Ughh I Need Him - Tumblr Posts

yeah, you can call me a whore but i know for a fact that old man!logan calling me princess would cure me.

like just imagine sitting in his lap, all cozied up, wrapped perfectly between his muscular arms. thinking about his calloused fingers molding the flesh of your ass, firmly holding you still against him.

you shy away from him, pressing your face against his chest as his hands continue to work at your ass. his muscles tensing as you slowly grind against him, hesitant in giving into your aching desires.

he bring his hands up to cup your face, tracing his thumb against your bottom lip. his salt-and-pepper beard tickles your face as he showers you in gentle kisses.

“don’t be shy, princess.” he murmurs, his thumb slipping into your mouth, and your tongue wraps around him. you hollow your cheeks, and the wanton pop that follows when you release him slices the tension in the air.

“look at me.” he commands, tipping your chin upwards, and you look right at him through your mascara clumped eyelashes.

your vision is hazy, brain is fuzzy—but one thing’s for sure, you need him, carnally. your eyes almost light up when you spot the smirk forming at the corner of his mouth, seeing how in awe you are from the slightest touch from him.

“there you are, kiddo” he coos, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. “there’s my princess.”

obsessed with men who make you feel sexy for simply existing—who pop a boner whenever you look at them for too long; who swat at your ass every time you pass by; who can’t not wink at you when an innuendo is dropped. you’re always on their mind—the only person they desire, the only person they need.

woke up yearning to be with old man logan!!!!! like i just want to cook for him, cuddle him, and fuck the man forever! let me be his little housewife please and thank you<3

thinking about older!boyfriend logan howlett and his sweet little live-in girlfriend…

cw: MDNI, dom/sub dynamics, pet names, daddy!kink, dd/lg undertones

older!boyfriend logan who has always been a bit nefarious in his ways of making money, but you’ve never dared to question it—no one’s ever provided for you the way he does.

older!boyfriend logan who uses said money not only to take care of you, but to pamper you—at least once a week, he’s coming home with a new frilly little dress for you to wear (much too short to wear outside the house, these are just for him), a new pajama set, a hair clip, etc. it only makes sense that he’ll call you doll; he loves to dress you up like one.

older!boyfriend logan who will hand you the pretty wrapped up bag and arch a brow at you when you grab at it, yanking it back towards his chest and tsking: what do you say, princess? always to be followed by a sweet thank you, daddy.

older!boyfriend logan who expects to be entertained with a mock fashion show, and you’re more than eager to try on your new gifts for him. he’ll sit himself on the couch, thick thighs spread wide, lounging his wingspan over the back, damn near as long as the couch itself, and wait for you while your scurry off to change.

older!boyfriend logan who isn’t subtle about the way his eyes flit over your figure every single outfit. he’s purposely chosen ones that’ll tease at the tops of your thighs, revealing the swell of your ass if you move or bend just right. lacy little things that peak your nipples through, or some innocent pattern, like daisies, that hug your hips just right.

older!boyfriend logan who also makes no effort to hide the outline of his hardening cock in his slacks—you’ve been tactful, too. choosing to try them on by least to most revealing until all you’re left in is a pathetic excuse of a skirt; a sheer, baby-pink piece that you can see right through to the matching thong. you’ve looped the lace garter it comes with around your right thigh, the matching bralette squeezing your tits up.

you walk out sultry and slow, hands clasped behind your back and your bottom lip pulled up between your teeth. logan’s chest expands with air, his jaw set tight, and you notice the way he clenches his knuckles over the back of the couch.

“what do you think, daddy?” you whisper, words dripping with syrup as you stop in front of him.

he looks you over, silent snd stoic, the anticipation nearly too much to bear. but logan’s already made up his mind; this is certainly the outfit he’ll keep you in tonight.

he reaches a single hand forward, gently toying with the hem of the skirt.

“i love it, baby,” he says, and the way you beam upon his praise is enough to drive him mad. “c’mere,” he continues, using the same hand to pat one of his thighs.

you don’t waste a single moment, stepping closer until you’re able ease yourself onto his lap, straddling the breadth of him—solid, warm, safe. your arms weave around his neck as his hands find your hips, and you shiver when he leans forward, face disappearing into your neck. his lips tickle the sensitive skin, and you let your eyes fall shut, slipping into that perfect oasis of mindlessness he always sends you to.

“let daddy show you how much he loves it.”

x