elflutter - logan's girl
logan's girl

el | 20s | she/her[18+] multifandomabout / fic requests / ao3

799 posts

Tag Game From @silversprings-mp3! (hope It's Ok To Join In!!)

tag game from @silversprings-mp3! (hope it's ok to join in!!)

last song: rain sounds for sleeping pt 10 LOL (before that it was probably something from brat)

favorite color(s): pastels (especially light green/purple/pink) & earth tones

currently watching: x-men movies rewatch, interview with the vampire, the witcher (kinda abandoned that last one)

last movie(s): the wolverine (2013)

current obsessions: one mr. logan howlett (the audience gasps in shock), poolverine, the x-men in general but mostly logan, dragon age, d&d/ttrpgs

relationship status: taken!!

last thing I googled: "synonyms for grip" I'M WRITING FIC FOR KINKTOBER LEAVE ME ALONE

no pressure tags!! @eupheme, @avocado-writing, @joelsgoldrush, @superhoeva, @logansbaby, anyone else who wants to!! i'm still new here and would love to get to know everyone better hehe

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More Posts from Elflutter

4 months ago
 Mini Kinktober 2024
 Mini Kinktober 2024

— mini kinktober 2024

i am finally back! i have been devouring everyone's kinktober pieces, and i am so excited to finally join in! (18+ minors do not interact)

main masterlist

week 1 ✧ 10/6 - 10/12

✦ guard dog → dom/sub dynamics | sub!logan x dom!f!reader

week 2 ✧ 10/13 - 10/19

✦ clawplay + pain kink | logan x mutant!f!reader

✦ vampirism | vampire!logan x f!reader

week 3 ✧ 10/20 - 10/26

✦ logan in a rut | logan x mutant!f!reader

week 4 ✧ 10/27- 10/31

✦ threesome | logan x wade x reader

 Mini Kinktober 2024

i might end up writing more or less than this, but these are some of my ideas! i have never done kinktober before (i hope i am doing this right)

 Mini Kinktober 2024

dividers: @saradika-graphics, @strangergraphics, & @djarrex


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4 months ago

Kinktober #6

Kinktober #6

6. A/B/O Heats or Ruts // Sadism-Masochism // Anonymous Sex (Old Man Logan x Reader)

Kinktober #6

You see him at the bar most nights that you’re there, nursing a whiskey and keeping to himself. On the occasion he deigns to lift his gaze from his drink you always feel it on you, hot and heavy and oh so aware of every movement you make.

You like it. Your skin lights up beneath him, a little static dancing over you where his eyes settle. But every time you turn back to your fiancé and his dull friends and try to be interested in a conversation they have no intention of including you in. 

Why do you suffer through it? Well, things have been this way for so long now that you don’t know what they’d look like were they to change. Grit your jaw and bear it, it’s only the rest of your life, after all.

The man closes the gap the first time you enter the establishment alone. You swig down your beer, bitter and nasty but the cheapest thing they sell, grimacing at each hoppy mouthful. After a long moment he pulls back the stool in order to settle in next to you at the bar and you’re intensely aware of the size of him. 

“No boyfriend tonight?” he rumbles, broad fingers raising his glass to his lips.

“Fiancé,” you correct half-heartedly. Is he still your fiancé? It was a pretty vicious fight you got in not two hours ago, and right now the ring on your finger feels like a shackle. He picks up on your unease and chuckles, and oh, it is a lovely and rich sound.

“Mmm, sure.”

The two of you lapse back into silence, nursing your drinks. 

“We got into an argument,” you confess when you feel like more words are necessary. The stranger cocks a brow.

“He seems like an asshole.”

“What would you know?” you ask, desperate to defend for some reason. Pride, perhaps. He finally fixes you with a look, sunken hazel eyes boring into your soul. You are transfixed.

“Seen the way he treats you when you’re out together. Like you’re an annoyance. A second thought. Doesn’t deserve you, sweetheart.”

When his warm hand moves to rest on your thigh you don’t make any effort to shake it free. You let it stay there, possessive. You tap your nails on the pocked bar and consider his words.

The stranger moves in, closing the stale air between the two of you. His breath is warm on the shell of your ear as he speaks, gravelly velvet.

“Does he even make you come, honey?”

You should throw your drink in his face and slap him. Instead you feel your cheeks get warm.

“No,” you confess, a whisper. The stranger looks quietly smug at knowing this before you could even voice it. He swallows down the last of his liquor before standing, holding the hand that was on your thigh out to you as an invitation.

“Let me take care of you.”

You eye your beer, decide not to finish it, and take his hand.

“Can I get your name?”

“Maybe if you like what I do to you,” he states and your cunt floods.

He leads you out to a limo in the empty parking lot, sliding the key inside the door and holding it open for you. You cock your head to the side, silently asking a question.

“The driver,” he chuckles. Fuck. Yeah, okay, after hearing that laugh, he can do whatever he damn well likes to you. You’re going to fuck this limo driver in the backseat and he’s going to make you forget your fiancé’s goddamn name. 

