#//thanks for saving his skin
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morninkim · 29 days ago
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As a show of good faith toward the remaining Decepticons at the beginning of a new, united Cybertron, newly appointed Senators Bumblebee and Soundwave allowed Shatter and Dropkick to enlist into Autobot City's Defense Team.
These two turned out to be... not the best choices.
The city may have fallen to Insurgent Decepticon occupation had it not been for young recruits Hot Rod and Arcee's accidental interception of Shatter's communication with the fugitive Starscream.
To replace the errant Defense Team members, Springer and Blurr were reassigned from Iacon to Autobot City in their stead.
#my art#tf reconstruction#transformers#bumblebee movie#tf shatter#tf dropkick#maccadam#transformers au#semi-introduction to my idea for antagonists in tf:r - specifically being movie villains slotted into my au#bc if the main crux of the main reconstruction story in autobot city is about hot rod and her rise to becoming rodimus prime#which comes from the First movie - why not loosely adapt other movies too??#ive got ideas for most of them already - kinda jumping back and forth between the modern day story and my pre-war ''downfall'' story#which gives my brain a break from thinking about one to think about another#anyway - i imagine the first ''episode'' of tf:r would be like. hot rod shows up in autobot city on her first day > meets the team#> gets assigned arcee as her partner > arcee hates it > they over hear shatter talking to someone they don't recognise because rod's nosey#> huh that's weird > they intercept it next time by accident > its a communication to starscream about the city's defenses#> they take it to ultra magnus but they break the pad on the way because they were arguing about it#> ''hot rod i know you're new here. and you're intrigued about the war and everything. but we shouldn't be suspicious of everyone wearing a#purple badge. give them a chance.'' > arcee drops it bc she doesn't wanna start trouble + ''magnus will handle it. he always does somehow.'#> rod does not drop it and makes blaster monitor shatter's messages for anything unusual > blaster indulges her bc he's endeared to her#> he does end up intercepting an encrypted message > rod immediately acts and chases after shatter and dropkick on an outside-city mission#> arcee goes after her to stop her from fucking up really bad > blaster unencrypts the message. it's a rendezvous point to start an invasio#> magnus kup blaster and perceptor all head out to help the two young'uns before they get in over their heads#> rod and arcee meet and fight starscream and barely make it out by the skin of the teeth thanks to the more experienced autobots arrival#> starscream shatter dropkick and whoever else is there are driven off#> day is saved - magnus commends rod's gut instincts but rod goes back to what magnus said about not trusting bots with purple badges#> she was right this time but its an exception not a rule and most other decepticons in the city want to live in peace#> magnus also commends that attitude and the team head back > starscream starts plotting his Next Big Plan#''post credits'' scene of magnus putting the request in for springer and blurr + robot dinosaur opening its eye in the dark👀👀#longwinded but ya thats like the Clearest idea for Specific Events so far other things are Stuff I Want To Happen
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angelnumber27 · 6 months ago
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*he spilled my cup of paint water all over everything idk why I said he spilled watercolors I just woke up girls
I literally walked away for two minutes tops to make coffee and came back to his ass sitting on this water color palette and my painting open after spilling my watercolor water all over it
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Look at that face. He knows he did something wrong hahahha
#I really wish I had a pic of him just sitting on the watercolors bc it was hilarious#like he looked so innocent and cute and I just knew his was was covered in various colors hashahwhwha#but i was more concerned with the toxicity so my immediate reaction was to try to clean his paws the best I could#and research#it won’t cause any skin or gastrointestinal issues so we’re good thankfully#he will be fine don’t worry lmao it’s water based watercolors#gonna watch him close just in case#grabbed him asap and a wash cloth and took him to the sink#but yes to reiterate it’s NOT TOXIC AND HE IS FINE I PROMISE#also thank goodness I grabbed him immediately before he started prancing around on the white carpet bc I would be yelled at for weeks#u have four bloody scratches on my face but there are not rainbow foot prints all over the house and he is safe so I am fine with that#i**#they’re ^#the way cats attack you and think they’re being punished when you’re literally potentially trying to just save their life#or help them#like unhooking their claw from somethin their stuck too#and like I give a fuck about clothes as much as my cat but there’s paint all over my favorite robe too now hahah#legit thiught the red streaks on my face were watercolor hahahaha so I was like oh shit that blood#I’m not mad#after I found out it wasn’t toxic and that he didn’t step all over the wet carpets and that he was okay i laughed for like 15 minutes#I’m still laughing like… y’all ☠️#please excuse my voice I’m a little sick and I sound like a southerner ew#like why do i sound like someone’s Christian Baptist mother offering someone cookies#Queso#my cats#lmao
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theladysunami · 1 year ago
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Amusing SVSSS AU thought I had:
Shen Qingqiu, the Luna Moth fae, with his Spider fae husband, Luo Binghe.
Everyone is super concerned about the spider thing, since spiders eat moths, and at least some arachnid fae are known to eat gossamer winged fae too.
Of course, Luo Binghe would never. He may trap his husband in webbing and bite him sometimes, but that’s for sexy purposes only.
As for how they met…
Luo Binghe is probably only half ‘Spidren’, the other half being some type of wingless ‘Pixie’ or ‘Elf’. He joined Shen Qingqiu’s ‘class’ as a presumed full blood pixie, and was often made fun of for his lack of wings (since the fairy ‘Cang Qiong’ equivalent is mostly home to ‘Sylphs’ and other gossamer winged fae). Shen Quingqiu dealt with the bullying matter by keeping him close and doting on him constantly.
Naturally some type of drama eventually happened revealing the whole spider thing, but Shen Qingqiu won’t hear of throwing out his precious boy! Look at these spider silk robes Binghe made for him. Isn’t he the sweetest! ♥
(Assume Huan Hua Palace is mostly wingless elf-like fae. Demons are fae with the attributes of various creepy crawlies: arachnids, other wingless arthropods, and some snakes too).
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pinchan · 4 months ago
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never smoked a in my life but i felt such a strong need for a hit watching that fucking reunion scene
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sadfruittheatre-rp · 1 year ago
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The Coward
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You didn't have another choice, honest! Have these people SEEN what the heroes are up against? It'd end you in an instant, whether that be a lovecraftian abomination with a hold on your soul, a rampaging monster that's destroying more than a hurricane and an earthquake could in one fell swoop, a shadow organization that has tabs on everyone you love and will end them in an instant, or just a particularly grumpy boss that might yell at you if you don't fall in with his excessively tyrannical methods, you can't go risking your neck for the poor saps that think they can stop it. No way, you're staying on the bad guy side, where it's SAFE.
Tagged by: @acoldsovereign
Tagging: lmao pretty much everyone i'm mutuals with did this already but if you see this and you haven't you can steal it and say i tagged you i guess lol
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pbaintthetb · 1 year ago
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back on the Merlin train- S5 Mordred for a moment like oh lord S5 Mordred I wish i could get in your head and see what’s there in your brains, rn I think I’d rather do that to you than main blorbo (if only cos im scared of his head)
like Mordred jfc
just, does arthur know does he think arthur knows has arthur forgotten
Merlin- not even touching their last S2 encounter when Merlin flat out attempts to murder child Mordred, when child mordred has this mythical figure who is supposed to be his salvation try to kill him for no reason he will ever discover
(and like Mordred is on the outs with druids by s5 right? my personal hc is this is why...)
and also, Emrys, just this rando guy, pretending to be weak,. Arthur and the knights bully him and Merlin goes along with it and Merlin is the most powerful person Mordred has ever met
Idk takes bullying the dragon to a new level, and obvs merlin wouldn’t turn on them but S5 Mordred is hated by who he considers not only to be the most powerful man, but a mythic figure and
jeez louise S5 mordred, what is your life
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edieblakewrites · 1 month ago
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story in the tags bc apparently i have been moved to action by scorps wee toe beans
i hope i'm doing this right. E1, harry and scorpius. not a ship, protecive harry
♌♏
Harry spies a group of kids at the park getting a little too rough with young Scorpius Malfoy
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Thanks for the ask!
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musouie · 5 days ago
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sending simon a “care package” while he’s on deployment, but in lieu of non-perishable food and toiletries, you send him erotic photos and his favourite pair of your lace knickers.
he thanks you the following afternoon with a string of blurry videos of him jerking off in his bunk, muffled moans escaping clamped lips and a massive, veiny hand pumping his flushed cock.
when he comes, his meaty thighs tremble, as does the camera. you don’t see much, save for the splatter of white against his skin as he groans and sighs — a bestial thing ripped from his throat — and your knickers wrapped around him.
and when he returns from deployment, with pallor skin and sunken eyes, he leaves no room for you to question what could be wrong — because the second he enters your home, he’s forcing you against the wall and fucking your starved cunt for as long as he can manage, making up for all those precious months lost :(
masterlist <3 . . . newest feral!simon
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chuluoyi · 6 months ago
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✎ baby to the rescue
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- gojo satoru x reader
in which gojo recruits your baby son to “save” you from a credit card salesman
genre: immense fluff !! baby gojo and dad!gojo shenanigans~
note: based on this and this reel. with this i hereby declare that anything past chapter 235 is null and void HAHA anyway, i truly want to post remarried empress au by this week but since 261 leaks hurt me so much, i need more fluff so have to postpone it to next week :') tagging @karikari19hikariiii <3
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
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Your husband Gojo Satoru... is handsome as hell, which means your baby son is also undeniably good-looking.
"Why do you pout at me?" Satoru poked his squirming baby's cheek while pursing his lips too. "C'mon, smile! That auntie is smiling at you!"
Everyone who passed by them in Shinjuku shopping district turned heads to admire him and his pumpkin just a little longer, and Satoru visibly enjoyed the attention. He smiled back at them, occasionally winking even.
If only they knew how pretty his wife was too...
Wait, no! On second thought, if they know how hot you are, there will be problems!
You had left him to go to the nearest pharmacy to restock some things, while Satoru decided to entertain his baby in the toy section. He basked in the starry-eyed looks people were giving him... until he heard some strange sounds and turned to his baby boy—
—who was chewing the beak of a duck toy with all his might. Satoru was mortified.
"—! Let that go! Your mama will beat me if she sees you eating this!"
Your baby paid him no mind though, desperately pushing the duck into his mouth. Satoru sat him on one of the empty racks and began the tug of war—
"Let go!" he reprimanded. "You're so naughty, gods—!"
Some people were now openly giggling at both of them. His son tried to resist by rolling, and Satoru clicked his tongue. He then yanked the toy away until his baby finally let it go, sniffling sadly that his papa wouldn't let him have the duck.
"Oh, you..." he picked him up again and consoled the pumpkin. "You can't do that, you hear? First, it's not clean. Second, mama will grow two heads to chew you and me both, understand?"
No, your son totally didn't understand a thing. Satoru sighed, seeing his little blue eyes welling up with tears. He ruffled his head and pulled him close. "There, there... I'll get you ice cream, okay? Now let's go."
Satoru was determined to turn his son back into a smiling, happy baby. But just as he was about to head towards the ice cream parlor, he encountered the most unbelievable sight—
"Miss! I guarantee you'll love this credit card features!"
You. That was clearly you, and a salesman (or a bozo, in Satoru's eyes) was trying to bother you.
You raised an eyebrow. "Uh, no— thank you—"
Yet the bozo was still persistent, like the pesky fly he was. "You can use it to pay for your monthly beauty treatments! Someone as pretty as you..." He eyed you from head to toe, blinking suggestively. "Oh my! Your skin is flawless! You have to maintain it this way! I can also give you recommendations for—"
You were wearing a flare dress that made you look so young and petite, and obviously, Satoru too was lusting after you. And true, your skin was smooth like a soft serve of mochi, but still!
