Old Man!logan - Tumblr Posts

Nurture Me

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Summary: Logan is incredibly confused by the usage of "daddy" in modern relationships. You're often tasked with educating him on new slang, and this time, you're motivated to create a hands-on learning experience for your old man. Warnings: MDNI. 99.9% porn, no use of y/n, age gap, daddy kink, reader is 21+, praise kink, pet names (sweetheart, bub, good girl, doll), menion of oral (fem! + male! receiving), dom/sub undertones, mention of subspace, mention of breeding kink. wc: 2.5k

"The only 'daddy' phrase I'm familiar with is "daddy-o,' and last time I checked, we're not stuck in the fuckin' 60s."

You were enjoying the lazy summer heat nuzzled against Logan's chest. The fresh smell of cotton and his masculine musk was disrupting your tranquility. His heartbeat was relaxed until you'd brought it up. It was unfair, really.

Your sorrow was what first intrigued him. He remembered punishing his liver in a dingy bar when the scent of citrus wafted through the saloon-style doors. You were lost, cursing the misleading directions illuminating your phone. From the looks of it, you were lost mentally and emotionally, beyond any geographical point.

You plopped down into the seat next to him, still mumbling profanity under your breath. Usually, Logan didn't interact with other patrons. Anyone who advanced past the acquaintance phase ended up disappointed, hurt, or killed. After you ordered a beer, your weary eyes settled on the man to your left. Flashing a shy smile, you apologized, "Sorry, rough night. I'm not the swearing type." Logan considered addressing you with a meager grunt of affirmation but responded, "Well, I am. What's bothering you? Won 3rd place in Miss America?"

Even in his old age, Logan knew how to compliment a young woman. You blamed your blushing cheeks on the effects of alcohol. Exhaling a winded sigh, you explained, "Ran away from home. Asshole boyfriend. If I did place in Miss America, maybe he wouldn't have hit me so often." You averted your eyes, assuming the man perceived you as a wounded animal. Another statistic. After that, Logan's solo lobo routine wised up real fast. He identified with your misplaced shame, reduced to a victim by an oppressor. Logan knew better than to place a hand on your shoulder, but he did, anyway.

"Nothing pisses me off more than a man hurting a woman. Need someone to teach him a lesson?" Logan didn't offer his services to anyone after being used as a government-sanctioned weapon. Did more harm than good, but your watery eyes activated his protective instincts.

Your shy gaze converted to hopefulness, searching the depths of the older man's eyes for his intentions with you. Satisfied that you found honesty, you replied, "No, thanks. I'm trying to start a clean chapter without blood staining the journey. I'm all out of money, though. . . could use a place to stay."

Logan's heart flipped at the implications. This time, he'd happily pick up a stray and tend to its wounds.

Tracing the woven lines on Logan's beater, you resumed your lesson. "Alright, remember when we first met and you took me in? Nurtured and guided me, even before we were intimate?"

Grumbling a soft, "Mhm. . ." Logan started carding his fingers through your hair, pleased by the memory of your first encounter.

"Well, some people use 'daddy' as a term of endearment. It means you're the dominant person in our relationship and I can be submissive . . .I feel safe enough to give you control. Consent is a priority, so most people create a safeword and check-in throughout sessions. Does that make sense?"

Logan softly removed your hand from his chest and swung you in front of him, swiftly spooning you from behind. He placed his arm over your stomach, pulling you close to his warmth. "Sure does, sweetheart. Do you feel safe now?"

Suddenly, breathing was difficult. A simple motor function destroyed by him manhandling you. Thinking was impossible when he made you feel this way, so vulnerable and pliant to his love.

Logan knew your age difference turned you on immensely. He'd be lying to himself if he pretended he wasn't affected, too. He'd always felt like a dirty old bastard when he had you on your knees, tongue out to catch his release. Wide eyes paired with your signature pigtails. If his regenerative abilities failed him, he'd definitely be sent straight to hell.

Logan's hips jerked forward, his cock hardening at the thought. You let out a surprised shriek.

