#cg!logan

Logan's guilty pleasure is you. He loves indulging in your regressed fantasies, coddling you as his kit. He's such a softie for you, and over the years has stopped trying to hide it from others. In public he's not as worried about keeping up his gruff demeanor, rather putting his attention towards you. All in all, he adores you. 

He's seen you eyeing pictures of onesies, particularly a cute brown fuzzy one with bear ears. You save them to your online folder of regression things you like, but then move on. Logan didn’t move on though.

You walk up the stairs, wondering why Logan could’ve called you up to his room. When you get there, he’s on his bed holding a box. 

“Come sit baby.” He pats the spot beside you, and you eagerly sit down. He places the box in your lap. “Open it.” 

You open the box, and see brown fuzz. You look at him curiously, unsure about what’s in front of you. He gives you an encouraging nod, so you lift the item out. It unfolds, and you recognize it to be the bear onesie you’ve been eyeing for weeks. 

Your eyes light up at the sight, and squeal. You bring it to your cheek, rubbing the soft fabric in a soothing manner. “Papa!! How did you know?”

“You’re not that subtle, cub.” He laughs and ruffles your hair. You quickly change into it, excited to show everyone your new present. 

You run down the stairs, and burst into Charles’ office where he and Erik are looking over some documents. At your interruption, they both look up and smile at your infectious energy. 

“Look at what Papa got me!” You spread your arms to fully display the outfit and do a little spin. 

“Very cute sweetheart, you look adorable.” Charles tells you softly. 

“Oh and look!” You spin around again, this time stopping halfway so they can see your little tail. You see Logan leaning against the doorway before you turn back around. 

“You got this for them Logan?” Erik asks, almost teasing but you don’t pick up on it, too distracted by the soft garment against your skin. 

“They really wanted it.” He shrugs. “And I love having a little cub to snuggle with every night.” He pulls you into his chest and pokes your side, making you giggle. 

It’s a rainy day, with too heavy of a downpour for you to have fun in the puddles. You tried, but it was just kind of miserable. So Logan spent his day trying to keep you occupied but it seemed it was just an off day for you. Your mind is under-stimulated and restless. 

Now, it's evening and your brain isn't shutting off. You're squirmy, wiggling in Logan's arms as he carries you to his bedroom. Since it's Friday, he allowed you to stay up past your bedtime, and he knew you wouldn't be asleep on time anyway. 

You had convinced him to let you watch some cartoons for a while, but now you need to sleep. That's what Logan thinks anyway. You think that there's no way you're going to bed right now. Why would you? You're not even tired. 

Logan might have believed that you aren't tired if it weren't for your overtired whining. Anytime he told you to do anything you were groaning about it, turning away from him and stomping your foot. Sleepy dramatics, and he could see right through you.

He sets you down on his bed, and crosses his arms. You look at him with a frustrated expression and a serious pout. 

"Don't wanna sleeeeeep Pa." You complain petulantly. 

"I know, but you got to, kid." You huff and flop backwards, lying on your back. "Brush your teeth, get into your pjs and then see how you feel ok?" Logan tries to compromise. 

You do as he says, although begrudgingly. He tucks you in, kissing your forehead and stroking your hair. He walks downstairs to the couch, and watches some random show to unwind. It’s only 10 minutes until he hears soft padded footsteps. You round the couch and stand in front of him with your stuffie in hand. 

“I just can’t sleep.” Now you’re frustrated with your body too. Tears glaze over your eyes and blur your vision. He pulls you into his lap, and wipes your tears. 

“Shhhh I know, baby.” He soothes. You lean against him, soaking up the comfort, allowing his words to ease your distress. “How about I put you in your cute little cub onesie?”

You’re carried back up to his room once again and changed into the onesie. It’s soft against your skin and keeps you warm in the cool air. He picks you up, cradling you in his arms so you're tucked against him. 

