases, pressing a kiss just under your chin, making you tilt your head back. Hand moving with the motion of him, palm grazing to rest at the base of your throat. “It is, ain’t it?” he continues with his teasing, muttering between kisses along your jaw. “Hm?”

You hum, the noise sounding like a whine amongst your other blissed sounds. The concept of formulating coherent speech seeming to be far too difficult with the way he feels inside of you. All you can do is squeeze your eyes closed and nod, unable to do anything more than that – just lay beneath him, taking his tender, loving fucking. 

Logan’s one true goal: to replace all prior feelings of pain with pleasure, wanting to make you forget about your upset from before. And with the way his dick is winding into you, he’s getting closer to that goal. 

⎯ ☆ ⎯

including the moodboard bc she’s cute

[k-archives]

MATT MURDOCK day 15 (29, oct) — orgasm denial

18+ fem!reader, 246 words. mdni!!

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST ⋆ ˚｡𖦹.

He could tell. He could always tell.

He knew your orgasm’s arrival moments before you even did: the increase thumping in your heart's rhythm, your shudder-like breaths growing closer together, the seizing of your muscles. All of which are tells to Matt when he’s fucking you so. 

Like now, cock tucked into your cunt, hands gripped and anchored on the backs of your thighs, his weight from above keeping you against the mattress. The incessant drilling into you is frenzy fuel, the head of his cock repeatedly pressing against your g-spot in this manhandled position is the reason behind your laboured moans. Each one almost guttural, like his dick is scooping and digging the sounds out of you.

And when you feel that pressure begin to build, your own heartbeat being heard in your ears — he’s retracting his cock from you, heavy weight of his dick resting atop your stomach as he catches his breath. The needy winding of your hips an attempt to urge him, your sulky sounds a further attempt, though it all falls on deaf ears. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he smiles as he briefly shakes his head. Apology disingenuous. “I slipped,” he lies. 

His patience juxtaposes yours as he waits, listening to your body’s tells subside — heartbeat evening, heat from your body lowering, just waiting. Waiting and waiting until he can have his fun with you again, though his only intention is to leave you on the cusp. Dangling over the precipice all night.

⎯ ☆ ⎯

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LOGAN HOWLETT day 11 (21, oct) — breast worship

18+ fem!reader, 418 words. mdni!!

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST ⋆ ˚｡𖦹.

You stand between Logan’s thighs, his seated position at the edge of the sofa making him far shorter than his usual height. You have your hands in his hair, running through the short lengths as he presses the side of his face into your sternum. Ear to your nightdress, listening to the steady, soothing beating of your heart.

His arms are wrapped comfortably around your thighs, hands cupping your ass — his hold like he was trying to keep you from leaving. His grasp on your ass runs up the small of your back, palms sliding up the smooth, shiny fabric of your dress until they’re either side of your tits. Thumbs brushing over your nipples through the material.

He pulls his head back slightly to look up at you, gaze flickering over your face in that attentive way he often does. And as he keeps his eyes locked on yours, he’s snaking his  fingers into the straps of your dress, the slight force of his grip pulling it from your shoulders.

Never once breaking contact from your eyes, he tugs the thin straps down your arms, letting the fabric that covers your chest fall with them. The soft, satin-like material bunches and pools around a slight dip of you, your tits now bare in front of his face.

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout these all day,” he says, voice low and quiet.

He parts from your eyes to look over your breasts momentarily, his hands now moving to support them, holding under each. His thumbs glide over your nipples, repeating that same prior motion, only now it’s under the fabric. Just slow, little swirls as he flickers back up to your face — watching your eyes flutter closed and lips part, head tipping back shortly after.

Your fingers in his hair tighten, your grasp ever so slight when you feel his breath against your skin, his face getting closer to you. You straighten your neck from its fallen position to look down at him, meeting his keen eyes already focused on you so eagerly.

He adjusts his hold under one of your tits as he brings his mouth to it, lips skimming your nipple as he peppers faint, light kisses around it — working you up more and more. 

And only when enough teasing has sufficed, he’s pressing his lips to your skin, littering you with worship-like kisses and suckles. One hand pawing at your lonely tit, the other clasped around your waist for your support — your knees beginning their slight buckle.