You are meant for him and his eyes only! Oho, this bozo would get heavenly punishment.
He had to get to you somehow, but this was public space and if he cooked up some sort of shenanigan, you would put him in sex ban. I can't have that! so Satoru wracked his brain to think of another way...
Once again, his gaze fell on his now calm baby, who was also looking at his mama over there with utter curiosity. And an idea immediately popped up in his mind.
"Hey, kiddo, look at that, a bad man is trying to take your mama," Satoru nudged him as if trying to egg him on. "We can't let that happen. Will you help me to save her, hmm?"
"Mama..." your baby looked back at him so innocently before smiling. "Mamaaa!"
"Good boy." Gods, his baby was so adorable, he almost felt bad for doing this but...
Swallowing his guilt, thinking he would make it up later, he pinched his son's butt a little too firmly—
"WAAAA!" and suddenly, the little boy burst into tears, and even Satoru was surprised by the sheer volume of his wail.
The sudden inconsolable sound of your baby sent you scrambling in panic, your eyes wildly searching for him, completely disregarding the credit card man. "My baby!"
"Eh?" the credit card man was visibly surprised. "Oh... so, you're married...?"
You immediately made your way towards Satoru and snatched your baby from him, hugging him tightly. "Oh, there, there... What happened to you?" you shot your husband a distaste look as your son kept wailing. "Satoru, why is he crying?"
He nonchalantly shrugged. "Maybe missing his mama? Dunno~"
By now, you had completely forgotten the credit card bozo, but he still looked at the three of you in mild surprise. Satoru took this chance to approach him and whisper in his ear:
"You see, my wife doesn't need your credit card," he whistled. "My cards or lumpsum money will do more than enough."
After seeing how pale the bozo looked, Satoru chuckled darkly... before leading you and your son away from the crowd, with one arm possessively around your waist.
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Epilogue
"I'm sorry— I'm sorry, okay!?"
Satoru looked down at his son in utter hopelessness, as the little boy refused to be held by him, looking at him with teary, resentful eyes, and backing away from him in his playpen.
Can babies hold a grudge? Satoru didn't know, but his son definitely was not happy with him, and he couldn't think of any other explanation other than his sin against him back this afternoon.
"I've bought you mochi ice cream!" he opened his palm to reveal the treat. "Don't you want some? Papa will give you some, yeah?"
Baby looked skeptical now, and at that moment, he resembled you so much—accusing eyes, pursed lips, exactly like the expression you would pull when you were unsure of what Satoru might do next. He almost chuckled at the resemblance, feeling giddy.
"C'mon, forgive me, yeah?" he patted his son's little beanie and offered his hand for him to take, eyes crinkling in fondness. "Now, here comes your treat, come closer?"
Your baby crawled closer, seemingly accepting him, and Satoru was all smiles, until—
Whack!
It happened in a flash. He could have avoided it, but he was too taken aback. The pain exploded in his jaw, so intense that he grunted loudly.
"What the—?! You... you—! You kicked me— in the face!"
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husseinshamia · 2 months ago
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My little boy Ayham 🍉👶
asks to live in peace and safety 🍉🕊️ with his baby brother My children are suffering despite the lack of food and basic supplies and the rising prices day after day,
and my 3-month-old baby has already been infected with a skin infection 😢 Please donate generously and share widely. To reach the goal as soon as possible 🙏♥️
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Please donate and share 🙏♥️
My account vetted by :
@bilal-salah0
@queerstudiesnatural
@lonniemachin
Thank you
#palestine #free palestine #donations #donate if you can #please donate #gofundme #go fund them #donate #donation #go fund her #palestine gfm #gaza gfm #gazan families #fundraising #go fund me #fundrasier #save gaza #save palestine #please #please help #help gaza #mutual aid #donation match #charity #go fund him #gaza #gaza strip #emergency #hope #important
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theautumnpicker · 1 year ago
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Astarion follows Gale's gaze into the mirror and views from there the flush on his cheeks, his wide-eyed stare. He softens, circling his arms around Gale's body as he leans back against him. Don't tempt me, says Gale, and in the next moment he is putting a hand in his hair and guiding his head back down to his throat.
"Gods," he breathes against his skin, "now that is dangerous." He nibbles on Gale's neck, his fangs pressing the surface of the skin but not puncturing it. "You make it very hard to practice self-restraint, pickle." One of his hands rises from its resting place on Gale's stomach to reach his throat instead, tilting his jaw back, resting possessively on his neck.
Heroically, Astarion lifts his head and kisses him on the cheek instead. "Tomorrow is too important, my treat. Any other time and I'd indulge you. I promise. But you really mustn't urge me to keep going; it can be difficult enough to stop without your making it harder." He releases his neck, his finger remaining to trace his jugular as he presses kisses to his shoulder. "It's dreadful having to say no to you. Poor, dear thing, I want to give you everything you ask for."
The sweetness of that reassurance ghosts upon his neck, a forewarning to the lips that press there. His breath hitches in his throat, turning him to stone, some pathetic fool who looked a gorgon in the eye. But of his own eyes, wide and unblinking, they stare at the mirror, into nothingness what should be his lover's reflection.
"Truly so." He exhales. It is too late to hide the redness which scolds his cheeks, the shiver that twinges each flexing muscle in his back. "Don't tempt me dearest. I'm not at my wisest this very moment." He draws the cloth upon his wounded neck, careful not to break the dried blood.
Broad shouldered he leans into Astarion, watching his indulgence. Generous, in love, a desire to be wanted. His bicep flexes as he reaches behind himself, sifting fingers through curly silver hair. "If you could stomach another bite of your indulgent treat, I think I've got a touch more to spare."
Eyes shut, he tips his head, lining up his lover's lips.
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whisperofwonder · 2 months ago
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Kuroo Tetsurou knows how to tie a tie. He wore one every day of high school, after all. It's not a difficult skill to master. Truthfully, he could probably do it in his sleep.
But, all those years ago, you offered so sweetly. It wasn't hard for him to say, sheepishly, "Sure. I'm not too good with these things."
Ever since, it's one of the most cherished parts of his morning routine. He watches as you hold up random ties from his collection, eying them thoughtfully before making your selection. You stand so close to him, your gentle fingers turning up his collar and looping the tie around his neck. He can smell your shampoo, feel the warmth of your skin. Your fingertips brush the sensitive skin of his neck as you make the knot, sending tiny thrills of electricity through him each time.
"There," You always say as you smooth his collar down, "Perfect." You give the knot one final tug, and it's a familiar signal. He closes the gap, pressing a kiss to your lips as you finally let go of the tie.
"Thanks, babe," He always murmurs against your lips before he pulls away.
You always grin. "Have a good day, today."
He thinks he's done well, all these years, hiding the truth from you. His one harmless fib.
It's his cousin's wedding. He's surprised to learn how many of the groomsmen really don't know how to tie a tie. He's going around the room, tying one tie after another, when he hears a familiar voice just inside the door. Freezing halfway though the final one, he slowly turns, caught in the act. You're crossing the room before he can even begin to feel foolish.
"I always knew, you know," You say simply, a teasing smile making your eyes dance. You tug the tie draped loosely around his own neck, the one he'd been saving for last. "Need a little help with that?"
As you carefully tie the tie for him, then tug him down for a sweet kiss, he thinks he might be falling in love with you all over again.
(part 2)
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dollfacefantasy · 3 months ago
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I WANNA BE YOURS ♡
pairing: logan howlett x puppy-hybrid!fem!reader
summary: logan finds you, a special kind of mutant, out on a mission. when he takes in this puppy girl, you quickly forms a bond to him. he tries to tell himself he doesn't like his new shadow or want the attention, but it gets harder to deny as the two of you grow closer.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), hybrids, breeding kink, praise kink, dumbification, fluff, canon-typical violence, blood, nightmares
a/n: thank you so much to @gor3-hound and @nexysworld for beta reading <33
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Adamantium strains against the skin between Logan's knuckles as his fists collide with his opponents' bodies. His claws beg to come out, to slice through his own skin and into the men he's striking. Despite causing himself pain, it would make this little struggle easier.
Regardless, he reigns in the urge and continues to fight without them. He didn't need them yet. Having a skeleton of impenetrable metal served as the only weapon he needed for right now. These guys taking him on weren't anything special, simple lackeys hired to protect a facility they didn't even understand the operation of.
His unpierced knuckles land a few strikes to one's abdomen, and he pops the other's face with his elbow. He whips his forearm around and slams the first to the ground in a finishing blow. The other man comes crashing down close behind after he connects his fist with the center of his face.
He looks at both of them crumpled up and unconscious on the ground, shaking off the adrenaline from the scuffle with a few rolls of his shoulders. He swipes the set of keys that hang off the belt of one who went down first and reconvenes with the rest of the team at the point of entrance to the next part of this warehouse.
"Did you find a way to open the doors?" Storm asks him. The white-haired woman struts beside him to the large cement doors at the end of the hallway.
Logan holds up the set of metallic keys, giving them a little jingle as his answer.
"Wow, and without shedding any blood. Impressive," Cyclops mocks from behind. Him and Jean walk a couple paces to the back of him, their eyes scanning for any potential hindrances to the mission.
"Night's not over yet, bub."
The four of them reach the door, and fortunately, it only takes a few tests to determine which key is meant for this lock. Before either Logan or Storm can push the barrier open, the door swings back under the force of Jean's telepathy.
They head inside but brace themselves for what they might see. This mission came about after the professor discovered that this building was being used as some kind of location to traffic mutants. The team had dealt with cases like this before, and they were never pretty. Often, the victims were young and struggling, picked up off the street or gathered from false mutant shelters to be sold into a life of experimentation or fetishization.
Upon first glance, this section of the building holds nothing new. The room isn't large in comparison to the others before it and looks more like a connector between the last hallway and another one. It's dark, not much light to get a good look at anything that could be hiding away.
Storm is eager to keep moving along and guides them towards the entrance to the next hallway. His other two teammates overtake him as well and follow behind her.
"I'm gonna sniff around here for a minute. I'll be right behind you," Logan says and waves them forward.
The two women spare him a skeptic glance, but Scott couldn't be more eager to part from him. They head off in the other direction, leaving Logan alone in the quiet between these four walls.
He just wanted to be sure there was nothing here, whether it be something he could help or something meaning to do them harm. Though he kind of hoped it was the latter. He never felt very good at the 'saving' part of being on this team. Let him go in a room full of threats, and he was guaranteed to be successful. He'd take every last one down in record time and not even have to think twice about it. But give him one person to comfort and tell that everything is gonna be ok, and that would have him breaking a sweat. It's not that he couldn't do it; he simply had to work at it. He didn't have to work at being a weapon.
Treading over the pavement cautiously, Logan's eyes sweep over the few vacant shelves and lonely crates. The room truly seemed unoccupied. He could probably only justify a few more feet before having to go join the rest of the team. But then he sees it.
A cage towards the back of the room, a tarp over the top. It sat near a smaller door he hadn't noticed before. He wasn't too concerned with going in just yet. First he wanted to see if anything was confined behind those thin black bars.
It was larger than a simple pet kennel but too small to give the impression that held anything monstrous. He walks closer to it. No sound came from it nor could he see any movement, but his curiosity had been triggered. He had to know why this thing had been secluded.
Once he's close enough, he crouches down and pushes away the rough white material draped over it. His fingers undo the latch and open the door so he could get a better look inside.
He peers in and is met with a pair of eyes staring back at him out of the darkness. His first instinct is to back up and get into a defensive position, but whatever's inside doesn't give him the chance.
You lunge at him and knock him flat onto his back.
