dating Logan Howlett would include…

WARNINGS: smutty. p in v, oral sex, fingering, breeding kink, orgasm teasing/control, mentions of aggressive/risky sex, (language, obviously), etc. - [🔞]

CHARACTERS: James “Logan” Howlett (MARVEL/X-MEN/WOLVERINE)

🐾 .*.. 🩹

- possessive smacks on the ass when you pass him in the hall.

- all talk, but no bite (he would never actually hurt you).

- routine scalp massages (on both ends), usually ending in you both being passed out on the other’s bed.

- having to label what food is yours, or he will eat it.

- constantly scolding him for his chapped lips…where he continuously looses the chapsticks you graciously lend him (he always buys you more).

- playful banter that usually ends with you bent over whatever flat surface is nearby.

- having to get used to loud chewing. i mean, it’s Logan. what do you expect?

- not much physical show of affection in public- that’s reserved for behind closed doors. (an occasional press of his lips to your forehead, or his hand on the small of your back is as far as he’s willing to put on display for the student’s prying eyes).

- thriving off of each other’s warmth at night- tangled up in each other under some thin duvet.

- country, bluegrass, and old as fuck music. don’t you dare even think about turning on “that shitty music you like so much” around him.

- being turned on by your makeup on him in some way— lipstick prints smeared along the collar of his white t-shirt- your mascara running down your face and smearing onto his fingers when he wipes it off.

- (^) just you making an absolute mess on him in general. he fucking loves it.

- needing to take sharp intakes of breath in between his kisses, since he physically can hold his breath for much longer than the “average mutant”.

- rough, meaningful sex. there is no such thing as a ‘quickie’ in his book. he wants to savor your moments of vulnerability.

- more teeth than tongue. he wants to feel how you squirm under him when his canines sink into your lips, shoulders, and inner thighs.

- (^) lovebites and hickeys. you’re not allowed to leave the house unless there’s something that’s marking you as taken. as his.

- wearing his clothes when he’s gone for long periods of time.

- long motorcycle rides, usually at night. (he makes you wear a helmet and plenty of protective leather, much to his enjoyment).

- soaking in your scent. he always knows when your needy. he can smell it on you.

- oh, and he smells like cedar wood and pine. Maybe a bit of cigar smoke- his natural sweat smell he can’t seem to get rid of? Something Iike that.

- (^) him going absolutely feral when he can smell himself on you- his cologne, cigars- just his general aura on you is such a massive turn on for him.

- lots of loving nips and kisses, though. constantly has his lips pressed against the nape of your neck or crown of your skull.

- sleeps with you in his arms. no way in hell you’re allowed to wake up before him.

- face sitting. he wants every pound of you on his mouth and nose, his arms wrapped up and around your thighs, pushing your cunt into his tongue.

- wanting to feel good too. no matter how hard he’s been going down on you, he wants release, too.

- praise. lots of shrewd language and name-calling.

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

“fuck, that’s my good fucking girl- you’re doing so good, sweetheart- so pretty all sweaty and wet cuzzah’ me, huh?”

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

- face fucking. he’ll stop no matter how close he is to his peak if you need him to, but he wants it so far down your throat. and you better swallow every last drop.

- breeding kink? idk i just feel like he’s super into seeing you carry his kid (only when you’re ready, though. he of all people knows what a big deal pregnancy is).

- decent aftercare. he at least puts some amount of effort into it; probably brings you a glass of lukewarm water, a damp towel from his bathroom, maybe one of his t-shirts if he thinks of it.

- expect to wait a while for him to say “i love you” back. he’s been hurt. too many times. he loves you, he breathes you, he craves you. he just doesn’t know if he’s ready to actually admit that to himself yet, let alone to you.

Moon Knight System Headcannons/Imagines

WARNINGS: smut. mentions of oral sex, fingering, hickeys, masochism, etc, etc. ((lots of fluff too, though!)) - [🔞]

CHARACTER(S): Marc Spector/Steven Grant/Jake Lockley (MARVEL/Moon Knight)

☕️ .*.. 📚

STEVEN GRANT:

- Obviously, he’s a nerd. That’s a given.

- You probably meet him by the fountains, wanting to sit and enjoy a meal, only to overhear him blabbering to some poor statue-actor.

- You’d approach him, and he’d immediately stand and offer you his seat, offering to take your photo.

- But you’d smile, shake your head, and laugh, rather sitting and patting the concrete fountain’s ledge with a welcoming aura about you.