⎯ ☆ ⎯

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ANSON MOUNT as Cullen Bohannon in HELL ON WHEELS (2011-2016) “Hell On Wheels” (1x01)

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MATT MURDOCK day 7 (13, oct) — blindfold

18+ fem!reader, 348 words. mdni!!

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST ⋆ ˚｡𖦹.

Tonight, your sleep mask doubled as a blindfold, the covering's purpose to isolate your senses in the same way —or as similar— to Matt’s. To make your mind and body concentrate solely on the feelings with the sense of sight taken away.

His near nude self hovers above your completely bare one. His speech soft between the close distance, making you focus on his words.

“Where am I now, sweetheart?” he asks, tone gentle as he caresses down your arm with a singular finger. 

“My arm,” you reply.

“Mhm-hm, good,” he smiles, rewarding you with a quick kiss. “Do you know where I’m going next?” he questions, his voice getting further away as he moves from the hover — now sitting on his knees between yours.

“No,” you shake your head.

His finger that was stroking over the goosebumps of your arm has moved to rest between your tits, his touch light and faint as he draws a line from your chest down to your stomach. One slow, continuous drag-like trail down your midriff.

You couldn’t see Matt, but you knew he was smiling — the quickening thump of your heart making his ears prick, the heaviness in your breath having the same effect. The twitching of you under his fingertip verifying the significance of isolated touch. 

“Where am I going now?” he asks, speaking just as soft as before. 

His finger skims the lower part of your stomach, grazing above your pubic bone before moving to your inner thigh — trying to throw you off course with his new placement of touch.

“I don’t know,” you say, words breathy and airy.

The bed dips with his assumed change of position, the direction of his voice once again altering as he settles between your thighs. You feel his breath against your pussy, his mouth seeming to be mere inches from you.

His hands move to support under your thighs, his touch warm and delicate as he repositions you to make space for himself. His shoulders pushing your thighs further apart as he whispers lowly against you.

“Want to hazard a guess?”

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thinking about kissing logan’s hand during sex (found this in my docs from like 2 weeks ago, probs shit but oh well) 18+

he’s fucking into you from behind, laid in a spoon-like position with his chest pressed up against your back. strokes slow and lazy, the rocking motion of his cock sporadic. the girthy, lengthy feel of him tucked in your cunt enough to scramble any sense in your brain.

your fingers are loosely intertwined with his across your stomach, his beefy lower arm resting in the slight dip of your waist. 

“taking it like a princess,” he whispers behind you, lips mouthing against the skin on the back of your neck.

you raise your hand to your mouth, keeping your fingers interlocked with his as you press soft, light, fluttery kisses into his knuckles. you hold him to you, keeping the back of his hand to your mouth.

“like my princess,” he corrects, gaze focused on the worship-like caress from your lips.

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Qui-Gon Jinn NSFW Alphabet

Smut below the cut!

Warning: F! reader, 18+

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex): Qui-Gon makes sure you have water on your bed side table and a towel to clean up. He usually offers to cuddle and plays with your hair until you fall asleep.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): His favorite part of himself is his hair. It took him a long time to achieve the length he has and considers it a sign of patience he learned in his Jedi training. He also loves when you wash and comb it for him.

His favorite part of you is your stomach or your hips. He loves the idea of holding onto you for dear life when you ride him or when he eats you out.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum): Qui-Gon will only cum after he knows you have, such a gentleman. If he does accidently cum earlier into your sessions he is all for making it up to you however you deem fit. *wink wink*

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): He likes it when you pull his hair. It excites him because of the switch in dominance and because it pulls his face up to look at yours.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?): Qui-Gon is not overly experienced since he has dedicated most of his adult life to being a Jedi. However, he is a quick learner and wants to please you.

