Btw, my current disaster bisexual-conjured fantasy threesome: Logan/Wolverine and Sevika. They can do with me what they want. I know their banter would be priceless. They'd be destined to forge a dream team (preferably tag teaming and sharing me) if they weren't from different IPs. Like, best buddy chemistry of the charts, not desiring each other because ´Sevika is lesbian (obviously), but they do get along splendidly. Two old guard veterans who survived more than they want, both othered and from oppressed, either exploited or vilainized, groups, deeply conflicted, morally compromised, scarred anti-heros, middle-aged, chain smokers, running on liquor.
That's my contribution to Pride Month 2025. Have fun with that crossover.
These two are my bisexual Roman Empire.
You could even seamlessly incorporate Arcane-verse Logan. In this story universe, he is an experiment by Singed to test a shimmer derivative in a permanent application, since we know that shimmer is a mutagen. That is Arcane-verse Logan's origin story. He is a step in the research to create Warwick.
Fuck. Now I have to follow that storytelling train of thought…
Imagine: Singed, in one of his underground hell-labs, trying to stabilize shimmer's regenerative potential through "voluntary" (read: coerced) human trials. Logan is the result. Fast healing, slowed aging, pain resistance, berserker mode integrated (not because of mindless rage, but because the pain never goes away; it’s just always beneath the surface, humming like a goddamn tuning fork.)
Logan is the prototype. Warwick comes later.
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So, about the "Logan eats his cum out of your pussy after fucking you hard" musings (1|2)...
content: explicit, cunnilingus, face riding, overstimulation, vaginal penetration, face fucking, light d/s, porn without plot, 18+ only!
(Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. Felt very insecure about my writing lately. I think it's been more than half a year since I found the confidence to post a full chapter/one-shot. So, I'm terrified as fuck sharing this and already see me ending up hating my writing again. If you find that you enjoy this piece, please let me know what you think, as I could really use some encouragement. Enjoy the meal. Cheers!)
H U N G E R (Logan Howlett x fem!reader) || AO3
Logan's breath saws through his throat as he lies on his back, shoulders taut, chest rising and falling. Sweat is slicking his skin, beading along the ridges of his pecs and seeping into the already thoroughly soaked mattress under his back. The remnants from his release still ripple through his muscles in gentle waves. With each surge, his fingers twinge into the flesh of your ass.
You kneel over his stomach, hands braced against his shoulders and your wet pussy, freshly filled with his cum, drools over his abs, sticky thighs tremble against his side. Your breath's just as ragged as Logan's, heart beating so fast you taste a faint hint of copper on your tongue. The insistent thud in your temple matches the throbbing in your cunt.
His eyes are open, barely, glowing slivers of charred umber half-shuttered beneath thick lashes.
"You're such a beautiful man," you hear yourself whisper, voice more air than sound.
One of your hands finds his forehead, follows the line of his dense, coarse hair, and threads through his beard, thumb sneaking between his lips. Logan's teeth take the invitation, closing around the nail and pad of your thumb. The air he exhales hits your skin in gusts, fanning hot against your knuckles.
A tickle jitters through your skin when he starts to suckle on your thumb. For a deep, controlled breath. Another. With the third, he exhales a ragged mutter, "Stay right there. Don't move."
You don't. Can't. Your legs are shaking, cunt sore and your whole body still aching with the echo of the thrusts he drove into you with a brutal pace like he was trying to flee whatever haunted him.
Logan shifts beneath you. Just enough to slide down and simultaneously pull your hips in, dragging your cunt toward his face. You shiver as he inhales into the heat he can't get enough of.
You're unaware of it because it's happening behind your back and he's not reaching to touch or stroke, but his cock's already rising again, twitching with slow insistence against his stomach, sticky and leaking as his nose nuzzles your mound.
His tongue flicks out once, slow, tasting the mess he left inside you. When he groans, you gasp.
The low, guttural sound reverberates from his chest straight into your cunt. His arms wrap around your thighs like steel bars, and he hauls you forward for your cunt to hover over in reach of his tongue.
"You're not going anywhere," he mutters, voice wrecked, voice soft. "Let me taste what I did to you."