He hits the cement with a grunt, and his claws cry out to him again. He could easily unsheathe them and tear whatever you were to shreds. But before he does this, he realizes that this isn't an attack. He's not in any kind of pain. In fact, nothing is really happening to him. All you were doing was... sniffing him?
He could hear your rapid inhales and exhales as your nose trailed along the collar of his white tank top. Straining his neck back as much as he can, he finally gets a good look at you. You were human - smaller than most with wide, curious eyes - but you also had floppy ears erupting from your scalp and a long tail coming from your backside that was whipping back and forth.
Even with all the different kinds of mutants he'd seen, he couldn't help thinking this was bizarre at first glance. He knew it was possible for mutations to express physically even though most were internal. For god's sake he had literal claws and knew multiple people who were straight up blue. But he'd never seen anything like this.
You looked like just a mix of canine and human. In honesty, you were pretty cute. You didn't look like the type of thing someone would shout 'freak' at from across the street. Hybrid was probably a more accurate descriptor than mutant. Either way, he didn't want you on top of him.
"Quit it," he growls before grabbing your waist and pushing you off. Based on the fact that you weren't attacking, he assumes you're a victim rather than a perpetrator. He rises to his feet to stand above you, ready to fight just in case. "What the hell are you supposed to be?"
You sit there, tail still wagging despite his rough temperament. Your eyes have that gleam that likens your appearance to a puppy even more than your ears or tail do. He realizes you might not be able to talk or something, but he doesn't get too far with that thought before you speak.
"A mutant. Like you."
His eyes narrow.
"Yeah? How do you know I'm a mutant?" he asks. He hadn't shown you his claws and you hadn't seen his skin magically stitch itself back together. Maybe you were on the other side of this mission.
"I can smell it," you answer.
That makes his eyebrow slowly raise. "Smell it?" he says.
You nod. "Mutants smell different than humans," you say.
You rise to your feet and stand next to him. Leaning in again, you smell his arm. Your head moves down his bicep and to his elbow and forearm. He pulls his limb away with a scowl, but you'd already had a chance to register the scent that'd caught your attention.
"You smell metallic too," you say.
So your canine traits weren't just physical. Logan knew you weren't lying, having an enhanced olfaction himself. He'd just never met someone else who also had that ability.
"Your mutation is basically just being an overgrown dog then?" he asks with a bemused expression, "You like playing fetch? Want me to call you a good girl?"
You can't help the automatic twitch in your tail when you hear that phrase, but your expression darkens as if a storm cloud had formed inches above those folded ears. 
"I'm not a dog. If I'm a dog, are you like a robot since you have metal in you?" you huff and cross your arms.
A sharp puff of air comes from his nostrils at your attempted retort. "Robot isn't exactly what they call me."
You grumble and roll your eyes. Your tail had gone still behind you and hung between your legs.
He continues to stare down at you, trying to decide what to do next. Even though you were a mutant, you didn't seem to be a fighter or have any skills that would be useful in combat. He wasn't just going to leave you here, but he didn't know how big a risk it would be to let you tag along.
"What are you doing here? Did someone lock you in that cage, or is that just where you spend your free time?" he asks.
"Someone took me and locked me in there," you say, your pout deepening.
"For how long?"
You shrug. Logan has the urge to roll his eyes just as you did, but he can tell your lack of knowledge is genuine.
"You don't know how long you were in there?" he prompts.
"No. Maybe like... a couple weeks or something. I don't know. It's hard to keep track."
Of course. Just like a puppy, you had a poor concept of time. He shakes his head and rubs his hand over his face. It did look like you'd been captive for a few weeks. You weren't in the best shape and had bruises littering your body. Your clothes were dirty and torn at the hems. As annoying as he found you in the few minutes he'd known you, he knew you didn't deserve this treatment. Locking a cute little thing like you in a cage was plain cruelty.
"Alright. Well what's your name? I'm Logan," he sighs.
You tell him, but just as the last syllable leaves your lips, footsteps burst into the room from the direction of the hallway.
Scott and Jean round the corner, clearly looking for their teammate. Logan turns around to see the new arrivals and relaxes when he recognizes the man in the visor and the redhead beside him. 
"There you are. We thought you took off or something," Scott mocks casually.
He opens his mouth to respond, but the words dissolve when he feels a thud against his back. 
You don’t recognize the people who'd just shown up, so you hide yourself behind the man who found you. Pressing yourself against his back, you cautiously tilt your head to his side to peek at Scott and Jean. Your fingers clutch the fabric of Logan's tank top so tight they threaten to poke little holes in the ribbed material.
"What- what are you doing?" he grunts and tries to look over his shoulder at you. The way you were latched onto him prevented him from turning around fully. He lifts one of his arms to see your eyes scoping out the potential danger in front of him.
"Get- C'mon get off. They're not gonna hurt you," he continues, brushing you off by reaching back and lightly tugging your hair.
You stumble to the side, and he manages to grab your shoulders and walk you in front of him. He holds you there, presenting you to Scott and Jean. The way your ears pin back to your head makes him feel a little guilty about making you confront the strangers so directly, but they weren't gonna do anything to you. Assuming they were gonna rescue you and take you back to Xavier's, you'd have to get used to prying eyes and meeting new people.
Both Scott and Jean look at you curiously, Jean with less confusion than Scott. Clearly, he had a similar thought process to Logan while the woman next to him could sense that you were a mutant and what your abilities were.
"I found her in that cage back there," he explains.
The two of them nod. They take a few more moments to simply observe you before they move closer and ask for your name. You give it just like you had to Logan. They nod again and then begin running through a similar routine of questions. Theirs are more detailed though and manage to coax more information out of you.
Your responses give them a quick little rundown of you. You fit the profile of the people they usually found on these missions. You're young, early 20s, struggling because getting a job was nearly impossible with your ears and tail. You had no family. They'd given you up after your mutation began to manifest. Everyone thinks puppies are cute, but apparently, no one wanted a human child that shared features with them. You'd been taken from the shelter you were staying at like most others who found themselves in this situation.
As you answer each one posed to you, Logan feels you subtly sinking back against him. Your back meets his abdomen like two magnets slowly being pulled together. Despite the annoyed look on his face, he doesn't say anything or pull away.
When the brief interrogation comes to a close, Scott relays to Logan that they had found other victims in another part of the facility. Storm was with them now, guiding them to the extraction point where they'd be taken to safety. The four of you just had to follow along.
Scott and Jean lead the way. Logan follows behind and you trot along beside him. He notices you're staying close to him in particular.
"Did the guys who took you say anything else about why they wanted you?" he asks. The fact that you were kept separate was still lingering in his mind. To him it didn't mean anything good.
You shrug and look up at him. "They didn't really talk to me that much unless they were being mean or spitting at me. Or kicking the cage," you say.
You say it like it's casual, but he can tell it hurts. He knows how it feels to an extent. All mutants do. Not many people will openly talk shit about a guy with metal claws, but the sentiment is still there. The idea that you're inferior. That something is wrong with you. That you don't belong in this life.
He just nods, not knowing much else to offer as comfort. "Did you ever overhear them talking about you? Any reason they wouldn't have put you with the others?"
"I think they wanted to figure out if there was more of me. Or if they could make anymore at least," you say after taking a moment to think, "Cause you know. Guys like the whole puppy thing. Makes me worth more I guess."
He cringes at the ugly picture you paint with those words.
The group of you continues walking, footsteps being the only sound in the hallway. Your tail had started wagging again which makes him feel a little better about not offering anything in terms of reassurance. But when you reach the room where the other victims had been, your tail comes to a halt and droops between your legs.
A party of men is spread throughout the area. They walk around scanning the now empty space, visibly incensed at their captives being freed. You slide yourself against Logan's back again, but you don't try to peek at them like you did with Scott and Jean. It doesn't take much to figure out that these are the ones who kept you in that cage.
They hear the team and you approaching and turn to face you. Despite your efforts to hide, they spot you before you're completely concealed behind the bulk of Logan's muscular frame. The one closest scowls at your attempt.
"I'm guessing the three of you know what happened to the things we had in here?" he says, sarcasm lacing each word.
"You could say that. And those people are long gone by now, so it's probably best you move on," Scott answers. His fingers rise to his temple in preparation to operate his visor.
The men don't seem to be threatened. The amalgamation of them tightens, forming a more crowded cluster.
"Yeah, you're probably right. But you're not leaving with that one," the same one says and gestures to you hiding, "She stays here."
"Not gonna happen, bub," Logan responds so quickly it surprises even himself.
His teammates also look interested in his seeming budding attachment to you, but they know better than to squabble in front of adversaries.
You are the only one the words don't strike in any sort of way, but that's because you didn't totally hear them. You're too busy trembling, hoping with everything you had that Logan wouldn't force you in front of him again and then kick you into the group of guys.
But obviously, that doesn't happen. There's more arguing that you don't hear because you choose to tune it out. You can sense Logan becoming more agitated and the air around everyone becoming more tense. Your body grows more rigid, your ears glued back to your scalp. You just want this to be over.
As these thoughts whirl through your mind, the arguing comes to a head, and Logan launches away from you. You feel naked without his large body shielding yours. 
Scott and Jean aid him. Your first inclination is to turn the other direction and just try to stay out of the way. You weren't confident in your combat skills. If you could seriously fight, you probably wouldn't have gotten snatched up. You didn't want to be the reason any of these people who were trying to help you got hurt.
But then you see someone coming up behind Logan brandishing a knife. It's out of your control, the way your muscles go taut and your lip curls back. You'd only ever been in a real fight once before in your life, and you don't remember feeling this vicious. You spring up behind the man, finding where his shoulder meets his neck and biting down hard.
The cries of agony and grunts of anger seem to go on forever. The smell of blood invades your nostrils as you deal with your target. He'd fallen to the floor when your teeth sunk into his flesh. You feel him thrashing underneath you as you rip and tear, but you don't stop until he's gone still. You then pull off and wipe your mouth, twisting around to sit on the abdomen of your incapacitated enemy.
Logan also had no difficulty dealing with the men coming at him. There were just more of them, so he took a little longer. After one last thud of a body crumpling to the floor, only heavy breathing sounds through the warehouse.
Jean and Scott seem fine. They stand there checking each other over, and you see them share a brief kiss. You glance over towards Logan next and decide to return to his side.
He's alone. The sounds of panting are mostly coming from him. His body glistens, muscles lightly coated in perspiration. His scent is stronger to you now, and it only grows more overwhelming as you approach him. Men lie at his feet with pools of blood around them, presumably the same crimson liquid that stains his hands, wrists, and forearms in streaks.
You make your next move without thinking. Coming up to his side, trying in vain to avoid getting your ratty socks soaked with blood, you press your cheek against his bicep and snake your arms around his.
He then looks down at you. His eyebrows raise at the blood that coats your mouth and chin and trails down your shirt. You hadn't seemed like any type of predator before. Your presence was more akin to a puppy that'd be torn apart by wolves than anything that could do anyone harm.
"How'd you do that?" he asks.
Your finger rises and hooks under your upper lip, pulling it back to reveal your canines, sharper than a normal person's.
He nods and watches you with some mixture of curiosity, irritation, and fondness.
"Pretty good," he says simply.
You beam at the praise, blood-stained lips parting into a wide smile. He feels your tail wag harder and brush against the back of his leg.
The touch is nice. It makes him more conscious of the way you're still holding onto him, your hand curled around his muscle and your hip against his. He's not sure what it is. A silent thank you, a note of understanding, or a pledge of loyalty.
But he doesn't need a thank you, someone to understand him or devote themself to him. He's just doing what he's supposed to.
He slides his arm out of your clutches and gently pats you on the head.
"C'mon, let's get going," he says and starts walking towards the exit.