F = Favorite Position: cowgirl and missionary may be bland but he loves being able to look at you and watch your reactions to his movements.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.): In the moment he is quite serious, but every now and then the foreplay leads to a lamp being knocked over or accidently turning on his comm link. In those moments you can't help but laugh.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.): He always has his hair done, whether that be half up/half down, a bun, or sometimes if he lets you; braids. Below the belt he is groomed but not bare. He embraces the natural look bestowed upon him by mother nature.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…): Qui-Gon is so romantic it hurts. He will fill the room with candles, soft music, wine; the works. He also loves foreplay so he takes his time with you.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon): He prefers you of course, but when he is off on long missions he uses it as a distraction or a reminder of you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks): breeding, spanking, role playing

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do): Ever the traditionalist, he likes to do it on a bed or some soft surface so he doesn't hurt his pillow princess. However, on the rare occasion when you say your farewells on his ship, y'all used the cockpit so whenever he navigates on that mission, he could picture you right there with him.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): Anything that would overtly hurt you or threesomes. He doesn't want to share you.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going): hair pulling, dirty talk, light saber foreplay

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc): Loves to give, loves to receive. He loves the taste of you after a long mission. His tongue methodically swipes between your folds to elicit the most beautiful moan he has ever heard.

Giving him head is an out of body experience. Only about half of his member can fit in you at once. He is so encouraging and loves the velvety movement of your tongue.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.): Romantic and slow mostly. There will be times when you want to be railed and he will indulge that fantasy but he much rather savor the moment.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.): Not a big fan. He likes to spoil you and cherish the time you have together since he's sent off on missions frequently.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.): The only risk you face is someone catching you both, since Jedis are not supposed to take a lover. You have become quite stealthy when you sneak out to meet in botanical gardens or behind a row of speeders.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…): He can go all night. Not one orgasm right after the other, but he can easily feel himself getting hard again when he sees you reach over him for a glass of water, pull your hair back, or begin kissing his chest.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?): Qui-Gon doesn't like the idea. He is a too proud in some ways and likes to know he is the only one (or only thing) getting you off.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): Qui-Gon has great patience, but you, not so much. He'll tease you with kisses all over your face but not on your lips. Or he'll kiss down your neck to your breasts, stomach and hip but halt at your pussy. He wants to see you squirm and beg him before he obliges.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make): He's not a screamer per se, but he is vocal. He loves to be close to you and groan in your ear, letting you know just how crazy you make him.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): Qui-Gon loves dirty talk. Whether that is him telling you how good you make him feel or in saying things like, "do you want to kiss my cock, little star? Agggh, you can fit so much of me like the good little girl you are." He knows how wet it makes you and that only makes him do it more.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants): He is a modest man but boy is he packing. Qui-Gon is 6'4'' and completely proportional if you catch my drift.  

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?): His sex drive is quite high but is patient. However, the first moment you two get to yourselves, he jumps your bones.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): He doesn't instantly go to sleep but rather dozes off with you.

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LOGAN HOWLETT day 2 (03, oct) — creampie & cockwarming

18+ fem!reader, 312 words. mdni!!

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST ⋆ ˚｡𖦹.

You’re on top, his cock wedged nicely inside as you slowly rock over him. Gentle little bounces and grinds as you ride out the last of your high, winding over him with your hands splayed flat on his chest, exhausted. 

“God— fuck, that’s it,” Logan grunts, his fingers squeezing tighter into your hips. “Lil’more,” he groans, your movements milking out the last remaining bit of his cum. 

“Oh, god,” you sigh, the sound tired as you topple forward - slumping over him and tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “Shit.”

He hums softly, his hands moving from their grasp on your hips to the small of your back, palms large and warm as he runs up the expanse of your spine. Stroking over your skin in a soft, soothing manner. 

His cock remains tucked in your cunt, the head twitching and pulsing inside as it slowly but surely calms to a halt. A milky ring around the base of him, streaks of your combined cum running down and off his balls. 

He bends at the knee to get comfortable, the motion knocking the rest of his dick back up into you. The full aching length of him resting comfortably inside as you keep him warm. He keeps a hand on your back as if he’s keeping you stable, his other reaching for the blanket draped over the back of the sofa. Shaking it above you both, he covers each of you - mostly you and your exposed back.

Cupping the back of your head with his now free hand, he holds onto it carefully, his fingers matching the soft stroking rhythm like his hand on your back. The easing, loving caressing of his large hands push you further into your tired state.

“Rest up, sugar,” he whispers into the side of your head, voice soft and gentle muffling into your hair.

had to reupload bc tumblr funked up original upload as per. does it all the time and im sick of it

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LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST.