Smirking, he said, "Need to hear you, doll. Is my girl already overwhelmed?" Logan's mouth grazed the shell of your ear, whispering, "Haven't even touched your cunt yet and you're already wet for me, I can smell it. What was it you wanted to call me?"

With a shuddered breath, you manage to plead, "Daddy. . . I wanna call you daddy . . . God, this is embarrassing. We don't have to do this." You covered your face with your hands after feeling Logan still his hips. Tears began rolling down your face at the thought of Logan being weirded out by your request.

Sensing your hesitation, Logan reassured, "Hey, hey . . . shhh. Bub, there's nothing to be ashamed of. What turns you on turns me on. The fact that you want to try any of this with an old guy like me is a miracle."

He wiped your tears away with his palms, cooing in your ear, "Had to stop moving 'cause I would've came in my pants, and I'd much rather cum in your sweet pussy."

You gasped at the stream of dirty talk pouring out of his mouth. He was never comfortable vocalizing his desire when you first made love, but after he learned how wet it made you, he made it a habit.

The sight of your tears shouldn't have turned him on as much as it did, but fuck, he now identified as your dom. The modern age has a few benefits. He wanted to ruin and nurture you simultaneously.

"Would it be okay if I got rid of these clothes for you?" Logan asked, fingers ghosting over your lingerie. You quickly nodded, but Logan needed more. "Ah ah. . .use your words."

You squeezed the arm that was still draped over your stomach. "Yes, Logan. You can get rid of 'em. Thank you for checking in." Still enveloping you, Logan quickly undressed you. The perks of having an adamantium skeleton included shrugging off your bra and panties without needing to lift his body from the mattress. The swift snikt! sound of his claws sent throbs of pleasure to your pussy. So much for being embarrassed.

"Hey!" You yelled. "Those were my favorite panties!"

Logan playfully rolled his eyes. "You look better without 'em. Now stay in that position while I take off my clothes. Think you can do that, bub?"

You bit your lip, heart pounding at the nickname usually reserved for more innocent activities. You respond, "Yes, daddy . . . won't move."

He groaned, loving the sound of his new title coating your lips. "Fuck. Good girl." More enticing sounds invaded your ears. The soft rustle of his beater, his belt haphazardly pulled through the belt loops of his jeans and falling to the floor with a "clink." Deprived of sight, you were gifted sound. And jesus, you were thankful.

Logan began teasing the head of his cock before fisting the shaft, imagining your lips wrapped around it, slick with spit and precum. You could hear the soft squelches of his own spit lubricating his cock and felt charitable.

"Logan, let me taste you. Wanna be good for you."

Usually, Logan would make you beg for his cock. Tongue flat against the folds of your pussy, kissing your clit with enough pressure to bring you to the edge, over and over again until you couldn't take it anymore.

This time, he couldn't resist the obedience emanating from your voice. Something about you discussing this new dynamic in your relationship flipped a switch in his mind. He'd always protected and guided you, focused on your pleasure above all else. Now it was time to fulfill the dominant role and indulge in your body.

Logan walked to your side of the bed, still fisting his cock. With your body still laying on one side, he beckoned you to move closer to the edge.

"So good for me, tongue out and ready for daddy's cock. Tap on my thigh if you need to breathe, okay?" Logan smacked the heavy weight of his cock on your tongue, enjoying your mewls of anticipation. With one slow thrust of his hips, you took his cock into your mouth, tongue darting along its veins and wrapping around the girth.

Logan was already close. You could tell by the placement of his hands that were mindlessly rubbing your ears, cheeks, and back. He let out a hurried groan and pulled away.

"Oh, fuckkk. Holy shit, doll, you tryin' to kill me?" You gave a terse nod before launching forward to place kitten licks on his tip. Cock bobbing with the sudden pressure, Logan swiftly picked you up and tossed you onto the bed, tits bouncing with the impact.

"That's enough. I won't make it long if you keep doing that. Like I said before, I wanna cum in your pretty little pussy. I'm a man of my word, bub."

Even with Logan tugging your ankles to rest on his shoulders, you felt safe, taken cared of. You weren't sure if this was what people referred to as "subspace," but your mind was too hazy with pleasure to care. You just wanted to feel connected with Logan, in mind, body, and spirit.

Pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead, Logan knit his eyebrows together in a worried expression. "You okay, bub? 'M Not hurting you, am I?"

Logan's cock twitched at the feeling of your hand caressing his thigh. You sighed, "I'm more than okay, Logan. Need you. . ." You bashfully looked away momentarily before clarifying, ". . . Need your cock."

Logan wanted to pinch himself. Pretty young thing like you, begging for his cock. He didn't deserve this. Used to deprive himself of pleasure, decades of guilt hindering any joy. As if hearing his thoughts, you wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling his leaking cock dangerously close to your core. "You gonna fuck me or not, old man?"

He snapped, lewdly spitting onto your pussy. Logan grunted, "Think any old man can do this?" Holding the base of his heavy cock, Logan plunged into your pussy, splitting you open in mere seconds.

You needed little prep. Your pussy was practically drooling for his cock, and thankfully, Logan's restraint was dwindling. Fast.

The audible noise of your wet pussy encouraged Logan to fuck you deeper into the mattress.

"You were made for me, doll. You're so--fuckin'. . ." each word was punctuated by a heavy thrust. ". . .tight! Ohhh, my girl's too fucked out to talk, hm? Tell me what you need."

Your pussy was sobbing and tears overwhelmed the innocent flush on your cheeks. Anyone else would assume you were in pain, but the small smile plastered on your face told Logan that you were enjoying yourself.

Forcing yourself to maintain eye contact, you respond, "I want you to cum . . . inside of me. Wanna feel stuffed --" Logan purposefully thrust his cock to the hilt of your pussy, shooting a smug grin that made you roll your eyes. You continued, ". . . Fuck, daddy. Stuff me with your cum, I won't waste any of it. . . wanna take care of you like you do for me."

Logan wiped away your tears and leaned down to sloppily kiss you. "Thank you for using your words. Good girl."

You wantonly played with your clit, slowly building up the familiar pressure that threatened to explode. Logan noticed and swatted your hand away, resuming his thrusts while circling your clit.

"Let daddy take care of you, Bub." Your eyes rolled back into your head as your arms clawed Logan's back.

As you drew blood from the rugged expanse of his back, Logan made a mental note that his cock twitched from the rough action. Something new to experiment with later.

You were losing yourself in the hazy experience of Logan bullying his cock into you, igniting every nerve and making you feel alive. Before you met him, your internal monologue was insecure, afraid of fleeing the only world that you knew. Somehow, within the first hour of meeting Logan, you knew he would nurture you. Deflect any self-degrading thought you gave a voice to. Now, you smiled, knowing that you chose the right man to foster a real home with.

The uneven thrusts of Logan's cock pulled you out of your reverie.

"I'm -- fuck, I won't last much longer, sweetheart. I need you to come first. Can you do that for me? For daddy?" He traced the outline of your lips before slipping his fingers inside, collecting your spit.

Bringing his fingers to your pussy, Logan continued rubbing your clit. He added some of his own, crudely spitting again into your open cunt.

He playfully slapped your pussy, earning a debauched whine. You came, pussy fluttering around Logan's heavy cock. Slumped into the human crater of your bed, you let Logan chase his release.

"Ohhh, fuck. Pussy was already tight, you're practically choking my cock now."

The hypnotizing pattern of thrusts were magnified when Logan's face buried in the inviting expanse of your neck.

"I can't wait to paint your pretty pussy. You're so good to me, y'know that? Don't know what I'd do without you."

The cacophony of moans and grunts surrounded the both of you like an intense echo chamber, amplifying each other's pleasure.

You managed to thread your legs around Logan's back once again with the last reserve of your strength, pushing his cock impossibly deep into your eager cunt. Forcing Logan to look at where you were both connected, you teased, "You're a dirty old man, Logan. . .fucking a stray girl you met in a bar . . ."

Your words left him speechless. His wild eyes flitted between yours and the junction of his cock and your sweet, heavenly pussy.

You pulled his head down to meet yours and whispered, "Cum for me, daddy. Wanna feel you everywhere . . ."