He walks into the quiet hallway and Logan can hear snoring coming from the rooms he passes them. He rocks you as he moves, and your weight in his arms is comforting for him after a slightly miserable day. He walks up and down the halls until your breathing finally evens out and he feels tired enough himself to sleep as well. He looks down and you’ve got both of your hands loosely gripping his shirt and your pacifier resting in your mouth. The bunny plush on the stomach rises and falls with the movements of your breathing. 

You’re the picture of peace. When he lays you in his bed, and he gets in beside you, the air of peace coming from you lulls him into a deep sleep. 

He groaned and squinted his eyes open, tensing at the blurry figure next to him. He shifted away from it quickly. Who would even dare to- oh.

"Don't move, daddy, you'll mess up my artwork!" you whined.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Logan wasn't under attack. It was simply his sweet little bub kneeling beside the couch, holding his hand and painting red onto the nail of his pinky finger.

"Hey, bub." he muttered.

You turned to look at him with bright, sparkling eyes. You were so happy to see him. "Have a good nap, daddy?"

"You know it." he rumbled.

Your eyes shifted back to your task at hand. You brushed a bit more red onto his pinky finger, trying very hard not to get polish on his skin. Daddy wouldn't care but you knew you would care. It's got to be perfect for daddy!

"Whatcha doing?" he asked.

"Making daddy a pretty kitty." You picked up his limp hand and showed him your work so far. Logan didn't mind the nickname. He liked anything you gifted him.

However, he did quirk his brow at a certain implication. "Wait a minute, I thought you said I was already pretty?" A sliver of a smile poked through his serious facade. He can't actually be serious with you, you're way too cute for him to be all grumpy, wumpy. You've got him tied around your finger and he's a-okay with that.

"Wait but you are, daddy! You are! I'm just uhhhhh...." You looked around the room, aimlessly searching for an answer. "OH, I'm making you even prettier! The mostest prettier ever!"

The sliver of a smile turned into a full grin. He sat up and observed his now painted hand. "What colors did you use?" He wouldn't be your daddy if he didn't test your knowledge just a little bit.

"I used some red and pink and blue, oh and orange, and only a little yellow cause it's basically empty, see?" You turned the bottle upside down and shook it before tossing it to the side. "Do you like your nails, daddy?"

Logan lifted his hand, moving it this way and that. Up, down, left, right, sideways, up ways, down ways, more ways. You patiently waited for his approval with wide eyes. "Of course, I do, pumpkin. It's perfect."

You pulled him closer by his shirt, jutted your lip, lowered your brows, and squinted your eyes. With your other hand you pointed at him very sternly. It took everything in Logan to not coo at your cutely angry expression. Your face was scrunched, just like your daddy does sometimes. "Never take it off, daddy."

"Don't worry," he giggled. "I won't."

"What's happening here?" came a voice.

Mr. Butern... the professor of mutation genetics. When did he get here? "Turning into a pretty little princess, huh, Logan?" he scoffed and began to walk away.

Logan moved quickly and shoved the professor against the wall. His claws came out to play, pricking at the meanie's neck.

"Say another word and I will slice your fucking head off-"

"Daddy, that's a bad word!" you scolded.

Your daddy turned to face you. "Apologies, pumpkin." He turned back round. "Now, you tell my little one how good of a job they did."

The other guy stuttered, shaking so bad he must be a milkshake inside. "You d-did a good j-job."

Daddy dragged him to the tattered couch and shoved him down. "Sit your ass down."

Daddy's face immediately went from angry to mushy mush as he looked at you. "Bub, I think you should give him a makeover, too."

"Right on it, Dada!"

You’ve been isolating yourself in your room since you woke up. You feel so confused with yourself, with your mind, with your feelings. You press your back against your headboard, legs crossed one on top of the other. You gently rock back and forth while struggling to understand how you’re feeling; why you’re feeling the way you do. Yeah, you’ve got a ton of energy right now. You feel like you’re letting your inner child express itself in your mind, yet you’re holding them in as best as possible. You’re terrified of annoying anyone by releasing those feelings, espically Logan. You bite and chew at your lips nervously as you rock a bit faster. Why? That’s the only question you can ask yourself right now. Over and over, your mind fills itself with nothing but confusion of why you feel like this, why you yearn to be so childish, why you’re scared of annoying Logan when he loves you unconditionally.