You trot wordlessly behind him, which he's grateful for. But more than that, he's just happy Scott didn't have anything to say about your sudden bond to him.
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Once the jet picked you up from the extraction point, the trip back to the school was a breeze. You mostly keep to yourself while trying to stick close to Logan. He sits you next to him and cleans up your face, but you sleep for most of the actual traveling time to the destination.
You hadn't realized how tired you were until the seat hit your back and the buckles of the seat belt latched over your chest. With that manifestation of security, your eyes began drooping and your head was drifting to your shoulder like it was your center of gravity.
Logan's voice is what wakes you up. It's unclear to you how much time has passed, but that doesn't bother you. You feel him gently jostling you before unbuckling the straps across your chest. He calls your name a few times until your bleary eyes open and focus on his face.
"There you are," he says, "C'mon. We're here."
You still watch him without saying a word. Your hand rubs over your face to try and pull yourself closer to being awake. He watches you before offering his hand.
"I'm not carrying you, so you need to get up," he says in a tone you were becoming familiar with. It sounded irritated but not directly at you. Like this man was just in a constant state of being pissy about something.
You take the offer regardless and let him pull you to your feet. The two of you exit the jet together, him helping you out to ensure you don't trip on the gap between the ramp and the ground.
Once you're out, your eyes widen. You expected a boarding school to be pretty fancy, but this was nicer than any place you'd ever been. The walls stretched up the sky, crafted with bricks and decorated with large glass windows. The path there was paved and bordered with kept plants. You could see beyond that though. The large expanse of the property. So much space to run and do things.
Logan watches your reaction with amusement. "It's a lot to take in when you first get here," he says.
You nod, and your eyes continue to dart around and absorb the sight of everything. Storm and Jean lead the others who were saved off to another part of the building to be reunited with their families or taken back to their lives or even given verifiable resources. But you don't want to go with them.
You grab Logan's hand and look up at him, shaking your head.
His first reaction is to try and pull his hand free of you, but you have a tighter grip than expected. "What? What's the matter?" he asks you while still trying worm his hand out of your finger's lock.
You don't know how to articulate it because what you want is very simple. You want to stay with him. You want to stay here. You don't want to go back out to the world where people point and laugh at you or turn you away from everything. You just don't know how to say that without it seeming weird.
Luckily for you, Scott gives you a bit of help. You're not sure if that's his intention or not, but either way, you're grateful for the help.
"Maybe we should take her to the Professor. He might want to see about her mutation or ask her about that stuff back there," he tells Logan. You can tell from the way Scott speaks that he doesn't really like him too much.
Logan thinks about it for a moment before nodding. Before leading you there, he uses his other hand to pry your fingers off of him. You frown at the loss of connection and shoot him a glare. That brings an actual smile to his face.
"Follow along, pup. Don't need you getting lost," he says as he turns to guide you down the halls of the school.
The sun hadn't even risen, so not too many people occupied the common rooms. You catch sight of a few. They stare back at you, but unlike what you're used to, they don't look at you with disdain or mocking. It's simple, innocent curiosity. The only thing that seems to worry them is the bright red stain going down the front of your shirt.
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Inside the room had been an older guy in a wheelchair. The professor talked the nicest out of all the men you'd been around today. When he looked at you, you felt like he understood you. He didn't even seem perplexed like Scott or Logan had. He'd merely said you were "interesting."
He talked to you for a while. He asked similar questions similar to the ones you already answered, but the third round of them got even deeper than the last two. Once he revealed that he could enter your thoughts if he wanted, that made a lot of sense.
Though he didn't really need his ability to understand you. Your experiences were written all over your face, practically sewn into the seams of your clothes.
He could see how, like every mutant, you led a life dominated by rejection. But in a different way than most others of your kind, you were vaguely familiar. Seeing someone with a tongue ten feet long or with blue skin or claws was jarring. It was weird.
But you - you look like a cute puppy. You walk the line between disturbing and endearing.
Charles can also see how you long for belonging even deeper than most. It's as if your mutation gives you the drive to seek out affection, for someone to devote yourself to. He can tell this by the way you linger around Logan.
If he moved an inch, you followed in the same direction. If he looked away, your eyes followed along. You were only settled if he was looking at you, not in danger of leaving your vicinity.
After talking to you for a while, hearing about your abilities and getting to understand your personality, he offers to let you stay at the school. He tells you it might be beneficial for you, and if you don't like it, you're welcome to leave anytime. It's only meant to give you a chance to understand your gifts and learn to control them and use them for good.
Of course, you accept. It wasn't even a question.
"Wonderful. Scott, show her to the extra rooms she can stay in and the shower so she can clean up a bit," Charles says. He watches as your eyes flit to Logan and then Scott. He also sees Scott's uncertainty as to why he was given this job.
But he nods and gestures for you to follow him, which you reluctantly do.
You trail him silently up the stairs, and he gives you a little guide to where everything is. He gestures at the direction of the student wing and the staff wing and then takes you to the latter. He points out the different bedrooms and grabs you a change of clothes on the way to the bathrooms.
He's nice to you. A little stiff, but he still smiles and laughs softly at quips he makes or your skeptical reactions to things. You want to ask him about his sunglasses, but you figure that'd be rude so you refrain. When he leaves you at the bathroom door, he tells you to just call if you need anything cause he's right down the hall.
Stepping inside, you peer around the expansive room. You'd never seen a bathroom so large. It was nice like everything else was in this place. The counter was spotless and smooth. The tile was sleek with a soft mat beneath your feet at the door and waiting for you in front of the shower.
You undress yourself quickly and turn on the water, waiting for it to heat before stepping inside. There's some products on the shelf inside that you use. You lather the soap on your hands and rub it over yourself fast. It felt really good, especially since you hadn't had a proper shower while being held captive. But you still work at a sped up pace. Although the novelty of everything had impressed you at first, you were beginning to yearn to be by Logan again. It wasn't a need that would make you lose control, just a little itch like a bug crawling up the path of your veins.
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Downstairs, Charles kept Logan behind in his office so the two could talk. They briefly recap the mission before moving to the subject that was the true reason for the extended conversation.
"It seems she's quite taken with you," the older man starts simply.
"I guess," Logan responds, his voice unamused with the idea.
Charles huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. He goes to say something else, but the other man carries on the conversation himself.
"She'll get over it. She's like a little duck following around the first person she sees," he says and crosses his arms.
"I think you underestimate her intelligence, Logan. She's not a helpless animal-"
"I know that," he interjects quickly.
"She's one of us. She's formed an attachment to you for whatever reason. I would like her to stay here for at least for a little while to examine the traits of her mutation. I've never seen any that so closely mimic an already existing animal," he explains, "But I want to know that you're ok with that."
Logan scoffs. "Why wouldn't I be? That doesn't have anything to do with me."
"While she's here, she's most likely going to want to be around you. I just wanted to make sure that's not something you're wholly uncomfortable with."
"Please. I can handle it," he dismisses.
Charles watches him, ever-entertained by how hard he tries to present the idea that he's unaffected. 
"If you say so," he says, "Just try not to scare off too quickly."
"I'll play nice," he says.
A few more words, and he's dismissed. He turns on his heel and heads out the same doors he entered. Just as he does, you glide down the stairs into his field of vision, tail wagging lazily behind you over the waistband of the sweats Scott gave you.
When you see him, it swishes a bit faster and your ears perk up. His eyes narrow.
"What are you doing down here? Didn't Scott show you where to go?" he asks.
You nod and prance down the remaining steps. Truthfully, you'd been seeking the man before your eyes, but you couldn't just say that.
"Am I not allowed to look around?" you ask.
His eyes remain hard on your face. "Aren't you tired? Mauling that guy didn't take anything out of you?"
A subtle pout forms on your lips, and you consider retreating back to the bedroom you'd been given. He clearly wasn't in the mood for you right now.
Logan sees the reaction his words brought on. He feels that little sliver of guilt shifting around inside him. Maybe his phrasing hadn't been the best... but then again why did he give a shit?
"How about we just get you back to bed? I'll show you around more tomorrow," he suggests.
You take what you can get and nod, your features slightly elevating at the form of peace he offers you. He retraces your steps up the stairs and down the hall with you on his heels. He spots the room Scott had picked for you. The door was ajar from how you'd left it to go find him.
He leads you inside but remains in the doorway himself. There really wasn't any reason to stay, so he should probably be leaving...
"Have you been here a long time?" you ask suddenly.
His eyes land on you again. You were perched on the end of your bed that was still fully made up, the comforter tucked in and everything.
"What?" he asks.
"Have you been here long? Scott said he's been here since he was a teenager," you say.
"Oh. No. Only a little while," he says. "I'm still pretty new here too."
That makes you happy, it's obvious from the hope that gleams in your eyes. "Are you like a teacher too? Or... something else?"
"What would that something else be?" he asks with a smirk, taking a few steps into the room with you, "Having a hard time picturing me teaching?"
"Well I just mean-" you try to justify before laughing a little, giving in, "Yeah. I can't really see it."
"Me neither. I'm not a teacher. I just help out sometimes," he says.
He walks even closer to you, causing your head to tilt up to look at him. Now you really looked like a puppy.
This close, he was all you could smell. You could see every individual hair on his forearm. It felt as though you could hear the strong beat of his heart. His eyes pierced into you from above, and you wondered if he was observing you in a similar manner.
"You gonna sleep on top of these blankets?" he asks.
The mention of something else besides him snaps you out of your little Logan-centric daze. You look around at the bedding and then back up at his head. The two styled points of dark hair look like he has two ears of his own mirroring yours.
"No. I'll fix them," you say and stand up to tug them free, "I don't need you to tuck me in."
"I wasn't offering to. I just don't want you getting up and trying to 'look around' again. Don't need you getting lost and wandering to my bed."
The idea brings heat to your cheeks and neck. It sounded nice for so many reasons. But the bed you had now outmatched the hard bottom of the cage you'd been sleeping on, so you weren't going to try and swing for more.
Once the comforter and sheets are peeled down, you climb back on the bed and sit against the pillows. There's a small pause. A puddle of silence pooling between the two of you. You don't know what else to ask, but you feel if you don't say anything he's gonna leave. So you pull out the first thing you can think of.
"What is your actual mutation?"
His brows rise with interest, and he closes the gap between you by sitting on the edge of your bed. Curiosity shines from his eyes onto you, silently questioning why you wanted to know.
"I know you're not actually a robot, but I can still smell the metal and stuff. What does it do?" you ask.
"The metal isn't my mutation," he says.
He raises his fist about a foot away from your face. His fingers are balled up tight against his hand. You cock your head, wondering what he's showing you.
Before you can ask any questions though, three shining metal claws emerge from between his knuckles. They come out slowly, a pace prolonged enough to be considered teasing. Your eyes widen at the sharp points and you scoot back, smooshing the pillows against your head board. All you can wonder is if he didn't take them out earlier or if you really had missed something so monumental.
His laugh rises in volume. "Relax, I'm not gonna cut you."
The claws come to a halt when fully extended. You wait just in case something else is going to happen, but nothing does. You bring your finger up and poke at the hard surface. They were so beautiful but unnatural too. You'd never seen anything like them.
"But I didn't see anywhere for them to come out?" you say softly.
He flexes his hand and extends his fingers, retracting the claws much quicker than they appeared.
"There is no place for them to come out of," he says and offers you his hand.
You frown at the little cuts the sharp rods left in their wake, but like little zippers, they close up. You blink at his hand. All evidence of his mutation was gone.
"So you can heal? And you have claws?" you say more to yourself than him, "Does it still hurt when they come out?"
He nods and watches you examine his hand.
Upon seeing his confirmation, you can't even help what you do next. You pull his limb a little closer and kiss each spot where a claw had emerged. Every phantom cut gets a soft smooch left where it would soon reappear.