<- back to navi

last updated: sep 13, 2024

KEY:

☾ -> fluff

★ -> smut

✧ -> angst

blank -> miscellaneous

thot ★

thot 2 ★

thot 3 ★

thot 4 ★

company ☾

thot 5 ★

guard dog

nsfw hcs ★

thot 6 ★

thot 7 ★

pollen ★

offering a hand ☾

thot 8 ★

thot 9 ★

thot 10 ★

prom season ☾

thot 11 ★

thot 12 ★

©little-miss-dilf-lover // all work is my own. please do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

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KINKTOBER ‘24 MASTERLIST.

⋆ ˚｡𖦹 18+ for all blurbs as they’re smut. each blurb will have its own context/ trigger warnings and will be tagged accordingly. will be uploaded around 10pm UK time. MDNI!!

[some days/ kinks are subject to change]

MAIN MASTERLIST

— day one (01, oct) overstimulation w/ bucky barnes

— day two (03, oct) cockwarming w/ logan howlett

— day three (05, oct) thigh fucking w/ steven grant

— day four (07, oct) fingering w/ spencer reid

— day five (09, oct) food play w/ miguel o’hara

— day six (11, oct) mirror sex w/ tangerine

— day seven (13, oct) blindfold w/ matt murdock

— day eight (15, oct) period sex w/ peter quill

— bonus day (16, oct) just the tip w/ simon riley

— day nine (17, oct) dry humping w/ peter maximoff

— day ten (19, oct) 3some w/ bucky barnes & steve rogers

— day eleven (21, oct) body worship w/ logan howlett

— day twelve (23, oct) face sitting w/ tangerine

— day thirteen (25, oct) bondage w/ the moonboys

— day fourteen (27, oct) shower sex w/ spencer reid

— day fifteen (29, oct) orgasm denial w/ matt murdock

— day sixteen (31, oct) exhibitionism w/ pietro maximoff

©little-miss-dilf-lover // all work is my own. please do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms

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thinking about sitting on logan’s lap after you’re done fucking. fem!reader, mdni. cw for overstimulation?

you’re rather tired, spent even. the hour-long session seeming to take its toll on you. logan has no problems with stamina, his libido quite unlike any man you’ve met. he could round after round if he knew it not to be a problem on your end.

but you’re not like him. you’re an average kinda girl. and after two to three sessions with the wolverine, you’re often finding yourself at that sweet spot of defeat.

so when you reach that point, you’re the first to tap out. a soft pat on his back and a faint shake of the head silently telling him it was time to call it quits – a wordless sense of communication known to each of you. those fifty-some minutes beginning to do more pain than pleasure.

and because logan’s that kind of guy —an actual man— he’s quick to stop. often opting to bring you into a tight hold, pulling you onto his lap as he rests against the headboard. he has you so your side is to his front, your body almost curled into him as he supports your back. big, muscular forearm wrapped around the lower part of your back, fingers digging and pawing into your bare waist.

with his other hand, he draws circles into the skin of your thighs. middle finger grazing lazily over the chub, tip faintly swirling around in an unsystematic pattern.

your head rests against his shoulder, the side of your face pressing into the burly, meaty part while you occupy your hands with his chest. fingers brushing leisurely through the hairs, each stroke soft and gentle – just like the way he touches you. it's all so tender, loving.

he presses kisses into your hairline, each one delicate and calming. the action almost soothing. it was as if he was reinforcing his love for you after practically pushing you to your limits. making sure you feel cared for and cherished. the softness in his touch mirroring his soft nature that only you’re allowed to see.

he whispers into your forehead, lips lingering to your skin. “I’ll do the bath. you go get us some beers, sweet girl.”

AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH I WANT HIM!

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GUARD DOG.

logan howlett x bartender fem!reader

word count. 654

summary. you’re a bartender on shift when one of your regulars intervenes a drunken harassment. suggestive mentions

“Another,” you hear, the word just about audible through the drunken voices around you.

“Last one,” you quip, eyes playfully narrowing at the regular –Logan– across the bar. “You’re gonna get me fired.”

“I won’t tell,” he shakes his head, sliding his glass across the oak with one hand, the other reaching into his pocket. “Get me a packet of those uh– those nuts there, too,” he gestures, nodding to the shelf behind you. 

You turn to collect his bar snack, reaching high with arms extended way above your head. The tip-making-tank you often wear riding up your back as you reach, the slinky, black fabric revealing a slither of skin from behind. 