With a strained moan, Logan buried himself in your tight cunt and gave short, frantic thrusts during his release. His cock seemed to twitch forever, sending ropes of white-hot cum into your pussy.

After catching his breath, Logan slowly pulled out, mesmerized by remnants of his release staining the sheets below your cunt. He tried his best to collect it and pushed his thick fingers back into your pussy, hoping it would take.

Okay, another kink to take a mental note of.

Logan kissed you lovingly, pushing away a few strands of hair from your face before flipping over on the bed alongside you. You needed to clean up, but were too blissfully fucked out to move.

"Okay, bub. I think I get the whole 'daddy' thing, now."

You bit your lip. "Mm, yes . . . that was so hot. Thanks for indulging me."

Noticing his release coating your thighs, Logan proposed to pick you up bridal style and march you to the shower. You usually play music to accompany your "everything" showers, but have never used it when you showered together.

"Now, you think you can teach an old man how to connect your bluetooth shower head to Spotify? Whatever the hell 'Spotify' is?"

If you read this far, thank you so much! This is my 1st fic ever. I love to write and the Logan brain rot has taken over my mind. Any requests/asks/random thoughts are welcome!

This is so fucking real UGH I need more daddy dom logan 😔 I think I know what Im writing next guys

I fucking love the way you write old man Logan you just get it the way you write him scratches my brain like I need him to literally act like my father because he’s so much older than me and then fuck me so hard saying how I’m just such a good little girl for daddy yk? Like just a good girl for her old man just ugh I need it yk and you get it and I love it it makes me feral

thank you so much!!!

logan is literally my dad and i love him so much. im koala hugging him, clinging onto his leg, wrapping my arms around his neck and never letting go. i’m crying all snotty and messy into his chest and he’s holding me and rubbing my back and shushing me and saying “let it all out.” he picks out my outfits, down to my socks and underwear, because daddy knows best. actually he does everything for me because i’m too silly and little to do anything. and i love it because i love him and i get to turn my brain off and just do whatever he wants me to.

i was wondering if you could write some dad!logan with a reader whos lauras teacher and maybe laura talks to him about her teacher. thank you!!!!

dad!logan x teacher!reader

laura was a bright student; one of the brightest in the entire class but there was a small behavioral issue. the young girl would often beat up any student who stole her supplies or made her angry. one of the only people who could calm her down was you; her favorite teacher.

"how was school, kid?" logan asked laura when she walked into the house.

"fine," she answered.

"no more fightin'?" he arched a stern brow at the girl who had been sent home with notes regarding her classroom behavior.

"no." laura glares then explains how you have helped her control her anger.

this wasn't the first time laura had rambled on about you. the young girl's eyes lit up as she told her dad about the pretty young teacher and everything she taught her that day. logan had never met you, the closest being the letters laura brought home to him, on colorful decorative stationery and the one time he saw you through the classroom window when he dropped laura off.

logan thought you were gorgeous even with stray pencils hold up your hair and marker stains on your palms. too pretty to give a man like him the time of day. laura compared you to someone out of a fairytale book.

you seemed to be a good influence on laura so logan had no concerns or complaints. his daughter would often emphasize that there was no ring on your finger either. logan didn't bother entertaining the idea of laura setting him up with her twenty-something year old teacher. instead, he stuck to listening to all of her stories about you and your class.

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every saturday morning, you stuck to the same routine; go to your favorite coffee shop and work on next weeks lesson plan then head to the grocery store. it wasn't much but it kept you busy.

as you stroll through the aisles and check items off of your list, a pair of small feet some running your way. a man is heard angrily calling after the child clinging to you.

"hello, sweet girl!" you smile down at laura. "what are you doing here this early?"

before she could answer, a tall older gentlemen approach's you and a swarm of butterflies threaten to fall loose from your mouth. was this laura's father? this -to put it simply- hot man dressed in jeans and a flannel.

logan's mouth opened to scold his daughter but you stop him.