- “actually, i was wondering if i could join you. i may be a bit more talkative than this chap.”

- and in what world would he to say ‘no’ to some pretty lady who wanted to listen to him talk about his shitty day at work?

- you two hit it off pretty quickly- and exchanged numbers after the first few times you’d ’accidentally’ bump into him with a meal in hand at the fountain late at night.

- when you two start dating, you naturally spend a lot of your time at his place, as it’s a homey, (messy), but homey atmosphere you grew to love.

- your first date is some overpriced vegan diner, before you both realize you’d much rather spend your time together in some thrift store, buying an unhealthy amount of overused books and jackets you’ll only wear once.

- always has messy hair. loves, loves, loves when you play with it or swipe it off of his forehead for him.

- constantly has chapped lips. he can rely on you to dig through your purse and press some chapstick to his lips whenever you notice him picking at the dry skin, grateful for your preference of cucumber-pear flavored beeswax.

- probably smells like old paper and some cheap pine and timber wood cologne- whatever Marc buys, he uses.

- he’s a touchy lover, you’d quickly learn, when you’d first kissed his cheek during a movie night- wanting to test the boundaries a bit; get a sense for what he was okay with.

- weather it be his fingers brushing against your hip when you’d read at the library with him, letting his fingerprints warm themselves under the fabric of your sweater,

- or if you two decide to go for a walk, his pinky laced with yours, or his thumb around the loophole of your jeans, keeping you near him in the overwhelming crowds of London.

- his confidence grows enormously when you’d mutter “how handsome (he) looks in that button up”, and he’d purposely wear it more often around you.

- he’s an insomniac. he hates that you refuse to fall asleep until he does, but it motivates him to try and fall asleep. you being there with him makes it a little less scary to give into slumber.

- (but if he refuses to sleep, which happens occasionally after a week of bad ‘nightmares’, you’ll spend as long as you can awake with him, either reading to him, or letting him read to you- helping him solve his stupid word puzzles or letting him teach you how to solve a Rubix cube).

- kisses. tickles. anything to have an excuse to touch you.

- he likes to press his chapped lips against your collarbone, particularly the spot just below your throat, where his lips fit perfectly against the prominent bone.

- he’s a gentle lover- but once you get him riled up, it’s hard to get him to slow his eagerness.

- he needs guidance. he’s only ever been with one or two girls- but never to this stage in the relationship. the only experience he really has is his own hand, and the laptop he has stored away for his…’quiet time’ at night.

- he wants to taste you. to have his tongue lap up at your aching core, his eyes never leaving your own as his fingers splay out over your lower stomach, rubbing circles into the dip of your belly button, mimicking his tongue on your swollen clit.

- your fingers in his curls? jesus, he’s a mumbling mess.

- he’s so talkative- constantly praising you as he helps you strip down the last of your clothes, just looking at you. drinking your dimpled skin in under the shitty lights of his studio flat.

- “gods above, you’re so beautiful, love. so, so pretty. all for me. my pretty girl.” he’d mumble over and over again, tugging at his slacks to free himself, practically bursting in his briefs just at the sight of you.

- he’d constantly make sure you’re okay with this- with him. any hesitancy in your gaze and immediately he’s splaying fingers through your scalp, muttering apologies and quick kisses to your temple.

- no matter how desperate he is to take you, to make your his, he’d wait a million years and survive the field of reeds all over again if you weren’t ready. he’d wait for you. no matter how long it takes.

MARC SPECTOR:

- you guys met through the café you work at, as he had stoped in regularly for straight black coffee every morning, usually right when you would start the first batch of coffee beans for the day.

- he’d find little notes written on the mugs you’d hand him- something like a small smiley face next to his misspelled name (which he had corrected the next time, and you’d never spelled it wrong again), which would quickly evolve into hearts or stars the longer he became a ‘regular’.

- he’d finally asked you out once Jake had convinced him enough, and was pleased when you had eagerly said yes.

- the first date happened out of town, where he had eagerly picked you up early Saturday morning, and drove almost two hours out to a ‘nearby’ baseball game.

- pretty sure he cherished the time with you in the car ride there and back rather than at the actual game, though.

- you joyously sang along to half of the songs that came up on the radio, him beaming with pride at your knowledge to almost every one of his favorite artists (probably country/hard rock music who are we kidding)

- he kissed you on your doorstep that night, and immediately he knew he was smitten with you.