The eyes of Logan remain fixed on you, gaze heavy as he watches the slight sway of you in his view. Though he couldn’t stare for long, a drunken asshole moving to stand beside him, beginning his start of spew of gross, derogatory comments.

“Hey baby,” the guy says, his speech slurred as he ogles at you from the back.

You turn to follow the voice, a fresh face leaning across the bar, his arms reaching across the slab of wood. You follow the scoff of Logan beside the stranger, his head shaking disapprovingly – hands balling into fists under his chin.

“I want a shot,” he says, a sleazy, cocky smile on his face.

“What can I get you?” you ask as you top up Logan’s glass, filling it with his usual choice. 

“Can I get a blow job?” the stranger chuckles as he looks back at his friends, his demeanour arrogant.

You again follow the entertained scorn-like sigh, looking at Logan across from you. He wasn’t amused. He cocks his head, his lips forming a straight line after hearing the distasteful comment directed at you.

You wanted to hit the man, but you remained professional – pushing off his double entendre of a question.

“We don’t do those anymore,” you shake your head and hand the bag of nuts to Logan, reassuring his checking look with a nod.

“What about a back shot?” the guy laughs, his drunken footing lingering.

Logan drops his fists to the bar, all restraints vanishing with every passing comment. He was pissed, it was clear. The narrowing in his eyes telling you all you needed to know. 

“What about—” is all the guy manages to utter before his head is pushed into the bar, Logan’s hand around the back of the man's neck – his force pushing the drunk's face further into the wood. 

“What about an apology?” Logan murmurs.

And when he doesn’t get the response he wants, he slams the guy's face back into the wood – grip tight as he repeats his question. “What about an apology?” he reiterates, words chillingly calm as he leans to speak into the man’s ear.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” the stranger trembles, half-ass apologies rambling into the sticky bar. “I’m sorry.”

Logan peels the man off the counter, forcefully straightening his posture as he makes him look at you. “Not to me,” he ruffles the guy’s collar, shaking him as he directs his focus. “To her.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Is that good for you?” Logan asks, looking at you – eyes soft on you, hands firm on the man.

You wipe away a smile and nod.

“Good,” he shoves off the drunk, pushing at his back as he stumbles away. “Now, fuck off.”

The silence around the bar slowly refills with sounds of conversation, everyone redirecting their focus away from the scene.

“Thank you,” you nod at Logan, features genuine when you lock eyes with his.

He shrugs earnestly, brushing off the act as he reaches for his glass – acting as if nothing had happened. 

You bend at the arm, resting your elbows on the bar as you lean over slightly, subtly getting closer to him on the other side. “I might have to give you that shot he was talking about.”

I have too many ideas for him, this is killing me

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both watching as it goes in with LOGAN HOWLETT

fem!reader, 434 words. mdni 18+

You lay on your back, arms bent behind you. Elbows supporting your weight, using the slight elevation to look down at Logan between your legs. His face tucked betwixt your thighs, broad torso keeping your knees apart. 

He runs a hand over the bottom half of his face, wiping your slick from his chin as he leans over to kiss you – lingering for a beat so you could taste yourself on his tongue. And when he parts, he repositions himself on his knees between you. A large hand wrapped around the girth of his dick as he gives himself a few precautionary pumps.

He adjusts, his other hand grabbing on your hip to pull you closer to him, the head of his cock bumping against your clit as he does so. He keeps his eyes cast downwards, looking between your thighs like you do – needily eyeing every little movement.

Your eyes flicker up to him for a brief moment, the gaze being met almost instantly with the same knowing look. And when you feel him itch closer, your eyes fall back down to his cock, his eyeline following yours in the same greedy way. 

You watch as he pushes his head through your folds, collecting your residual slick – using you as lube before giving your clit a gentle tap with his tip. 

He lines himself up with you, fist tight around his base as he feeds his cock into you. Moving slowly as to allow you a moment to accommodate him, the full length of him tediously easing inside. 

And you watch eagerly —both of you do— each of your eyes never once parting from the lewd view. Staring at the way he disappears inside of you, your pussy stretching around him comfortably like it’s done dozens of times before. And when you feel a set of eyes on you, you look up at Logan above, his gaze momentarily looking over your face.