"What are you doing?" Logan asks, her arm tensing up on instinct.
You glance at his face before releasing his hand. "Oh... sorry," you say and shrug sheepishly.
To your surprise, he doesn't scold or chastise you, doesn't get up to leave in a hurry. He simply pulls his hand back and gives you another look before saying good night.
"Get some good sleep. Like I said, I'll show you around tomorrow," he says.
You slip down in the bed, resting your head on the plush pillows and pulling the blanket up over your form. He heads out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.
A deep exhale leaves his lungs. He shakes some of that tension loose. What had he been doing? It almost felt like some different person had taken over him in there. Another version of himself that didn't have to be reminded to 'play nice.'
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The few weeks you're supposed to stay at the school stretches out into a longer timeframe. It'd now been a few months since that day he found you in the cage and set you free. Though that month or so you'd spent locked up turned out to be worth it because you now had a place that made you happier than anywhere you'd lived before. You had a family.
You had Jean and Storm who were helping you train so you could one day go on missions with them. You had the Professor who taught you more about yourself than you had ever thought to ask. Scott was there too.
And of course, you had Logan.
Logan. As much as he tried to seem reluctant, to appear uncaring and nonchalant, he had grown to enjoy your company more with each passing day that you followed him like a shadow.
It was irritating at first. Before, he'd been able to drift through the school relatively unnoticed. Now, every single place he went, he was trailed by whoosh whoosh whoosh. The sound of your tail going back and forth. Anything he tried to do was accompanied by the feeling of two glimmering eyes trained on him. He'd tried to brush you off, but you didn't waver.
"Don't you have anything better to do than stalk me?" he'd ask, shooting a side eye your way.
"No," you'd respond.
"Well, find something."
"I don't wanna."
And who was he to argue with that?
In a way, the bond you seemed to have formed with him was flattering. It seemed like he could do anything, and you'd never view him as anything but the greatest creation to grace this earth. So he just lets you follow him around. He assumes after a while, you'll see him for what he is and lose interest, or you'll just grow bored of him and find something else to be the object of your obsession. Though so far that day hadn't come.
After a while of you always at his side, he started to cave and include you in his little routines.
One day he was doing sit ups at the foot of his bed while you sat nearby. His body rose and fell, abdomen kissing his thighs in regular intervals. But every time he came up, he found himself looking over at you.
"Hey, pup," he said, the nickname he developed for you coming out effortlessly, "C'mere for a second."
Your ears perked up. You weren't usually involved in what he was doing. You scoot over to him and kneel at his feet, awaiting a command. You could be so obedient sometimes it nearly made him feel guilty.
"You wanna help me with something?" he asked. As he expected, you nodded right away, so he continued, "Just hold my feet down. These only work if your feet stay flat. So just make sure they do."
You gave him another dutiful nod and got in position. Your hands held his feet down as he worked out just like he asked. Each time he came up off the ground, you looked at him with a big goofy smile.
That was just the first thing. From then on, the two of you actually did stuff together rather than just going about your things nearby one another. He'd help you train, and you'd help him clean Scott's bike when he finished using it.
Tonight, exhaustion aches in your bones after running around all day. On top of that, you'd had so much stuff to do yourself that you'd barely even seen Logan all day.
When the sun's finally down and the students have all retired to their bedrooms, you find him in the living room. He's leaned back into the couch, nursing a bottle of something. You assume it's not beer since you're at a school, but with how often he lamented about that limitation, you wouldn't put it past him to sneak one in.
You hop over the arm rest and curl up on the opposite side of the couch from him. He looks over at you, not displeased with your presence.
"There you are. I thought you finally got tired of me and found someone else to bother," he teases.
"I could never do that," you reply with the same playful cadence. You scoot a little closer. "I was just super busy today. The Professor was having me talk to some of the students, and then Scott needed me to grab something for him from the shed. It was really hard to find, so it took a while. Then I had to do my own training, and Jean made me try on some sizes for my suit..."
As you chatter on about your day, Logan finds himself nodding along, even occasionally reacting to what you say. He's not rolling his eyes or telling you to leave him alone. It's weird, but he can't say he wants to feel differently.
"Sounds like they're working you like a dog," he says when your story has reached an end.
Your face darkens like it had on the day he met you, shooting him a quick glare as a reminder not to say the forbidden d-word.
"Right, sorry," he corrects, "It just sounds like they're running you ragged. Don't let 'em work you too hard. Scott can get his own shit."
He still didn't understand your hang up about that word. He could call you pup, puppy, or any variation of that, and you'd react with nothing but joy. But utter d-o-g in your vicinity, and he felt like he was at risk of getting his throat chomped on. Luckily, it only takes his small apology for your normal demeanor to make its return.
"It's ok. I don't mind helping. I like having stuff to do," you say and shrug.
"I thought your 'stuff to do' was watching over me," he jokes and leans forward, placing his bottle down on the table.
You're not sure why, but you take that as an invitation to scoot even closer to him.
"I thought you wanted me to find better stuff to do."
"Fair," he chuckles, "Maybe this is one of those things where I'm not gonna realize I miss something until it's gone."
He brings his hand up from the back of the couch to massage the base of one of your ears. The soft fluff feels almost luxurious against the rough pads of his finger tips. He knew you loved the sensation. It had been an accidental discovery, something he did one time as a joke. But the way you melted into the touch had been more than just funny to him.
You lean into it now and nuzzle his palm.
"It was just one day. It's not like a permanent new routine."
"For now. Then soon enough, I'm gonna catch you trailing somebody else with hearts in your eyes," he says and gently tugs your ear.
You laugh at the tug and the stupid words. "You will not. Plus, I don't have hearts in my eyes for you."
"Oh really?" he teases. He leans in, his face hovering a couple inches away from yours. "I think I can see some now."
The two of you stay locked in a stare for a few lingering seconds. He'd never been this close to you before. You'd never heard his voice lower in that way, sounding almost desiring. Heat starts to crawl up from your belly through your chest to your neck. Before it can reach your cheeks, you turn your head to face the tv.
"Shut up," you huff, choosing to play the interaction off as a joke.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see his grin. He chuckles and his arm returns to its place behind you, above your shoulders. Quiet blooms between the two of you, kept from being total silence only by the hushed noises of the tv set across the room. It doesn't feel awkward though even with the sudden shyness he'd brought over you.
You angle yourself and lean in so that you're sitting against his side. No words come from him, he simply lowers his arm to sling around your shoulders and keep you there. His thumb idly pets back and forth over the smooth skin of your forearm.
The heat of his body radiates from his side and into you. Makes you feel safe and comfortable. Like you're where you're supposed to be. It's easy to sink into him further and tilt your head to rest on his chest. Before long, your eyes feel a little droopy. Blinking feels sticky, and your mind just wants to retreat to the soft embrace of sleep.
Logan can tell. He's not sure of the feeling this knowledge brings him. Pride? Contentment? Affection? Instead of thinking about it harder, he just pulls you a little closer and lets you drift off. He considers saying something, letting you know he doesn't mind and that you don't have to try and stay up. But nothing comes from him and the quiet continues.
He watches you slowly slip away. Your neck loses the wherewithal to stay upright, and your breaths soften, blowing in and out in a thoughtless rhythm.
The feeling that flows through him takes him by surprise. Pure endearment towards you, not a hint of anything else. He lets you sleep there for the next hour or so. When you're still out cold after that time has passed, he's unsure of his next move. He doesn't want to wake you and shatter the peace that had settled over the room, but he had to head to bed himself and wasn't going to leave you stranded on the couch in the common room.
The light of the tv glows across the two of you as he mulls over his options. When he finally decides, he grabs the remote and shuts the device off, cloaking the room in darkness, spare the distant blinking lights that could be seen through the windows. He rises from the cushions that had molded to cradle his weight, making sure to keep a hand on you to prevent you from slumping over.
This time he doesn't shake you or offer a hand. He reaches around and tucks an arm under your legs. His other supports you across your shoulder blades as he lifts you into his arms. He traverses the furniture with caution, making sure to avoid bumping into a stray corner or tripping on a catch in the rug. Then he moves up the stairs. Your limp body bounces with each step.
He nudges the door open to your bedroom and takes you inside. Your scent seemed to fill the entire room. Every time he took a breath, he got a lungful of the heady smell. Your bedroom was so you now. The way you'd decorated it and splashed your personality over every inch, it'd be hard to believe that just a few months ago it had been so sparse.
What had been a blank bed, covered only by a plain duvet and thin pillows, now held your extra fluffy cushions, a nest of blankets, and your steadily-growing collection of plushies. Trinkets lined your shelves and tables, and you even displayed a few posters over the walls. It was you, all around him.
He walks the few paces to the edge of the mattress before laying your body down on the foamy surface. He drapes a nearby blanket over your form. Even though he's technically accomplished what he meant to, he doesn't leave yet. He lingers like he can't seem to help doing around you.
You're still fast asleep, unaware of the change in locations. He watches a haphazard swallow move through your throat before you settle into the familiar setting.
He finds himself not wanting to go back to his room. He'd been at the school longer than you and never made his own so nice. Really, he didn't think he could make it as nice. But that was just because nothing about him was as nice as you.
When the resolve to leave finally surfaces in him, he reaches out and rubs the base of your ear.
"See you in the morning," he murmurs. Unlike before, the rest of what he wants to say doesn't get tangled up in his throat. "My little puppy girl."
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That night won't leave your head for the next week. It almost feels like a dream. You'd woken up in your bed the next morning, assuming that's what it was. The undeniable change in location was the only thing that made your mind accept it as reality.
In the following days, things stayed the same for the most part, though you would have sworn, Logan acted a little less grumpy around you. Only by a microscopic degree, but enough for you to note the shift.
Nothing that big happens though. You don't even repeat the cuddling incident again. You kind of just assume that it was a one time thing. A nice experience, but not one to be repeated.
The memory of it floats through your mind often though. The pulse of his heart beating against your cheek, how you could hear it in your ear clear as day. Your stomach flutters at the thought of him actively pulling you closer, wanting you that close. You can feel your dedication to Logan blossoming into something more. It was already rooted so deep inside you that you didn't think it was possible, but you could feel it. The branches of reverence spreading in your chest and growing into something closer to adoration.
You could feel it now, sitting next to him on the bench in the school's spacious yard. He'd been tasked with watching some of the students for the afternoon, so of course, you tagged along. Shade speckled his face with alternating blotches of sunlight and gray. The stray beams of light made his eyes glow, and his hair shine all pretty. The sounds of the students practicing their abilities clouds the background of your focus, and they become even more distant when he suddenly turns to you.
"You're staring," he teases with that little smirk of his.
Your eyes flutter at the accusation. "No... I was not."
"Yeah you were. Even worse than usual."
"I just was thinking and zoned out," you defend, turning to face forward.
He hums in acknowledgement, obviously not believing your excuse. "Were you thinking about me?"
"You wish."
"I don't have to wish, puppy. You're not a very good liar."
You really weren't. Your tail swished with each beat of this little back and forth. Your ears pinned back to your head, folded over by the guilt of being caught. Everything you were feeling was made apparent by your supposed 'gifts.'
"Well whatever. Even if I was, it's none of your business," you say. A smile pulls at your lips. Your tells weren't solely from your mutation.
"If you say so," he taunts, one last jab before he returns his attention to the kids he was supposed to be supervising.
Nothing he said hinted at anything more than playful banter, but the way he spoke had them wrapped around your heart like unbreakable restraints. The way he said them made you feel like he wanted it this way. Wanted you to hear that smug cadence in your mind for the next few days. Maybe he found you entertaining. Maybe your emotions were a new game he discovered he liked to play with.