- He’s absolutely hates the idea of being seen out and about without something that symbolizes he’s yours, and your his.

- a necklace, a ring, a hickey- just something, anything to remind him of you throughout the day.

- i read a fanfic a few months ago about how he would have a thing for lipstick- about how he sees it smeared across his lips after a heavy make out session in one of the many mirrors around the apartment, and absolutely loses it- like- goes feral, and i agree wholeheartedly.

- any compliment you give him goes straight to his head; a retort, some snarky comment, anything- (he immediately follows his teasing with a small, grateful smile, or a pinch to your ass, though).

- oh yeah- loves your ass. he’s definitely an ass to tits or thighs guy- loves the way it looks in his sweatpants- how you fill them so much better than he does. (nah on a serious note though- Oscar is packing cake)

- if you two ever have to go on long car trips, he’ll gladly allow you to drive rather than him. he likes the soothing sound of the car and sleeping with his legs splayed up on the dash (Jake scolds him for it later, dw).

- you call him your “passenger princess” though? immediately he’s never riding shotgun with you again.

- he smells like Steven (obviously, they share the same body), but with more evident notes of sweat and his preferred shampoo.

- NEAT FREAK ALERT!! he constantly is cleaning up after Steven, mumbling out curses as he finds yet another misplaced book or pen.

- okay- unpopular opinion, but does anyone else think he might be a little autistic? he has an extremely hard time verbally showing his emotions, and is very physically responsive to everyone around him- would much rather text you than call you… (am i over reading him orrr??)

- he’s an ‘actions speak louder than words’ kinda lover. he shows his love through his displays and simple favors rather than through his words, and he receives love best that same way. he wants to see you show him how much you love him.

- contrary to popular belief, i think he’s actually pretty gentle in bed.

- don’t get me wrong, he’s not Steven gentle, but he’s not rough.

- massive stamina. like- you have to work for him to fully come undone.

- yeah, he likes teasing. you wanna cum? you better fucking ask him first, or you’re both gonna be at this all night.

- probably likes it in his car the best- likes the small, cramped space where he is easily able to grab you.

- …and because he likes the thrill of possibly getting caught.

- similar to Steven, he’s pretty mouthy in the moment-not talkative, but loud.

- lots of under-the-breath comments, curses, and groans.

- “fuck, baby- you look so good- you take me so good, yeah? fuck, fu-fuck- you love it, huh? tell me you love it. take it all- doing so good, so fucking good for me.”

- his aftercare is pretty shitty, but at least he tries- he’ll hold you there for a beat, panting into the back of your neck, his fingers still gripping roughly at your hip, before he’ll pull out gingerly and pad to his bathroom, bringing you a slightly damp towel and a bottle of lukewarm water, helping you sit up and drink, and clean yourself off.

- he loves you, though. just doesn’t say it as much as he shows it.

JAKE LOCKLEY:

- i know it’s stereotypical, but you both meet in a bar.

- you’re immediately intriguing to him- the way you carry yourself, the way you gingerly sip on some strong drink you had ordered,

- the way you shamelessly stare at him across the bar’s counter.

- immediately he approaches you, ordering you another one of whatever disgustingly girly drinks you seemed to like so much, and couldn’t help but charm you.

- just a little.

- you were quite pretty, anyway.

- he offered you a ride home, and in your drunken state, you agreed, so much so that you linked your arm with his joyously as he took you to his cab, and held his hand the entire way back to your apartment, where you were seemingly sober enough to direct him (in the general direction) of its location.

- he left you with his number in your phone, labeled ‘J.L.’, letting you back inside your apartment safely for the night, before he drove back to the shared flat with you in mind.

- the next day, he received a call from an unknown number, only to hear your frantic voice on the other end, talking about “how sorry you are for bothering him last night after one too many drinks”, claiming you were “a lightweight” and “weren’t keeping track”.

- and to your surprise, he responded with a simple “you can make it up to me by saying yes to a date, quierido.”

- and after the first three dates, he had welcomed you into his (Steven’s) apartment.

- he trusted you more than he would admit to himself- scolding himself for falling so quickly for you.

- the second you tore off your baggy jacket, revealing that cute little white blouse though? he couldn’t help himself.

- his kisses are more eager than the other two- more teeth than tongue, wanting to draw blood- wanting to taste how sweet you really are.

- he’s even more eager when he realized you seem into it; when you admit you’re a masochist, too.