You meet his stares with a soft, bashful smile – the vulnerability of it all catching up with you. But he replaces those feelings, leaning over to press a kiss into your forehead, the act sweet and gentle despite its hot and dirty circumstance.

His hands paw at your hips, fingers digging and squeezing into you as he begins the gentle wind of his hips – each of your gazes falling to between your thighs once more, staring intently at the way he glides in and out of you. The movement ever so fluid.

It was all so hot, pornographic even. You only wished you could see it from his point of view.

okay last one of these (maybe) everyone's probs so sick of them

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LOGAN HOWLETT 18+ thoughts about late night sex in the kitchen of xavier’s mansion

[fem!reader, mdni]

last one for a bit (this might be a lie bc I have another wip )

It’s late, the school quiet. Everyone asleep for the night. 

Or so you thought. 

Your late night trip to the kitchen for water taking a detour when you see Logan at the island, a secretly bought beer clutched in hand. It’s dark, the kitchen dimly lit by the moon’s cast through the window. You didn’t see him at first, nor did you expect anyone else to be up at this hour – the silk, slinky robe you threw on all evidence of that.

The supposed, simple journey to fetch a drink after some alone time escalating into something else. Something like you were picturing during those thirty-some minutes in your room.

The trip downstairs turning into hushed, hasty sex against the counter – the force of his front against your back pushing you further into the worktop ahead. Your hands situated firmly on the edge, fingers digging into the wood as a means to keep stable. His hold around your middle just as tight – his grasp only further aiding your stability.

He fucks into you testingly, the waistband of his pyjamas tucked just under his cock. His clothing revealing only what it needs in the same way yours does; robe flowing freely, fabric covering all of you except the parts that raise and crumple and ruche with his touch. 

You lift a leg, resting your knee on the counter to make more space for him behind – the new positioning opening you up further. The deeper angle allowing more strangled, hoarse, strained noises to fill the space. His fucking never once faltering with your struggling sounds.

Your back arching away from him and head falling onto his shoulder as a means to feel him just that bit more.

“Keep it down,” he whispers behind your ear. “Don’t want them hearing too much,” he teases, referring to the whole school of gifted individuals.

He was getting under your skin, trying to shame you for your shared urges. But it only made it that much hotter – the thought of being caught making it all the more thrilling.

And he knew that, he could feel it. The unknowing tightening of you around his cock acting as a tell. Like one big giveaway.

“Afraid of how much you like it?” he says, voice low and quiet as he speaks into your ear. Like before, only this time he’s closer. Lips practically grazing at your lobe.

You nod, body reacting before your mind gets a second to fight it. And when he feels you mere moments away from giving up all sense of quiet —your climax in the midst— he places a hand over your mouth, palm large over the bottom half of your face. His other moving to grab a handful of tit, fingers pawing and kneading into the squidge through the thin fabric.

His mouth on the back of your neck, lips pressing the faintest of kisses into your skin. The act spurring you along.

And when you both reach your end, panting over the edge of the counter, you’re quick to pretend as if it never happened —like those dozen secret encounters before— making yourselves busy when you see Scott appear in the doorframe. 

Your uneasy, darting eyes and Logan's messy hair and discarded tank acting as yet another huge giveaway.

this is lowkey ass, sorry guys. forgive me😫🙏

had this idea all week and needed to put it into words before I do a comfort blurb. k cool bye x

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NSFW LOGAN HOWLETT HEADCANONS

fem!reader, mdni. 1k words

I have a problem, I don’t even know what to say anymore

also each era of him is so different?? and I couldn’t decide what one to stick with, so these are kinda all over the shop. but the premise of his character is the same

✮ foreplay hcs:

heavy on foreplay. likes to kiss and touch on you, very very slow to work you up. he takes his time, kissing at your neck and squeezing at your thighs. pawing at your hips if you’re sitting on his lap. he's teasing and playful: slaps and grabs your ass when you go by, holds your tits when hugging you from behind, kisses your neck when you’re cuddling on the couch. nothing has to even come from it, he just likes the intimacy of casual foreplay