Hours later, you're curled up in your bed, by yourself as per usual. Everyone in the school had gone to bed, you and Logan had parted a while ago yourselves. 
Sleep weighs you down to the mattress, but your ears perk up automatically when they register a distant sound of distress. It's faint. If it happened alone, you would've just assumed it was part of your dream and not done anything else. But more follow it.
Your eyes crack open, still glazed with drowsiness as you come to. You listen for the sounds that disturbed you. For a moment, there's nothing. Just the gentle breeze outside your room and the crickets chirping in the cut grass in the yard.
Then it happens again. A normal person wouldn't be able to hear these sounds. They were reserved for you with your enhanced senses. It sounds like grunting and groaning though you can pick up the pained undertone of fear. The worst part of it to you is that immediately you know it's coming from Logan.
You swing your legs over the side of the bed, freeing them from the fleece warmth of your blankets. Padding out of the room, you cross the hall to his. You open the door in the specific way so that it doesn't creak and then shut it behind you. Your feet are gentle on the hardwood as they bring you closer to the source of the noise.
Once you're in, it's no mystery. Logan lays on his back in the center of his bed, shoulders twitching in agitation. He mumbles to himself, different words you can't make out. Your head cocks at the sight.
Approaching the side of his bed, you just watch him for a few more moments. When he doesn't wake up, you feel the urge to intervene. It felt wrong watching him suffer. Something pulled at your insides to help him.
You reach out and nudge his bicep. There's no effect. You do it a few more times but still nothing happens. Finally, you actually grip his shoulder and shake him gently, whispering into the darkness a simple "Logan."
That wakes him. No mistake about it. He gasps and snaps up. His claws come out from his hands without a second thought and slash at you. You hop back right away, tripping over your own feet and crashing onto the ground.
Your pulse thunders in your ears. The adrenaline coursing through you wasn't so much out of fear but rather confusion. Your mind was still a bit bogged by sleep itself, and at this moment, you're less concerned with Logan's reasoning and more so the logistics of a potential fight with him. Even though you had been training for the past several months, you had absolutely zero belief that you'd be able to beat him in a fight. Or even really compete for that matter.
Fortunately for you, it doesn't come to that. His eyes recognize you not long after his fists took the swing. You watch as his face morphs into a handful of different emotions in the span of about five seconds.
"I- what- how- I didn't-" he starts before getting a handle on his ability to speak, "I'm sorry."
Your body starts to come down from the brief high when it's clear he's not going to attack. You feel less wound up and let out a sigh. Your eyes remain inquisitive while gazing at him though. What did he dream about that made him freak out like that?
You guess it's not the best time to ask, so instead of pushing your luck, you push up off the ground and get your footing back. You step up to him at the edge of the bed and stand between his thighs. You plan on asking him if he's ok, but his arms reach out and yank you to his chest before you have the chance.
His hold is tight on you. The little half-hugs he'd given you a couple times before didn't compare at all. His arms were locked around you like they never intended to let go. You could hear him panting in your ear, and you could feel his heart thundering against both of your rib cages like it wanted to be released from its chamber.
"You're not hurt, are you?" he whispers.
You shake your head and wrap your arms around him too. The gesture relaxes him a lot, you can feel the tension seep away.
"Are you ok? I didn't mean to bother you, you just sounded like you needed help," you say at the same volume.
"You didn't bother me. I'm ok. I'm sorry. You don't have to worry about me like that."
His skin is warm and clammy against your own. You gently pat his back as some form of silent reassurance. Even if he wasn't as distraught as he had been a few minutes ago, you could tell the events that occurred were gnawing at him.
One of your hands drifts up, and you thread your fingers in his hair. It's like pulling a lever. He exhales deeply and pushes his face more against your neck.
"I'm sorry, pup," he murmurs.
You nuzzle the side of his head, and your heart nearly stops because he reciprocates this gesture with a few of the softest kisses you've ever felt, placed on your throat.
"I'd never hurt you on purpose. You know that."
You nod. Of course you knew that. And you would never say this to him out loud, but you felt so deeply for him, you weren't sure that your perception of him would have changed had his claws landed the strike on you.
Pulling back your head a little, you nudge his so you can see him. Both of your eyes connect for a moment before you lean in and kiss him. His lips are softer than you'd expected. His scent permeates your senses, but it's not one of booze or the brand of cigars he smokes. That's there, but your nostrils sense deeper. You could smell his essence. The way his blood runs hot as your tongue swipes into his mouth.
The kiss grows deeper. No words are said. Neither of you need them. Your fingers tighten on the dark locks of brown hair, and you climb into his lap. His hands land on your hips almost instantaneously. The only sounds between the two of you are sharp exhales and shallow inhales.
"What are you doing, bub?" he murmurs against your lips, breaking the silence. Despite his questions, he wasn't stopping you. Not at all. His fingers dig into your flesh and pull you a little closer.
"Wanna make you feel better. And show you that I know."
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You weren't sure what you and Logan were after that night. Boyfriend-girlfriend, friends with benefits, or maybe simple companions. You didn't really care because regardless of the answer, you were happy.
Kissing was the only thing that transpired that night, but that was ok with you. It didn't dampen your outlook on your relationship with him in the slightest. You'd made out for a while, tangling up with each other and the sheets before he pulled back. He didn't want to go further when you both were coming down from all that emotion. And you agreed. You didn't need more. You felt elated from receiving that much affection in the first place. Your tail whacked against the mattress as you curled up to his side and put your head on his sternum to rest.
The next morning though, he had been ready for more. Once he fell back asleep, his dreams had been much more pleasant. He woke up stiff and aching for you, and you were more than happy to provide some relief.
You alleviated that throbbing between his legs multiple times that morning, and you'd been taking care of it at least once a day every day since then.
The team could tell something was going on between the two of you, a deeper bond than your initial affinity for Logan. You walked with a faster wag in your tail, and he seemed less jagged at the edges. Others were less likely to get cut now if they reached for him the wrong way.
Each of your steps also came with a small jingle now since Logan had given you his dog tags. You'd been lying against his side, basking in the afterglow of one of your escapades when he dangled the metal chain between the two of you.
"Want you to have these, pup," he rasped.
You'd looked at him with curiosity swimming in your eyes. Excitement mingled there too though.
He chuckled at the look before boosting your head so he could put them on you. 
"I know my pretty puppy doesn't want to wear a collar for me yet," he teased, getting a pout out of you, "I just want you to have something of mine. You don't even have to wear 'em if you don't want to."
You'd worn them every moment since he gave them to you. Wouldn't take them off for anything. The physical representation of your attachment stayed secured around your neck at all times. The way it made you feel had you thinking a collar would be a pretty nice next step.
It'd been just over a month since you became something more with him. Your tail zips back and forth as you clean up the training room, thinking all of this over. A little smile rests on your features too. Jean helps out nearby, laughing gently at your mood.
"You have it bad," she teases.
Your head turns, and you grin, exposing those elongated canines. Shrugging, you prance over to help her finish the area she was tidying up.
When the two of you get everything back into shape, you head out into the sleek hallway back towards the main part of the mansion. Your shoes squeak against the tile as you bound towards the doors.
Entering the primary floor from the rooms below always brought a bit of adjustment for your eyes. The lights downstairs shone bright, fluorescent white. Coming back to the soft lamps of the common rooms had you blinking while your pupils scanned the room for Logan.
You catch sight of him standing near the two large doors that acted as entrance to the school. Right now, you can only see him from behind, but you spot Charles next to him. It looks like they're talking to someone, though the former's bulky frame prevents you from seeing who.
Your legs carry you over to the pair. You come up on the side of Logan that Charles doesn't occupy. Tucking yourself under his arm, you look up at him first before your eyes land on the other person speaking.
The sight of her makes your head tilt to the side just the slightest. Every feature on her embodies beauty. Her red hair, similar to Jean's in color, sits slicked back on her head. Deep blue coats every inch of her body. Seductive yellow eyes flit between the two men she's conversing with, and now that you had appeared, they cast to you as well.
You'd seen her before around the mansion once or twice, and you didn't really trust her. She didn't seem like a bad person, but she worked opposite the team. Even though Logan had assured you she was just offering some information about a common goal, you didn't feel confident that Mystique's motives were of such pure intent.
Still, you don't interrupt the in-progress discussion. You stay quietly pressed to Logan's side, tail coasting against the back of his leg. He doesn't wrap his arm around you as tight as normal or rub between your ears like he often did, but he gives you a little pat on the shoulder to acknowledge your presence.
Mystique finishes listening to Charles' point before directing her full attention to you.
"I knew you all wore uniforms, but you two didn't tell me your team had a little mascot too."
You bristle at the comment but try to remain composed. You were better than a thoughtless animal that snapped at a little poke. Charles hadn't even noticed your presence. He looks over at you and realizes what Mystique's quip referred to. He introduces you briefly.
"She's new to the team and is still training, but she's not a mascot," he concludes.
"So more like a stray then? Cute. I never would have guessed you wanted a pet," she says to Logan.
Tension creeps up your spine, and you stand up straight, pulling away from Logan's side.
"I'm not his pet," you huff and look at her. Your pouty way of asserting yourself probably didn't do much to project the image of independence you wanted. "I'm-"
You go to continue, but she cuts you off.
"You really should teach your dog not to bark, Logan. It's not polite."
That sparks a small growl in your throat before you can shut it down. Her eyes widen in amusement which only makes it feel worse for you. The most humiliating part is that you know all of this is inauthentic. She's doing it for the purpose of riling you up, getting you upset and making you feel bad. You know this, but your reaction gets the better of you.
Before you can do anything regrettable, Logan's hand curls over your shoulder. He keeps you rooted where you stand, quelling the flames of conflict before they have a chance to spread.
"Back off," he says, quick and curt with Mystique. He turns to Charles next, still keeping his voice firm. "You don't need me to hear the rest of this. I think I'll let you wrap it up."
Charles nods, knowing it would be better for him to focus on removing you from the potentially volatile situation instead of being another observer for some intel.
Logan guides you away from them, hand moving from your shoulder to the back of your neck as he takes you upstairs. The anger inside you melts away with the growing distance between you and Mystique. Only the stain of embarrassment remained.
"I'm sorry," you say. Your words sound compressed, the weight of your shame hanging off them.
"Don't be. You didn't do anything wrong. She wanted you to get upset, so that's what she got."
The pair of you move through the rest of the hall without another word. You go into your room. Once the door is shut and it's just the two of you between the four walls, you stomp over to the bed and flop down onto the mattress.
Darkness clouds your vision while your face rests against the blankets. Your tail rests against your thigh limply. You hear him coming over and then feel his hand rubbing your leg near the lifeless appendage. The mattress dips as he sits next to you.
"C'mon. You're ok."
You shuffle around so your head is resting in his lap. "I looked pathetic."
He sighs. One of his hands rubs your back while the other pets your head. "You did not."
"Yeah I did."
"No. You didn't," he says, "You didn't do anything that bad. No one's gonna think less of you cause you got a little mad about someone talking shit to you."
You know he's right. Everyone here had an experience like that. It's how most of them ended up here, reacting even worse than you had. It still doesn't make you feel any less dumb. A deep exhale seeps from your lungs.
"I just don't understand why everyone looks at me like that. We all get it bad enough from humans, but then some of the others look down on me too. I'm the same as all of you. I don't say Mystique looks like a smurf cause she's blue, so I don't see why I have to get called a pet," you huff.
He smiles a little and scratches your ear, letting you vent.
"Even you guys looked at me different at first. I know you did. I'm not the only mutant with physical stuff. Why does it have to be a whole thing with me?"