The first press of his lips is greedy. Teeth find your outer labia and nibble the skin before his tongue flicks out. The elastic piece of wet muscle curls into your folds, plows through the slick heat they expose, and when it finds your entrance, it snakes in. Logan moans into your cunt the moment he tastes his cum mixed with yours.
Your hips jolt. He doesn't let you escape.
"Uh-uh," he growls, muffled because your cunt swallows the sounds. His grip locks tighter as your legs try to lift. "Don't you dare run from me."
Your breath stutters. "Logan—fuck, wait, I—"
"No." He buries his face deeper. His nose nudges your clit, dragging his tongue through your slit like he's trying to mark you from the inside out. "I'm not done."
His mouth is ravenous.
Every lick is a claim. Every flick of his tongue over your overstimulated clit, every low growl sends vibrating into your core, etching an invisible, wordless command into your body: You hold still.
The slick noises he makes working you over are obscene, coaxing wet, skin-slapping, slurps drench the whines and moans you can't hold back.
"That's right," he pants. "Keep making these pretty sounds. They shut up all the noise in my head."
You shake your head as a salve of whimpers spills from your lips. With a sudden move, you try once more to pull away, trembling, hips jerking from the onslaught of pleasure tangled with exhaustion, but Logan's arms only curl tighter. He shifts the angle—one leg bent beneath you now for more leverage—and keeps devouering you, keeps sucking out his seed and your juices.
"Don't tap out. Don't run," he mutters between slurps. It's not a command. It's a plea. "Don't stop. Let me stay here."
He's beseeching you. For this moment. For the grounding you offer when the world slips out from under him. How could you deny him when his voice breaks like that? When the man who could tear you to shreds is choosing to cling to you, to chase comfort and escape in your cunt?
You can't. Hence, you hold still. You let him have it. Even when his mouth hurts as much as it feels good.
A moan slips, then a hiss. You bite your lip. You grunt before Logan's mouth finally rips a sharp cry from your chest.
Your legs tremble, clenching around his head, grinding against his face because you need to give him all you have left. And when his tongue circles your clit, when the sound of him whimpering and melting vibrates between your thighs you scream his name, curse the strength of his indestructible body, call him a cruel bastard.
Helpless, wrecked, you stumble into a pathetic chant that betrays how insatiable you are. "Yes, yes, yes, yes—"
Both your hands reach for his head, your fingers twist in his hair. The weight of your body descends on his face, but Logan doesn't slow. His tongue flattens, drags up your slit, and as he sucks your clit between his lips again, your vision stutters white.
Your spine hollows, toes curl. Every fiber in your body yanks at your nervous system, desperate for a respite. There's nothing to hold on to, nowhere to escape. There's no air, no time, no space. Just Logan beneath you, tongue thrusting.
"Fuck—Logan—"
Your voice cracks and splinters, coming out as a whisper and a sob in the same breath.
"Keep going," he rasps, pulling back just enough to speak before diving in again, licking with long strokes. "I need more."
But you're not sure you have anything left to give. Your pussy's too sensitive, fucked raw, and the slick suction of his mouth is too much. It's too much... and yet, not enough.
"C'mon, be a good girl. You still got more for me. Let me hear it."
You feel his teeth close around your swollen clit. Carefully, tenderly, but igniting just enough searing pain to cut through pent-up overstimulation. Your mouth opens around a scream that doesn't fully form, shredded by the tremor tearing through you. You ride it out on his face, hips stuttering, dragging slick across his tongue until thought shatters and all that's left is the burn between your thighs.
His teeth release your clit. One hand slides off your ass to press against your lower belly. "Right there. I feel you. Let it go, dear. Come on my tongue."
He returns to deep licks, sloppy and wet and hungry, soothing the hot sting of his tender bite.
Your body obeys him before your mind does. Your jaw goes slack. A sob bursts from your chest as you come again. Harder and messier than before, pussy soaking his face and contracting like she's trying to suck his tongue into your gut.
You collapse forward, catching yourself with one hand against the headboard, the other tugs at his hair.
Logan holds you through every fierce clench of your muscles, sucking your clit through each spike jerking you, slowly retreating along with the intensity of the tremours in your crotch.
You feel light, floaty, dizzy, barely notice how you drop to your side, sinking into the mattress, panting.
