Should I Start Writing For Cyclops? I Love Him Sm, My Pookie Deserves More Love

Should I start writing for Cyclops? I love him sm, my pookie deserves more love

I’m sorry if my fics take even longer than usual, I’ve recently started college and it’s a huge workload, so please bare with me, love you all!

Me when someone makes the mistake of complimenting my agere works so I follow them, and comment on their fics in support bc I love being a fan.

I love anyone and everyone that supports my work, and it’s not my fault that my mooties are really good at writing cute fics. Please keep writing stuff so I can act like a supportive mother in the comments, you’re doing great sweeties

Begging for some twins in time fics, please yall, I need Kid Stan and Post college ford angst, I need it 😭

“More Dad!/CG logan fics” we all say in unison! (Please and ty :)) im so obsessed with how cute they are 🥹)

LOGAN HOWLETT X LITTLE!READER

⋆｡𖦹°‧🎞️ GOOD AS NEW : 905 WRDS

<RATING: PG, MINOR SCRATCH/BLOOD MENTION>

A/N : Here’s another CG!/Dad!Logan fic with some inspiration from cloudbug08, and a request from an Anonny (THANK U SM FOR THE REQUEST 💗) I love bug’s headcanons for CG!Logan heaps, so I included his headcanon of Logan calling you kit :] !!Warning for a minor injury (knee scrape) and a few mentions of blood!!

You and Logan were strolling hand in hand through Walmart. He decided to let you pick out a new stuffie since you haven’t been misbehaving all week. You squeeze Logan’s hand in excitement causing him to chuckle under his breath and smile. The second you spot the section of the store that holds the stuffed animals, you squeal with excitement and run over to the aisle while pulling on Logan’s hand. “C’mon, papa! I wanna get a stuffie! Hurry,” you whine while pulling on his hand. He sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry, bub. I’m trying to stay up with you, but you’ve got too much energy for me to keep up with,” he says. You pout at him, letting go of his hand to cross your arms against your chest. He raises his eyebrows while giving you a look that tells you to watch yourself. “Hey now, kid. Don’t get pouty on me. You gotta remember we’re only here because you behaved all week. That could change right now if you don’t drop it,” he says with a gentle voice that still gets the point across. You immediately quit pouting, dropping your arms to your side and reattaching yourself to Logan. “That’s my little kit,” he coos as he brings his hand up to your head and cups your jaw in his palm. You let out a small chirp from his praises, always accepting the sweet words. “Now let’s get you a new friend,” he says, petting the back of your head and walking over to the aisle filled with soft toys.

You and Logan are on his motorcycle now, making your way home. Your new stuffie is secured tightly in your backpack. Your arms squeeze tightly around Logan’s waist. Your body presses against the leather of his bomber jacket, the strong scent of it filling your senses greatly. Your helmet presses against his back while your knees press into him. “We’re almost home, bubs,” he tells you while waiting for the light you’re at to turn green. You nod against him to let you know you heard him.

The two of you arrive home shortly after, Logan pulling into the garage and parking his bike. He gets off first, shaking his head and fixing his hair. He takes your helmet off and smiles at you. “Look at that smile. God, you are too cute,” he compliments while holding out his hand for you to hold. You giggle from his compliment and take his hand. Unfortunately, you trip over your own feet, falling and scraping your knee. From your position on the floor you look up at Logan. “Papa,” you whine as tears brim in your eyes. Logan bites the inside of his cheek and scoops you into his arms. “Oh, baby. Please don’t cry. It’s alright. You’re alright. Just breathe for me, kid,” he pleads before peppering your face with kisses. Your tears stream out of your eyes against your will. Your wrists press against your eyelids as you try your best to wipe away the tears. “Sorry papa,” you mumble pitifully. Logan begins to carry you inside while reassuring you that everything’s okay, you did nothing wrong, you have nothing to apologize for.

He sets you down on the couch and looks you over, kneeling to check for any damage done caused by the trip. “Are you hurt, kid? I need you to use your words so papa can help you,” he says while softly pressing his hands against you. “My knee hurts. I think I scratched it,” you hiccup through tears. He nods and moves his hand to your knee, moving the fabric away from your skin. “Awe. You poor thing,” he says at your knee, kissing to slightly scratched flesh. “We gotta patch you up so you don’t get a yucky infection,” he tells you. He pats your thigh before getting up and going to the bathroom so he can clean you up.

He returns with some cotton balls, rubbing alcohol, and a piece of candy. “Let’s get you cleaned up, kiddo,” he says with a grunt as he settles onto the ground again. You hold you new stuffie tightly in your arms while biting your lip anxiously in anticipation of pain, watching Logan put some rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball. “This is gonna sting a little bit,” he warns. He offers his hand to you and you quickly take it. Despite the fact you’re squeezing his hand so hard that your knuckles turn white, he keeps a straight face. He pats the cotton ball against the slightly bloodied skin causing you to whimper in pain. “Papa,” you whine softly as your tears come back to run down your cheeks. “I know, bub. I know. You got this. You’re my brave little kit, ain’t ya,” he asks with a soft smile, squeezing your hand softly. You continue to cry and nod your head in agreement to his question. Before you know it, he’s done cleaning up your knee. It looks so much better; less red and no longer bleeding. He smiles up at you as you pull him against you tightly. He chuckles as his face is squished against your stomach, feeling his heart melt from the affection. “Good as new, kit. Good as new,” he says, wrapping his arms around you and allowing you to mess with his hair and show your thanks with physical love.

I just found out Hugh Jackman likes Adventure Time, prepare to be absolutely SICK of me