"You're just a little different, bub. You confuse people, but it's not your fault. Nothing about you is less than any other mutant. Mystique doesn't even think that. She was trying to get under your skin."
"Yeah..." you say with a little dejection in your tone, "I still just wish people would treat me like normal. Or at least normal for a mutant."
"I know you do, baby," he hums and pats your arm.
By this point, you're far enough away from the harshness of what happened downstairs. You sit up and scoot closer to him crawling into his lap. He wraps his thick arms around you and rubs your back.
"There's my girl," he murmurs and pecks your temple.
You nuzzle him like a puppy seeking more affection from its owner. Your backside rests on his lap, your arms snug around his abdomen.
"I'm just curious though, pup. What's the big thing with being called dog? It's not that different than puppy," he says, a hint of caution in his voice. He figured now was as good a time as any to ask. He knew it was the main part of what Mystique said that set you off.
You don't react with anger or defensiveness which pleases him. Instead, you shrug.
"Cause. Puppy sounds cute. Dog is just so... bleh," you say, "It makes me sound like a gross animal that someone has to wrangle."
His eyebrow rises. You can see the amusement in his eyes, but he successfully kills his laugh before it leaves his throat.
"Mmm. Makes sense. Can't have anyone thinking you're gross."
"Exactly," you say and kiss his cheek, "You get it. I just... I don't wanna be your pet, I wanna be yours."
You breathe out the words and push yourself closer on his lap. He appeases your desire for less space and pulls you to his chest.
"You are mine. You don't have to worry about that," he says.
"And I still wanna be your little puppy."
He chuckles. His head ducks down to your neck to lay a few kisses there. One of his palms drifts down to gently knead the dough of your ass.
"You also are my little puppy. My little puppy that follows me everywhere. Mine to hold and love on. Mine to play with. Mine to deal with when she gets bratty."
The last word comes out teasing and brings a happy sound out of you. "I wasn't being bratty before. She started it," you say, playing along.
"Hmmm, you're right. Maybe fussy's a better word," he mutters and nips at the soft flesh of your neck.
"Nuh uh. I was being totally normal," you say and nudge at his face with your nose, getting a little squirmy on his lap.
He responds by flipping you over onto your back. The mattress creaks with the bout of pressure and a squeal leaves your throat. You can feel his length against your hip, half-hard already from how you had wiggled on his lap.
"Oh please," he says, "Why do you think I brought you up here? I can tell when my pup needs to calm down. And I know just how to do that, don't I?"
You whimper and nod. He grins before returning his lips to your neck. He nips a few love bites onto the delicate area, drawing little whines from you. His hands hold you in place and move with your body's wriggling. He gropes at your hips and waist, paws at your tits, and slides them around to massage your ass.
"Such a good girl. So responsive for me," he coos.
The condescending affection sends a pulse down to your clit, and your hips roll up to meet his. One of your legs hooks around his waist to pull his body closer.
"Logan. Don't tease," you pout.
Your whiny plea doesn't garner any sympathy from him though. He laughs against your neck and pulls back to smirk down at you.
"My little puppy needs to learn some patience. You think if you don't get my dick in seconds that it's teasing," he taunts.
You whine again and press your leg down on him. He doesn't make any move to pull his cock out though. One set of his fingers comes up to your jaw, directing your lips to an angle where his can land on yours. He kisses you nice and deep, swallowing up any bratty urges that were springing around inside your head. His tongue is warm and soft, gentle against yours.
Meanwhile, his freehand does start to slide down below. It travels beneath the waistband of your bottoms. His warm fingers glide over the plush skin of your pelvis and slot between your lower lips to find your swollen nub. He flicks at it, instantly getting a mewl from you.
You can feel his smug smile against your mouth, but you don't have much time to react to it before his middle finger starts swirling around your bud. Your leg releases his body as it squirms with your other on the mattress. You moan into his mouth and boost your hips into his touch, wanting more of that blissful friction.
"Sweet girl," he coos. The words are muffled by your skin, but you could pick those syllables out of any lineup. "That's your favorite spot, isn't it? Always gets you wriggling for me like a little puppy."
"Mhm," you whimper with a faint nod.
Your heels dig into the mattress to give you some leverage to push your hips up so he can tug your pants off. He takes the opportunity and flings them off the bed. With you bare to him like that, he leaves your lips and moves down. He pulls your top off next and smooches between your breasts and over your tummy before landing between your legs.
He kneels on the floor at the edge of the mattress. His hands hook around your thighs and pull you in his direction.
"C'mere, baby. Give me that puppy cunt. Gotta get it all wet, so it can take my cock."
With that, he buries his head between your thighs. You gasp and throw your head back. Your hands fly to his head to grab at the two dark points of hair.
Logan gives his all to the task of pleasuring you. Whether it was his cock or his mouth, you were never getting anything less than his best. That's obvious right now as he eats you out like it's all he has to live for. He laps at your poor little clit before sucking it into his mouth. It gets some good suction from his lips before he pulls away and licks a broad stripe over your cunt.
He prods his tongue at your entrance, pushing the soft appendage against your hole. You whine more, and he feels your heels dig into his back as they had the mattress. Little expletives float from your mouth into the air as you experience such a rush of euphoria.
"Taste so good, pup. So fuckin' sweet," he mumbles. His lips open and close over your pussy, making out with it.
You rock your hips back and forth, essentially humping his face. He groans and only works harder. Your cute reactions only spurred him on. He twists his tongue just how he'd learned you liked and uses the perfect amount of pressure to get you gushing for him. Your arousal begins to coat his chin, his dark facial hair glistening with your wetness.
"Nice and wet. I'm just gonna slide right in, huh baby?"
"Yeah," you pant. Your hips buck when his nose bumps your clit, but he keeps you held in place.
He kisses your clit before dragging his tongue over you anymore. The soft touch pulls a whimper from you. Your brain starts to get all muddled and hazy. The dreamy feeling always took over when he had you like this. He knows it's coming on too. He can tell by the sudden softening of your movements. You're less jerky and more fluid in how you fidget.
"Oh, that's it. I think my pretty puppy's ready for me," he says, voice smooth on your ears.
He wags his tongue over your little bundle of nerves a few more times before standing to undress himself. His shirt comes off first, dropped to the floor with your garments. His pants are next to go, crumpled on the ground and kicked off his ankles.
Crawling back on top of you, his larger figure boxes you in on the soft surface. His cock is fully hard by now, red and angry, leaking desire from the tip. He guides it to your center and rubs it through your soaked folds.
A soft grunt leaves him as your nectar coats his shaft and drips onto his balls a little too. He only slides it against you a couple times, not wanting to waste the stimulation humping when he could be nestled deep inside.
He brings his tip down to your hold and pushes it in. Your walls accept the familiar intrusion and he groans at the comfort of your velvet walls contracting around him. He pushes his length in all the way until he bottoms out.
Then, adjusting himself and gripping at your hips, he starts to thrust. The motions start as gentle rocks. Taps of his pelvis against your ass. You flutter around him. Moans leak from you, and he smiles at the obvious pleasure coursing through your body.
He fucks you deep, just how you always asked for it. You weren't concerned with whining for harder and deeper right now. This was enough. The feeling of his cock buried in you soothed you like nothing else. Your eyes roll back and puffs of air come from your nostrils.
"Fuck, honey. Feels like I can barely last with you," he grumbles.
"Can't even think when I'm with you," you babble.
Your arms come up to pull him closer, and he lets you. He presses his body into yours, in-turn, shoving his cock as far into you as physically possible. You cry out with the pressure. It was the best kind. Deep and satisfying. To the point that you can feel it in your tummy every time his belly pushes on yours.
"You may not be my dog, baby, but one day you're gonna be my perfect breeding bitch," he grunts.
Your jaw goes slack, eyes drooping with lust. Your head tilts back and he leans into yours more.
"Gonna have you full of me forever. Always gonna be mine."
You can't even respond. Your mind isn't coming up with any coherent response. All you can do is whimper and whine like the needy pup that you are.
"This is what you need sometimes, puppy. Need me to stretch you out on my cock. Get all those thoughts out of your head. Cause puppies don't have to think. Not when you have someone like me taking care of you."
Your thighs start quivering, a sign you were reaching your peak. He knows this and drills into you harder. His balls slap against you every time he pistons his hips. His heated skin rubs against yours. He occupies all your senses, overloading you with him.
"Logan... gotta... gonna cum," you whine.
"Then cum for me," he mumbles simply, "Cum all over my cock, and I'll be right behind you."
You nod. Your back arches up. It takes you a little more, but when you get there, you crash into the throes of release. A sharp yelp bursts from you. Your feet kick a little and your legs press against his sides in an attempt to shut him out.
You get so fucking tight when you cum. Your hole clenches around him, calling out to him to spill every drop of his seed inside your wanting orifice. He growls and drops his head in your neck. He feels it building between his hips. The pressure grows until he can't take it anymore. It snaps and the flood gates open.
He bites at your neck, not hard enough to break the skin but with enough need to leave a little mark. Hot, sticky cum shoots out of him in thick ropes. Warmth fills your insides and you feel like you're sinking into the mattress below you. Both of you are panting with the intensity of the high.
You've already come down by the time he's starting to. After he nuts, Logan tends to get a little sappy. His arms pull you in tighter and he pecks at your neck a few times more muttering something unintelligible about his baby puppy.
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"So what do you think?" you ask and twirl into the room, showing off your new outfit.
It matched his. Black leather snug on your body, lined with the same gold on the seams of Logan's. The bold X that shown on his belt could be found on the zipper of your top, dangling against your chest.
He smiles at you, standing from the bed to walk over and get a better view.
"Looks pretty good," he says upon approaching, "Seems a little tight though. You got room for your tail in that thing?"
You laugh at his joke and spin around again, showing the back where the suit had accommodated for your tail to poke through. It whips back and forth before you turn to him again.
"Just perfect for you then," he says and pulls you close, patting your ass and kissing your forehead, "Look at you. An official member of the team."
You nod and struggle not to bounce all around the room with the excitement vibrating through your cells.
"We're gonna be like so totally cool together," you say.
"Yeah. Totally," he imitates affectionately. He cups your jaw, watching your cheeks squish in and your lips puff out. Leaning down, he puts his mouth on yours in a soft kiss. "You're gonna do great."
The words come out as a whisper against your lips. One of your canines slips over your bottom lip as you take it between your teeth. But the display of timidity only lasts a second.
"I know," you beam.
Locking your fingers around his palm, you drag him to the door and out into the hall. Your arm makes his swing as he walks along behind you. He rolls his eyes lovingly at your confident display, but he can't keep his gaze off your happy self. He lets you pull him without resistance.
Now it would be his turn to follow you.
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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 3 months ago
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imagine logan seeing you again
logan x reader
warning: some deadpool x wolverine spoilers. this takes place after the movie. under 1k words.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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The apartment was packed jammed with friends and some foes of Wade Wilson. There might have been music playing in the background, but Logan couldn’t tell when his eyes locked with the figure walking through the front door. His heart dropped, he felt sick to his stomach as his eyes fluttered. It had to be a dream but then he quickly came to his senses.
This wasn’t his universe, his world. He was somewhere entirely new. He caught his breath as Wade shouted out an exclamation of joy. Logan watched as he drew up from his seat to greet you with an overzealous hug, pulling you toward the group at the table.  Wade held you rough by the shoulders and grinned. “Look who decided to come out of retirement, conveniently after we,” he pointed to Logan then himself. “Saved the fucking world. Avengers, who? Bunch of assholes, if you ask me.”
“You sound like a man scorn, Wade,” you teased, offering a wave of a hand to your friends. The idiot next to you was right, the whole superhero thing had been a thing of the past. You have been a regular civilian for a few years now and have been loving a more relaxed existence – not being threatened daily was like, nice. “Don’t worry, you’ll see all the details in the movie. Have you meant my little angry beaver, the Wolverine?”