- he takes this fully to his advantage, stripping you quickly and efficiently, wasting no time in slipping his fingers past your underwear he was too excited to tear off of you, and into your cunt, relishing in the texture of your gummy walls.

- he wants to hear you. he’s not nearly as verbal as the other two, but he definitely wants to to hear you.

- “let me hear you, chica- Estás muy linda, taking my fingers, pretty girl. so pretty, so perfect.”

- lots of praises and affirmations- he’s more focused on making you feel good, so don’t be disappointed if you’re the only one getting naked every once in a while.

- but oh, how desperate he gets for you after being gone for long periods of time.

- he’ll get home after a long night and just want to hold you. nothing sexual, not immediately anyway- he just craves the overall sense of peace from being near you.

- his head in your lap as you comb through his hair, listening to the TV play some old chicago baseball game, or just sit in the ‘silence’ of you humming softly to him.

- he likes seeing you happy, so if that means staying in bed with you just a couple minutes longer, he doesn’t mind skipping ‘work’ that night.

- he smells musky. usually of leather and cigars, as he constantly (to your dismay and heavy scolding) is smoking.

- he’s the best of the three at aftercare, surprisingly.

- blueberry pancakes afterwards, and he’ll bring you a hot cup of tea or coffee (depending on your mood) after a particularly ‘rough night’, followed by a soothing massage in bed, or him cleaning you up in a hot bath to some romantic, Spanish-jazz record.

- he likes being taken care of too, though.

- he’s more of a physical-lover, preferring to be near you and touching you rather than gift giving and words of affirmation.

- he likes those too though, don’t get me wrong.

- as long as you love him for who he is; accept that there’s no changing him, in what world is he to not fall for you?

[🥃]

okay but whoever Wolverine’s costume designer was needs a raise and a big fat juicy kiss

“Technical Difficulties” - [Steven Grant x Reader]

WARNINGS: fluff, single use of profanity

CHARACTERS: Steven Grant (Moonknight; MARVEL)

🌙 .*.. ☎️

Your eyes flitted over the open book in your lap, a soft yawn leaving your plump lips as you flipped one of the yellowing pages, your eyes droopy with exhaustion (and possibly a hint of boredom).

Lulling your head back into the large leather couch, your eyes hazenly scanned the large studio apartment, analyzing what a mess it really was.

A cozy, almost welcoming mess, but a mess nonetheless.

You stood, stretching with a slight groan as your back popped, and you tossed the old, hardcover book on the messy coffee table by your calves height, your eyes scanning the papers that littered the surface, analyzing the Egyptian studies and documents for only a moment, before you tore your gaze away from the “fascinating hieroglyphs”.

A soft, oh-so-sweet accent rang through the flat, drawing your gaze through the seemingly endless bookshelves.

Steven.

The strong cockney accent had you walking through the maze, your fingers dragging along the spines of the old, once-read books on each shelf, rounding a corner to be greeted by the adorable sight of none other than your loving boyfriend, Steven Grant, hunched over his brand new phone.

Paper manuals splayed out over the already cluttered wooden desk in a frantic splash of white and black text, illuminated by a small desk-lamp as you raised your eyebrows in amusement.

A small pair of “grandma glasses” hung precariously close to the tip of his nose, slipping lower before he would mumble a complaint under his breath and push them back up with a sigh.

“Did you call for me, baby?” You asked, rubbing at your eyes with a soft yawn, before running your hands through your hair, undoing any knots.

“Ah- there’s my beautiful darling!”

He immediately seemed a pound lighter when his posture straightened up from the device in his hand, his chocolate brown eyes meeting yours for a brief moment, a smile of simple relief on his chapped lips.

“Were you sleeping, love?” He quickly questioned, his eyebrows knitting at the sight of your sleepy gaze on him, but smiled and nodded when you shook your head negatively.

“No. Was just bored- i was reading one of your books and just could not find any interest in the concept of worshipping cats,”

He chuckled, faking a face of offense at your distaste in such an interesting matter.

Well, to him anyway.

You wandered to his side, elbows first on the desk, ignoring the stacked papers as your eyes curiously draped over the phone in his hand, noticing how it still was flashing the bright white greeting screen, the word “hello” in different languages flashing slowly over the screen like some sophomore’s lazy slideshow presentation.

“I uh- well, I’ll admit i’m still not fond of your begging me to get a new phone,”

He chuckled out almost bashfully, pushing his reading glasses up the bridge of his crooked, tanned nose once again.