The moment you enter into the limo he’s upon you. The door slams behind him as he holds your head in his hands, bringing your mouth to his for a rough kiss, claiming you as his. You let him as his beard scratches you. His tongue swipes against your own, hot and tasting of rich liquor, and his hands go for your jeans. You buck up into his touch and let him strip you without complaint, let him explore every inch of your skin he unveils. His hands are calloused but tender, caressing each new part of you he unveils, and when he touches between your legs? Oh, heaven. Heaven. 

Your clothes thrown across the backseat and him still fully in his suit he fucks you with his fingers, one hand pistoning in and out of you, the other rubbing rough circles on your clit. Your orgasm hits you with such force that it’s like a freight train - your head thrown back and eyes blurry with tears and stars as you squirt up the length of his thick forearm. Another one of those delicious chuckles as he licks his fingers clean.

“Did you know you could do that, baby?”

You shake your head, desperate for a repeat of it. The stranger doesn’t leave you hanging. He wrestles with his fly just enough to free his cock, hard and red and dropping with need for you. The size of it is something to behold but you don’t get a chance to adjust before he’s lining himself up and slowly pushing inside. Each inch is a gorgeous stretch that takes your breath away, his hand stroking your hair as he talks you through it.

“That’s it, sweetheart. There we go. You’re being so fucking sweet for me, hm? Letting me fuck you in the back of my limo like this… you’re dirtier than anyone’s ever imagined…”

When he reaches his lips to yours you can taste the orgasm he kissed off of his own fingers. You moan into his mouth as he starts to move, the glorious length of him the pinpoint of your entire universe. Pulling out to the tip, slamming back home, whispering strings of filthy praise in your ear. All you can do is hang on and trust him to take care of you, the way he has once already.

It isn’t long before that sweet pressure builds up again. His cockhead brushes the inside of your walls and you come all over his cock, drenching the front of his suit in a way he looks pleased by. His grip tightens as he finishes inside of you, spilling inside of you hot and thick. You feel utterly claimed. You have been ruined for anyone else. 

He helps you sit up and redress, offering you an unopened bottle of water. A moment of silence passes as the smell of sex settles into the leather seats.

“I’ll drive you home…”

Your grip on his forearm is vice-like.

“Take me back to yours,” you beg. It doesn’t matter that you don’t know his name, you don’t need to. He’s taken better care of you in one night than your fiancé has in years. 

He softens at the pleading in your voice, those hazel eyes tender. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Okay.”

Kinktober #6

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4 months ago
JAMES MCAVOY Photographed By Juankr For Esquire Mexico
JAMES MCAVOY Photographed By Juankr For Esquire Mexico
JAMES MCAVOY Photographed By Juankr For Esquire Mexico
JAMES MCAVOY Photographed By Juankr For Esquire Mexico
JAMES MCAVOY Photographed By Juankr For Esquire Mexico
JAMES MCAVOY Photographed By Juankr For Esquire Mexico
JAMES MCAVOY Photographed By Juankr For Esquire Mexico
JAMES MCAVOY Photographed By Juankr For Esquire Mexico
JAMES MCAVOY Photographed By Juankr For Esquire Mexico

JAMES MCAVOY Photographed by Juankr for Esquire Mexico


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4 months ago

ੈ♡˳ imagine logan is in a metal band. 18+

 Imagine Logan Is In A Metal Band. 18+
 Imagine Logan Is In A Metal Band. 18+
 Imagine Logan Is In A Metal Band. 18+
 Imagine Logan Is In A Metal Band. 18+
 Imagine Logan Is In A Metal Band. 18+
 Imagine Logan Is In A Metal Band. 18+
 Imagine Logan Is In A Metal Band. 18+
 Imagine Logan Is In A Metal Band. 18+
 Imagine Logan Is In A Metal Band. 18+

"oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!" you cry out as he grips at your hips, thrusting into you deeply as you're planted on all fours on his dressing room sofa. he's got your skirt hiked up over your waist, panties pulled down around your knees. logan is hardly undressed himself, inched his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his aching cock.

he grins, "c'mon, only got a few more minutes babygirl, you gonna make me cum?"

you're gasping, hardly able to form a single thought from how hard he's fucking you and how loud the support act is playing from the stage. you wonder if their music is even loud enough to drown out your moans or the sounds of logan's body connecting with yours in deafening lewd slaps.

his hand snakes up along your spine to find your hair, yanking your head backwards and forcing you to arch your back as he drives into you. "that's it, arch that pretty little back for me."

it hurts so good, all of it. the ferocity of his thrusts, his tight grip on your hair - your thighs tremble and your mind goes blank, loving the way he uses you before shows, in between sets, sneaking you away to the bathroom at the afterparties.

and you don't mind being his stress toy. you love it. the anticipation of a gig approaching, knowing you're going to get your brains fucked out backstage while the audience calls his name. while you call his name with his cock buried deep inside you.

while he's on stage? you stand in the audience, feeling him leak out of you as his eyes connect with yours over the sea of bodies, knowing he's going to fuck you all over again as soon as the concert ends.

logan promptober day 3 - metal


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4 months ago
Remains Of The Old Days

remains of the old days


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