✮ oral hcs:

he does this thing where before you suck him off, he’ll hold his dick and line his head over your lips. just guiding a bead of precum over your mouth, outlining the plump of each lip before easing in and gliding across your tongue. heavy on eye contact as he does it! and when your lips wrap around him, he’ll hold your face. large hands cupping your cheeks, thumbs brushing over the apples as you relax your mouth more and more around him. he’ll hold your hair, pushing it out of your face and keeping your eyes clear

he’s mean and teasing when he eats you out. takes forever to give you what you want. kisses and nibbles your inner thighs for ages, licks over the fabric of your underwear just beside your clit, brushes his beard just over your pubic bone just to watch you twitch. he holds your hands as he teases you just so you can’t grab and hold his face. makes you wait for it! and when he does give in, it’s so so good you forget why you were even wound up in the first place. he also curls his tongue up inside, just saying. like he actually eats you out! makes out with your puss, kisses it, slobbers on it, spits on it, gently taps it, strokes over your thighs to calm you if it gets too much, kneads into your hips, whispers into it, praises you, verbally cherishes you, holds your thighs to his head so you can’t squirm away

✮ position hcs:

he likes sex in the shower and holding you against the tiles. loves how the water beads on your chest and how good you feel pressed against him under the water. likes when you grab onto him when you lose balance and footing, digging into his back and shoulders. the acoustics! moans and slap like noises reverbing!!  

cowgirl on the couch is another good one. likes to bury his face in your tits and grab and squeeze at your back. he likes it when you think you’re in control, when really you’re not. he lets you rock and wind over him, trying your best to cum before your knees give in. but he’d help out bc he’s nice – holding your hips slightly in the air as he slumps his position and then just fucks up into you 

prefers missionary. likes to look you in the eyes while you fuck. likes to have you wrapped around him (arms and legs). it’s good for all hours of the day: early morning, before a nap in the middle of the day, late at night. gets to fuck you nice and slow and deep. loves when you moan and whine against his lips. he gets to swallow your sounds and play with your hair and touch your tits and hold your thighs and and and AND 

when he’s doing you from behind, he has one hand on your hip the other on the back of your neck and his fingers trail up into your hair and grabs gentle fistfuls of hair

✮ random hcs (bc I can’t stop):

gentle lover! softly dominant! 

can go a fair few rounds bc of crazy stamina

when he’s fucking you (on top) he... rests his forehead against yours!! softly grunts against your lips!! kisses your cheek and chin and nose!! whispers praises and compliments against your lips!! sandwiches his chest to yours!! hikes your legs over his shoulders or hips or thighs!! he’s slow with the strokes and occasionally surprises you with a snappy jab!! buries his face in the crook of your neck when you do the same to him!! bruises your throat with kisses!! sucks your nipples and kisses your tits!! digs into your hips!! 

you have to cum at least once before he even gets his dick out. they’re not my rules, sorry

holds your face when you fuck. very handsy and grabby. touchy and always holding some part of you. wandering hands

he loves the sound of the bed when you fuck. the headboard slamming against the wall and the bed frame creaking in the same rhythm as his thrusts

thigh riding anyone?

he plays with your clit too. either strumming it in a similar rhythm to strokes or with a vibrator pressed up against you. he kinda sandwiches it between you so he can feel it against his base

he grunts and groans but they’re often hushed and hoarse bc he’s not overly vocal. he’s not quiet, but he’s not loud. a good balance to let you know that it feels good

he’s an actual man. not a pussy footing dude that doesn’t know what he’s doing. he’s also ancient and he’s been around (what a whore) but that just further aids his experience

he can handle you if you’re bigger than him. again, he’s a man. he knows what he’s doing and can assure you forever and forever if you don’t believe it. like the “what about it?” attitude and its so hot

he weaponises his happy trail and biceps bc he knows you love them. and he does it to either make you forgive him if you’re pissed at him or tease you when you’re busy

he knows casual acts of strength and dominance turns you on. so he holds things for you, opens things for you, carries things for you, brings you things, makes you things. big on acts of service and physical touch!! but also! he doesn’t do those things bc he thinks something may come of it. he’s just like that and he wants to take care of you

king of “oh, yeah,”s and “I know,”s and “mhm-hm,”s and “that’s it,”s and “fuck,”s. smooth dirty talker

aftercare is TOP NOTCH btw!

gonna go cry in my pillow. also apologies if this is ass, I had word vomit and had too many ideas at once