“I cant figure this bloody thing out, love.”

You smiled down at the device, tilting your head in your hand, a small laugh passing your freckled lips.

“I did not beg. I simply…asked. It’s 2025, Steven. You couldn’t keep using that damn flip phone.”

Steven scoffed, a small, playful frown on his face as he cocked his head oh-so-cutely to the side, scrunching his nose at the fact that you were probably right.

You always were, though.

He smiled, nudging your shoulder with his own playfully, scooting back out of the desk’s main area in the rolling office chair.

“I’m just askin’ for sum help, darling,”

He smiled lovingly up at you, like you were the most angelic being out there. Like he was so hopelessly in love with you.

How true that really was, you couldn’t imagine.

Sighing, you gingerly took the phone out of his hand and began the basic set up, casually pointing at buttons and certain things he should remember in terms of having a smartphone, like where the flashlight ability was, etc.

“Alright, you need a password. Something that’ll keep your phone locked, until you wanna use it.”

His eyebrows curiously knitted together, as if that was the silliest thing in the world.

“A…a passcode? Ooo, it’s like a riddle every time i want to contact you! Well- except ill already know the answer every time-”

Your heart swelled with a small huff, his innocence too much for your corrupted thoughts as you laughed.

“Uh- yeah. Like a riddle. So….?”

He pursed his lips for a moment, scratching at his black curls that were messily unstyled and stuck to his forehead.

“Make it…make it your birthday, yeah? That way I’ll never forget, and you’ll always be able to get onnit.”

He looked up at you, his hands reaching out for your hips, drawing you to his seated form, letting you stand between his thighs with a soft smile, one that absolutely melted you, and you couldn’t resist.

“…my birthday?”

He nodded eagerly, rubbing mindless circles into your hips through your loose trousers, shrugging.

“Would you rather it be our anniversary date-?”

God how dearly you loved this man.

“No, no- i just-”

He leaned closer to you, leaning into your stomach as he buried his head into your tummy, nestling his forehead there.

“I don’t deserve you, Steven.”

The man guffawed, and playfully smacked the back of your thighs with a small huff, chuckling into your tummy.

“Now why would you ever say such a thing? Course you deserve me, love. you deserve the whole bloody universe, really,” You smiled, running your fingers through his hair with a puff of acceptance, shrugging, before moving your attention back to his phone, typing away at his contacts, which consisted of, well, no one.

“i’ll add my number in, yeah? you want anyone else in here yet? Donna, maybe?”

The woman’s name brought forth a shudder from the man snuggling against you earning a bark of laughter from your glossy lips.

“alright, i’ll take that as a ‘no’.”

Pressing a few numbers, you inputted your number into his contacts, labeling it with the simple first letter of your name, and a brown heart emoji.

You cheekily pinned yourself to the top of his chat thread, but didn’t bother to tell him how you did it, or how to undo it.

“alright, you’re all set up, sweet boy,” you purred out, tugging softly on some of his curls, the raven strands of hair that stuck to his forehead being swiped away by your fingers gingerly.

“i’m probably gonna take a nap, if that’s okay? might steal your bed- that couch is awful for my back-”

He nodded, his lips brushing over the skin above your pant line, where his fingers had rested over your belly button under your blouse, curiously tracing the soft, speckled skin and stretch marks around your hips.

“y-yeah, that’s alright love. i’m gonna finish this tour outline and then i’ll join.” He smiled up at you, shifting so his chin rested on the plush of your abdomen, a lazy smile tugging at his face when you pulled the magenta glasses off his crooked nose.

“handsome chap.”

“pretty gal.”

You both chuckled at each other’s words, before you leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth, and pulled away with a soft grumble of a ‘mm’ from his chapped lips, and he scooted back into the large pine desk with a soft, overworked sigh.

“don’t be too long, okay? ‘s cold without you in bed,” You mumbled, wandering further and further away from him in open space of his flat, to the sand ring round his bed, where you kicked off your house shoes and socks, and climbed into his crisp sheets with a soft sigh, smiling at his ‘won’t be much longer!’ from across the room.

Your eyes fluttered shut when your nose inhaled his scent on one of his many pillows, a content groan leaving your lips as you laid on your side, yawning.

Sleep welcomed you more warmly with the knowledge that Steven had an easier way to contact you.

…

And it was a plus that he had a picture feature now.

…

you were definitely going to abuse that opportunity.