Silence floods your skull, cushions the edges of the previous spikes in your nerves. They're still ablaze, but radiate with a steady glow that reminds you of the awe of fairy lights.
"Good girl." The sound of Logan's praise sounds like it's approaching from far away, but his voice tucks the corners of your mouth into a tired smile anyway.
The mattress dips as he moves, rolling to his side to reposition, draw closer and nestles his body against yours, his hard, leaking cock presses flush and hot between your hip and his abdomen.
A warm exhale escapes your lips as his hand trails down your stomach, over the sticky mess he's left leaking from your cunt. His fingers dip between your thighs, making you hiss.
"You're still open for me," he rasps, gaze locked where his fingers are now spreading your folds again, watching the creamy slick trail down. "Still fuckin' needy, aren't you?"
Your head's too empty to answer. Instead, you nod, driven by the shudder under his hand meeting a body that's spent and still begging to be filled again.
Logan grins and you let him slide two fingers back into your sore cunt.
Slow. Deep.
Your breath catches. Your hips want to twitch, but stay still. Finally fucked into compliance.
"Goddamn…" he mutters. "So fuckin' good for me."
Your thighs try to fall together. Logan slaps the inside of one gently, making you gasp.
"Nuh-uh. You let me feel how warm you still are."Logan doesn't move fast, just curls his fingers inside you like he's testing how much room you have left for him to claim.
When he finally starts thrusting with lazy, indulgent strokes, you marvel at how delicious the wet, nasty slick of your cunt sounds. Can't really blame Logan's cock to squirm along the rhythm against your side.
"You got me hooked, sweetheart," he murmurs, thumb brushing your clit as he curls his fingers again. "Can't even breathe without wantin' to be inside you."
You whimper. Despite being wrung boneless, there's something in his voice that pulls you back to life. His fingers slip out. But before you can miss them, he's already flipping you onto your back.
His hands settle behind your knees and shove your thighs up, spreading you wide, your cunt expoed and soaked, still stretched from how deep he fucked you before.
"Yeah," he grunts. "Look at that."
His cock presses to your entrance, fat and slick and relentless. He doesn't slam in right away, just grinding his tip against your hole, watching your face, reading every twitch and wince and breathless sigh you make.
"You gonna take me again?" he asks, voice hoarse. "Even after all that?"
You nod, dazed.
"Tell me."
"I want it," you gasp. "I want it, Logan. Please."
He smiles with his teeth. Then thrusts in, slow but deep, dragging every inch into you until your walls flutter and clamp and stretch to fit him again.
This time, Logan fucks you slowly. Each push of his hips reaches deep.
He hums, savors, stares down at you like he's never seen anything more beautiful than the way you arch into him, hands clutching his forearms, face wrecked and begging for more.
"I could stay here forever," he rasps. "Inside you. Feelin' this heat, this cunt... fuckin' heaven."
You can't utter words. Only gasps. Soft cries. Whimpers. Instead of urging him with your mouth, your legs lock around his waist.
Logan takes the hint, forehead leaning against yours as he picks up the pace. Slaps echo in the air. Skin on skin, sweat on sweat, layered in your exhausted moans and his jagged grunts.
You're too wrung to come again. This is for him to get off on and for you to feel so safe and calm being this close to him, being one with him, rocking from and with his rhythm.
You tilt your chin, shift just enough. Noses brush. Lips melt into each other. Tongues tangle. You taste both of you. Time stretches. The separation between his body and yours dissolves. You could spend eternity like this. Alas…
"I'm close," Logan whispers into the kiss. "Can I have your mouth?"
You nod. "Feed me, Wolverine." He pulls out in one slow, dragging glide that leaves you hollow and twitching, your walls fluttering around nothing. The matress squeaks when he's sitting back on his haunches, fisting his cock at the base. The thick head, flushed and leaking, glistens. Pulsing veins strain skin into ridges along his shaft. The hoarse groans trembling from his throat fracture at the edges.
Logan's free hand finds the back of your head, hauling your back off the mattress. It's all his strength keeping you up; the support of your elbows, propped up framing your ribs, is non-existent.
His fingers curl tighter into your scalpt, angling your mouth open to shove his cock between your lips.The weight of him plunges into your throat as he fucks your face in gentle strokes, grinds across the wet slide of your tongue under, shivers at the suction around his crown. The motions of his hips grow erratic, challenging your gag reflex a little before he spills with a full-body jerk.