You’re quickly snapped out of your thoughts as the man knocks on the door. “Everything alright in there, kid,” he asks with his face pressed to the wood. God, the way he calls you kid only makes these foreign feelings harder to suppress. You choke back your tears before responding. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just feeling a little down,” you reply with a tone that’s involuntarily soft and childlike. Logan raises his brows at the way you speak to him. You’ve never kept yourself away like this, but he’s been noticing a pattern lately. You isolate yourself the moment you wake up, beg him to leave you alone, and then come out quiet and reserved. He continues to press because he misses you so damn bad. He’s willing to do absolutely anything to get you in his arms again. “Please tell me what’s wrong, bub. I promise I’m not going to be upset with you,” he pleads with the softest tone he can force out of his throat. “I mean, I’d be more upset if you didn’t trust me with whatever you’ve got going on,” he chuckles akwardly.

You wipe your tears before inviting him in. The second he realizes that you’re crying, his lips form a frown and his eyes give you a sympathetic gaze. “Hey, hey, hey. Don’t cry, baby. I’m right here. I’m not leaving, I swear,” he scrambles to reassure you, sitting on your bed and pulling you into his arms. You let your cries get thicker once you lean into his. He smells so fatherly. His large, calloused hands make your entire body shiver with comfort. Everything about him is sending an unknown, unfamiliar feeling that you’ve been yearning for. You can’t even begin to imagine what to call it, but your body allows you to relax under his touch. “That’s it, baby. Let it all out. Tell me what’s up once you’re ready to,” he coos as his hands rub up and down your back. You nod against his chest, letting the thumping of his heartbeat soothe you.

You pull back from his embrace, but hold his hands in your own. His touch is what you’ve been needing. Scratch that, you’ve been needing Logan in general. You attempt to try and explain things, but you end up stammering and stuttering. “I’m sorry, Logan. I just — I don’t even know what to say,” you apologize while looking away from him. He squeezes your hands gently and sighs. “You don’t need to apologize, kid. I’ll be here as long as you need me to be. If I have to wait here for hours for you to get your thoughts together, I don’t mind. You know that, bub,” he tells you sincerely. You look at him and give him the best smile you can considering the circumstances.

You take a deep, shakey breath after a few minutes of silence before attempting to describe your feelings. “I’ve just been feeling like a child lately. I’ve had so much energy and excitement and joy for no reason. It’s so confusing and it’s scaring me Lo, it really is. I just want an answer,” you explain to him. His thumb rubs against your knuckles lovingly before he presses a silent kiss to your forehead. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry. You’ve got such a big heart, kid. I need you to understand that you don’t need to be afraid to let those feelings loose around me. I’ll love you no matter what,” he promises while holding your face in his hands so you’re looking at him. You nod gently, eyes glossy and wide from the way he comforts you so paternally. “I understand,” you mumble back, letting that same childlike voice slip. Logan gives you a gentle smile, failing to hold back a snicker. “Well would you look at that. You sound so little, baby. It’s adorable,” he says while attempting to hold himself back from squeezing your face. You giggle softly and shake your head no. “It’s not adorable, Lo,” you protest. Your stomach knots as you allow yourself to slip into this pure, innocent state. As soon as Logan begins to coddle you further, that knot unties itself and becomes a flutter in your heart. “If you deny anything else I say, I’ll have to find a way to get back at you for it. You’re too damn cute to not accept that you are,” he playfully threatens. “C’mere you sweet thing,” he growls as he pulls you into his lap. “No! Let me go,” you giggle sweetly, squirming in Logan’s arms despite wanting to stay right where you are forever. “I’m not letting you go, kid. You’re mine. My sweet little thing that I’ll protect with my life,” he declares before starting to pepper your face with soft kisses. You can feel him smiling like an idiot against your skin from the sound of your giggles, the way you smile, and the warmth of your face caused by him.