"you must be, mr. howlett?"

your smile was deadly, logan thought to himself. he couldn't stop staring at your soft features. logan had never been left this speechless, all he could do was nod.

luckily for both of you, laura did all the introducing. you tell him how amazing of a kid she is and all the accomplishments she's reached in your classroom. logan was only half listening, a bit too occupied with the way your lips moved as you spoke. he finally managed to spit out a 'thank you' for helping laura.

the young girl wasn't stupid, even she could see that something was happening between the two of you. if she had it her way, you would be coming over to join them for dinner. logan promised her hamburgers tonight.

"well, i should let the two of you continue your shopping." you say politely, not wanting your gawking at her father become anymore noticeable. "see you on monday, laura."

you barely moved three steps before you heard a shuffle and logan stopped you. unbeknownst to you, laura gave him a swift kick in the leg. she wasn't going to let him blow this for her.

"y-you should join us for dinner sometime." he stutters. what happened to the smooth ladies man he once was? had age really caught up to him already?

you hesitate to answer. of course you wanted to. it's been so long since a kind, attractive man has asked you to dinner but this would definitely come off as unprofessional.

"as a thank you." he adds, hoping that will help swayed you.

the moment you look down at laura's wide smile, awaiting your answer; you knew you would cave.

"I would love to."

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a/n: might need to do a part two because i love this concept <3

POSITIONS MASTERLIST𑁍

part one: positions

part two: my hair

part three: 34+35

part four: safety net

Kintober Day 9-Phone sex

Summary: Old man Logan and you get Nasty on the phone.

You lounged on the hotel bed, phone in hand, a wicked grin on your face as you texted Logan. The distance felt electric, both of you aware of the heat simmering beneath the surface.

"Wish you were here," you typed.

Seconds later, your phone buzzed: "Me too, darlin. What would you do if I were there?"

You smirked, replying, "I'd show you just how much I miss you. I want you to take a picture of yourself for me, Logan." You could practically hear his chuckle. "A picture, huh? You want to see me old and rugged?"

"Yes," you urged. "Show me how much you want me."

Logan finally sent a video, adjusting his old phone to capture himself. You watched, biting your lip, as he struggled to get the angle right. "You're doing great," you encouraged. "Now, show me that rugged body."

He pointed the camera down, revealing the outline of his bulge through his jeans. "Is this what you wanted?" he growled, desire thick in his voice.

"Yes," you breathed. "Now, show me how you'd touch me."

His hand gripped himself through the fabric, and as he began to stroke, you could feel the tension build between you. "God, I wish you were here," he groaned.

"Just like that," you urged. "Imagine it's me. I want to see you lose control."

Logan quickened his pace, breaths heavy as he lost himself in the moment.

"I'm close," he rasped, tension palpable.

"Me too," you gasped, fingers teasing your own body. "Let go, Logan. Come for me."

With a deep growl, he reached his climax, his face a picture of raw pleasure. At that moment, waves of bliss crashed over you as you

surrendered to the pleasure, imagining his rough hands holding you tight. You both trembled in the aftermath, breaths mingling with the lingering heat of your shared moment, even from miles apart.

Requests are Open!

request for old man! Logan please: he calls the reader his good girl for the first time in bed & he sees the instant affect it has on her

Good girl🎀

Logan’s voice is a gravelly whisper as he praises you, “You’re such a good girl for me.” The moment the words leave his lips, warmth floods your cheeks, striking a deep chord inside you. Growing up, you were often told you were a “fuck up,” and hearing him say this feels like a revelation.

You freeze for a moment, grappling with the unexpected swell of pride and vulnerability. It’s as if all those years of negativity are being washed away, yet doubt lingers in the back of your mind. Your heart races, but the words feel heavy, and you struggle to accept the affection he’s offering.

Logan’s eyes narrow slightly, picking up on the shift in your expression. “What is it?” he asks, his brow furrowing in concern. “You know you’re mine, right? My good girl.”

You swallow hard, the words tangled in your throat. You feel the familiar sting of inadequacy creeping back in, a voice in your head insisting you don’t deserve this. “I—” you stammer, the truth nearly slipping out, but it falters.

“Hey,” he urges gently, his thumb brushing along your jawline, “I need to hear you say it.”