Your head jerked to where the older gentlemen was sitting, and you grinned. “I haven’t had the pleasure. I never met this world’s Logan – we ran in different circles. It’s nice to meet you.”
His heart relaxed and he confidently held out a hand, ignoring the interested glance from Laura. “Nice to meet you.”
“Take a seat next to Logan,” Wade urged, winking over to his new hesitant partner. “I’m sure he can fill you in on all the fun we’ve had together. Tell her about the sex ramp we had in the car that one time.”
“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Logan cursed, telling you to ignore him.
“I usually do,” you laughed, thanking Vanessa for the beer she slid over from her side of the table. Popping it open, you relaxed and asked Logan how this place was treating him. “Must be weird, coming here. It’s like your world, right? Just slightly different?”
“Something like that.”
“Did we know each other back there?”
Your question seemed so invasive and frank – it almost made Logan smile because some people never changed, no matter what universe. Back where he came from, you were such a firecracker little shit. He had his hands full dealing with your bullshit. You were always running towards danger with little regard for your own safety because you had him. He had always been at your side, or at least, trying to catch up but he had always been there for you.
Logan had loved you and you had loved him.
Two reckless mutants.
Then you died and that sent him straight down a barrel of alcohol and indifference, to everyone and everything in his world. Which led to his greatest shame of all, allowing his family to be murdered because he was too busy drinking his sorrows away. He had long forgotten what it felt like to see you smile or hear you laugh, to feel your fingertips on his skin. The weight of your head on his chest as you slept, he never could replicate that feeling and yet, here you were.
A different version of you but God, the same.
“We were friends, really good friends.”
The hint of sadness in his voice was enough for you to understand and maybe not truly, but something had happened. That much was evident and while it might have been silly, you wanted nothing more than to comfort this man next to you. The room seemed to fall quiet, but no one was paying attention, except the girl next to Logan. Your eyes met hers, but she just smiled and looked away. Logan’s eyes were focused on the beer in his hands, but his eyes jerked up when a gentle hand touched the top of his. Your skin ablaze his and it felt wrong to feel like he had once when he didn’t even know you. Not this version of you, a woman he knew nothing about. It didn’t feel right but he wanted nothing more to allow this to go on. To see who you were in this world.
Did he deserve that? After everything that happened.
“Were? I won’t pry but it seems like life has given you a second chance, Logan.” You smiled softly and removed your hand from his, lifting your beer can to him. “You guys saved this world; a second chance is the least the universe can give you. Why not take it?”
Logan chuckled lowly. “The version of you I knew also had a deficiency in reasoning.”
A hard smack landed on his chest, and he laughed, which made you laugh. “Yeah, well, at least I don’t look like that idiot.”
Looking over to where you pointed to Wade, who had decided to show off his hair piece, Logan smirked. “Yeah, that’s fucking terrible.”
The two of you smiled at each other and something clicked in that moment, leaving the both of you quiet until you broke the tension. “To not looking like Wade Wilson.”
Logan clicked his beer against yours and felt a settling in his heart. Maybe he did deserve a second chance, at least, he could start toward earning that second chance. “Amen to that.”
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lovelyghst · 9 months ago
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soft-tummy simon riley save me… cause you cannot look at that man and tell me he doesn’t love to eat!! like, a constant snacker. and his heart absolutely swells when you indulge so heavily in his needs.
it’s practically his love language, to scarf down anything you put on the table in front of him, and you can certainly tell since now he’s not nearly in the same shape as he was when you found him.
he likes to think you’ve fixed him in a way; spending his evenings cuddling in bed for hours on end with you, rather than heading to the gym for the second time that day to burn off dinner. thanking you for the savory meal with kisses all over instead of fighting off the impulse to purge his usual bland chicken breast and vegetables every night.
and it all hits him far, far deeper than just his gut; feeling it in his heart more than the soft layer of fat blanketing his tummy he has to see in the mirror every morning. just the fact that a sweet thing like you wants to take care of him, ensure he eats plentiful yet still healthy for his work, has him whipped. showering him with endless i love you’s and praising him all up and down until his cheeks tint a light, flustered pink and his dick gets achingly hard in his pants.
he won’t pretend the change was easy on him, seeing the clean-cut abs and fit appearance that made him feel young fade away the further you got into your relationship, but he’d also be a filthy liar if he said he didn’t prefer the pros to his current build way more.
simon begins wearing shirts less around the house on his lazy days, at your lovely request of course, and it does feel quite freeing. especially when he’s able to come up behind you in the kitchen, cage you in with his burly arms, bend you over the counter and fuck you senseless because part of the deal was that his shirts would go to you, and with nothing but your lace panties on underneath.
he can’t help but get riled up seeing you walk around like that, and you’re no saint either when you catch a glimpse of his broad chest and relaxed, pillowy belly as he reads the morning newspaper. you tend to drop to your knees and tug at his boxers faster than he can even greet you properly, showing him just how much you love him.
he loves eating you out more than anything, especially with a full tummy after a late meal. you’ll take his and your empty plates to the kitchen to clean up, but you’re being bent over the counter before you can even wipe it down!! and squealing his name in surprise won’t stop him, nor will your giggles as he’s lifting the skirt of your dress to reveal your pretty ass, getting down on his knees and delving right in.
dragging his tongue through your drenched seam, grinning softly against your skin when you jolt and whine out of sensitivity. tongue-fucking your pretty, tight hole only for a moment before he’s returning to messily play with your swollen clit.
and you just know it’s entirely selfish, simon not even paying mind to the way your legs shake and relentlessly convulse and you can barely stay still because his stubble is unceasingly tickling your inner thighs. making you cum until you can’t anymore, and he’s happily forced to carry your numbed, twitchy body to bed so you can catch your breath and rest while he finishes up the chores.
would probably send you off by say something cliché about you being his favorite dessert. he’s so stupid when he’s horny.
simon is weak for when you ride his stomach, with both his hands planted firmly on your hips as you rub your bare pussy back and forth on his hard abdomen. his hidden muscles become more apparent the longer you go at it and the harder he holds you down, little whimpers spilling from your puffy lips as the light hairs coating his tummy create just the perfect amount of friction to your poor, little clit for that hot, familiar sensation in your lower belly to bubble up.
your hands clawing at his chest and shoulders, leaving lines and crescent indents in his skin that soon turn red in their wake, and the pain only turns him on more, his cock excruciatingly hard, long hums of pleasure omitting straight from his throat as he grits his teeth.
“yeah, that’s it, sweetheart—there’s my dirty girl. jus’ keep goin’ for me now, don’t stop… make yourself cum without me touchin’ you down there, ‘nd then i’ll fuck you real nicely after. alright, princess?”
and you soon follow through with just that, nodding decorously with tears welling at your eyes’ waterlines before you’re lurching forward, crying out his name. thighs giving out and fighting to ride out your orgasm, where simon then saves you with his attentive grip on your hips, finishing the job for you rather recklessly.
“good fuckin’ girl… y’did so well for me, love,” and every other gruff, dragged word of praise in his vocabulary echos in your fuzzy mind as you come down from your high.
you’re still catching your breath, fulling laying on his chest by the time he’s inching you backwards whilst taking his hard dick out from his boxers. lifting your weak hips for you as he whispers small, reassuring hushes right by your ear, soothing your winces as he fully sheathes you on his thick cock, inch by fucking inch.
he fucks himself up into you, not daring to make you overwork your body anymore, and he handles you so delicately you could almost fall asleep on his mattress of a body. you crumble to pieces with the vibrations of his chest from his unending groaning, the feeling of his veiny and rough cock stretching and filling you to the brim almost becoming minute compared to the sleepiness washing over you.
“there ya go, pretty… don’t have’ta do any work now, jus’ like i promised, eh?” he coos, and he could feel you smiling against his collarbone. one of his large hands cradles the back of your head while the other gropes at your ass lovingly. “takin’ me just fine, sweet girl.”
you bury your heated face into his squishy pectoral, whining at the overstimulation to your clit at the particular angle, left so utterly sensitive from your prior orgasm. you’re limp in his strong hold, securer than ever as he lifts your hips up and down his thick cock.
he uses your tender cunt ‘til he’s satisfied, groaning right up against your ticklish ear when he empties his hot cum in your throbbing pussy, the perfect thing milking him dry and turning you exhausted.
he actually sits in the moment for a peaceful while, coddling you against his rising and falling chest and murmuring sweet praises, until eventually his disciplined brain kicks in despite your protests.
“don’t go passin’ out on me yet, sweetheart.” you grumble out a refusing noise which makes him laugh softly, but apparently it’s not enough to win him over. “let’s go get you cleaned up, yeah?”
(simon and his size difference & free use kinks go CRAZY in this one. also this instagram reel is so him coded ok bye bye <3 cont.)
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gallavichsreddie1128 · 4 months ago
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FWB to Lovers w/ Logan
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Description: How Y/N and Logan went from Fuck buddies to Lovers
Warning: Dirty talk
Ever since Y/N, Wade and Logan saved the timeline it has been a known thing that Logan and Y/N had tension and Wade always made it known: “UGH just fuck already Disney can just cut it out of the film.” “What?” 
Y/N tried to hide her feelings at first knowing that Logan probably wanted someone his age and not a younger woman with little to no experience. Boy was she wrong: “Wade’s right. We should fuck.” 
Though he said that drunk, Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about it. She was sure he wouldn’t remember saying that but the never next day when she just stared at him a little too long she was up against the wall in a second: “We need to hurry before Wade gets back.” 
He was huge compared to her and the size kink was real. For his age he had a nice body and a dick that hit all her special spots: “Fuck. I didn’t even know that spot could be reached.”
He took her on everything in that house. The couch, the wall, the beds (even Wade’s), shower, counter and even on a chair. Wade found out and his reaction wasn’t even surprising: “You guys can’t just fuck on my bed and not let me watch.” 
Y/N was falling hard for the man and Wade could tell. Her stares were no longer just filled with lust but love. She looked at him like he was the whole world and more: “OMG is the Y/N falling in love?” “Shut up!”
Logan was too and that showed when he found out that Y/N and Wade had slept together before. Though Y/N and Logan weren’t together and only supposed to be FWB, He got extremely jealous: “YOU GUYS HAVE SLEPT TOGETHER?” “Duh. Have you seen us? Two hot people fucking is the norm.” 
Y/N and Wade both found it odd that he got mad about that given it was 2 years ago and before any of this. Logan stormed off to his room ignoring them calling his name. Wade looked at Y/N with a knowing look: “Seems like your pussy is a love potion and he had too much of it.” 
Though it wasn’t the best idea, Wade went to talk to him about it. Y/N almost wanted to do it herself but Wade offered and said that he wouldn’t crack jokes about the situation: “Listen peanut, I understand that you have a bad boy reputation to stick too but that hard on you’re showing says you enjoyed the thought of it.” “WADE GET OUT!” 
Y/N couldn’t sleep that night. Her mind was on Logan and how he just stormed out of the room after hearing that they fucked. Did he love her back? She needed to know. She walked to his door and knocked, not caring if he was asleep or not: “Do you love me?” “Y/N, It’s 3 am.” 
He did in fact love her and he should’ve shown it better. Wade always wanted to get under his skin and that’s probably why he mentioned that: “I said that to get you two together. It’s annoying to see you guys act like Blind AL trying to find something.” 
Ok Wade maybe a little too far?
Both of them were idiots for not just admitting how they felt but now it was worth it in the end and Wade was to thank: “I’m not thanking you with Tacos!” “Well aren’t you just ungrateful?”
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