The cords in his neck pull tight, his abs flex and quiver, and his gaze never leaves your mouth as his cock kicks against your tongue. Thick, hot ropes of sticky salt and metallic tang coat your gums. Your throat flexes instinctively, swallowing around him, tongue dragging along the underside of his cock as he groans out your name like it's the only word he still remembers.
His grip loosens but doesn't fall away to keep you anchored as the pulses of his release slowly ebb, contraction by contraction.
"Fuckin' hell…" he mutters, voice ragged, almost reverent. He gently rocks his hips once more, then eases himself out.
A breathless curse from the depths of your chest chases the pop of his cock sliding out of your mouth. Your chest heaves in time with his.
You slump back onto the pillows; Logan flops next to you, one arm thrown over your belly.
His fingertips brush over your ribs, cupping your breast, thumb stroking absent circles around your nipple. The rough pad catches every so often on your damp skin.
Neither of you speaks. There's just the soft whistle of breath through his nose, the thud of your heart starting to slow, and the residual tremors still flaring in your thighs.
His voice breaks the quiet, low and rasped, "Y'allright?"
You hum, eyes closed, head lolling, caught by his shoulder. "Think you hollowed me out."
There's just enough strength in your limbs left to thread your thingers between his over your tit.
Logan snorts. A real laugh, brief and breathy. "I like you hollowed out," he says, mouth brushing the curve of your temple as he pulls closer until your cheek rests against his chest, over his heart. You feel the beat. It's steady now. Slower. Calm. "Makes you so eager and desperate to be filled wherever I can stuff my cock."
You wrap your arm over his waist, chuckling. "You're insatiable."
no thoughts. just Logan flat on his back, panting and digging his fingers into your ass. Your knees frame his face, muscles trembling as he eats his own cum out of your cunt after he had pinned you, held you down, fucked you like he might dissipate the second he slows down.
Sweat is slicking his chest. His cock’s already rising again, twitching with slow insistence against his stomach, sticky and leaking, but he's not reaching to touch and stroke. Not yet. Not when he has your cunt spread over his mouth. That's all he cares about. His lips latching on your clit, teeth nibbling the sensitive skin, tongue ploughing through your folds. His growls are low, muffled, swallowed into you, because he needs this, craving what he spilled inside you and how his cum mixes with the taste of your juices.
You try to tell him to slow down, try to give yourself a break, but the moment your muscles tense to lift your crotch, Logan's hands slide from your hands, arms wrap around your thighs, and his biceps lock you in place. "Don’t tap out. Don’t stop. Let me stay here." He's not begging, he's pleading. Vulnerability snarled in possessiveness, wrapped in the heat of someone who can tear you to shreds and chooses to hold. To devour and give more than you can take.
You whimper. You moan. You curse his hunger, his strength, but you hold that space for him. You grind against his face, let him drown in your pussy.
no thoughts. just Logan flat on his back, panting and digging his fingers into your ass. Your knees frame his face, muscles trembling as he eats his own cum out of your cunt after he had pinned you, held you down, fucked you like he might dissipate the second he slows down.
Sweat is slicking his chest. His cock’s already rising again, twitching with slow insistence against his stomach, sticky and leaking, but he's not reaching to touch and stroke. Not yet. Not when he has your cunt spread over his mouth. That's all he cares about. His lips latching on your clit, teeth nibbling the sensitive skin, tongue ploughing through your folds. His growls are low, muffled, swallowed into you, because he needs this, craving what he spilled inside you and how his cum mixes with the taste of your juices.
You try to tell him to slow down, try to give yourself a break, but the moment your muscles tense to lift your crotch, Logan's hands slide from your hands, arms wrap around your thighs, and his biceps lock you in place. "Don’t tap out. Don’t stop. Let me stay here." He's not begging, he's pleading. Vulnerability snarled in possessiveness, wrapped in the heat of someone who can tear you to shreds and chooses to hold. To devour and give more than you can take.
You whimper. You moan. You curse his hunger, his strength, but you hold that space for him. You grind against his face, let him drown in your pussy.
Edit: Turned this into a full 2000+ word erotica scne.
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