You shake your head slightly, guilt gnawing at you. “I can’t,” you whisper, the weight of your past suffocating. “I’m just… I’m a fuck up.”

“Listen to me,” he says firmly, tilting your chin up so you can meet his gaze. “You’re not a fuck up. You’re strong, you’re brave, and you’ve fought through so much. You’re a damn good girl.”

His words linger in the air, but doubt still holds you captive. “How can you say that?” you reply, voice trembling. “I keep messing things up.”

“Everyone makes mistakes,” he reassures you, his voice steady. “It’s what we do after that counts. You keep pushing through, and that takes courage.”

You look into his eyes, searching for that truth, but the struggle within you feels insurmountable. “I’m trying,” you whisper, feeling a tear threaten to fall. “But it’s hard.”

“Just say it for me, sweetheart,” he presses, voice softening. “You’re my good girl. You need to believe it.”

With a shaky breath, you realize how much you want to embrace those words. “I… I’m your good girl,” you finally manage, the admission barely above a whisper.

“Louder,” he encourages, a warm smile breaking through his serious demeanor. “I want to hear you say it, all right?”

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of your past lift slightly. “I’m your good girl,” you say, a little louder this time, the words starting to feel more comfortable as they leave your lips.

Logan’s expression brightens, satisfaction washing over him as he pulls you into a firm embrace. “Damn right you are,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your ear. “And you always will be.”

“Do you really mean that?” you ask, searching his face for reassurance.

“Of course, I do,” he replies, his gaze intense and unwavering. “You’re everything to me. I’d never say it if I didn’t mean it. You deserve to feel that way, even when you doubt yourself.”

You lean into him, your heart swelling with a mix of relief and affection. “Thank you,” you whisper, your voice soft but sincere.

“Always,” he promises, brushing a stray hair from your face. “Now, how about we make sure you never forget it?”

“Okay,” you reply, a smile breaking through your earlier uncertainty. “I’ll try.”

“That’s my girl,” he says, wrapping his arms around you tighter. “Just remember, you’re not a fuck up—you’re my good girl.”

Requests are Open!

Can I request old man glasses wearing Logan & shy girl with a daddy kink (if you don’t mind of course because I really need that to fill a void in my life rn please and thanks) 🥺

It was a quiet Saturday morning, the kind where the world felt wrapped in a blanket of calm, and you found Logan in the kitchen, already making breakfast. His glasses perched on his nose as he flipped through the newspaper, occasionally pausing to flip a pancake. You hovered in the doorway, too shy to announce yourself, content just to watch him in these small, intimate moments. Finally, he noticed you and raised an eyebrow.

“You gonna keep hidin’, or you want some breakfast, darlin’?” he asked with a hint of a smirk.

You shuffled over, playing with the edge of your sweater, and mumbled, “If… if you don’t mind, daddy.” The title slipped out, quiet but sincere, and you felt your cheeks heat up instantly.

Logan’s expression softened, his smirk fading into a small, affectionate smile. “Don’t need to be shy ‘bout that,” he murmured, reaching out to ruffle your hair before handing you a plate. “Go on, eat up.”

As the day went on, you both found yourselves outside, tending to the garden. Logan would pass you tools, occasionally grumbling about weeds, and you’d laugh quietly at his grouchy commentary. When he paused to wipe the sweat from his brow, you noticed his glasses sliding down his nose and smiled, reaching over to gently push them back up.

“There,” you said softly, a little embarrassed but determined. “Can’t have you squinting, daddy.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Guess I’m gettin’ old if I need you to keep me in line,” he teased, but there was warmth in his voice, a softness he saved just for you. “Guess that makes you my helper, huh?”

As the evening settled in, you both sat together on the porch, watching the sunset in comfortable silence. Logan draped a warm blanket over your shoulders, pulling you close against his side as he adjusted his glasses to look out at the stars. You curled up next to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

After a long pause, you murmured, “Thanks for today, daddy.” It was barely more than a whisper, and it still made you feel bashful, but with Logan, it always felt natural. He just squeezed your shoulder, his voice a soft rumble in the quiet night.

“Anytime, darlin’. Just right here with ya.”

Requests are Open!