#this instinctive way of being around each other???

[ohtobeleah]

If Logan is one thing, it's protective. and not in a "You're mine and can't do anything for yourself" Toxic way. He's protective in an "I'll literally do anything and everything for you, come hell or high water, I'd throw my over-extended life on the line to keep you safe."

I could see the two of you getting in some sort of car accident. He was the one driving. Something he always insists on doing. You don't often fight him on matters like who does what and when. You enjoy the journey just as much as getting to the destination with Logan in all aspects of life. Just being in each other's presence is enough for you most of the time.

"Y/n?" Logan growls as he comes to. Hell if the impact was enough to rattle him, it had to be enough to be a cause for concern for you. "Honey?" He looks over to where you're slumped in the passenger seat. Not only had you been wearing your seatbelt, but with an instinct to keep you safe, keep you protected from harm's way, Logan had flung his arm across your chest to keep you back against the seat.

"Fuck, Honey, hey--?" Logans reaches over, groaning as he moves. there's shattered glass fragments and twisted aluminium all around you. "I've got you," He taps your cheek softly, trying his best to coax you out of your unconscious state. "I'm here, wake up for me?" Logan seems to be asking questions when in reality it's more of a statement. he needs you to wake up, he needs you to be alright. without you? Logan isn't sure if he could keep living.

"Don't do this to me, please?" He nearly cries as your head lulls to the side, blood dripping from your nose, and your mouth. "I love you," He admits softly while trying to assess the damage done from the impact. You're his girl, why would someone try and take you away from him like this? Had he not been through enough loss? enough hurt?

"Did you just say you love me, Lo?" You mumble as your eyelids flicker. Logan lets out a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding in. "That's kinda sweet, I'm telling your boyfriend." Logan knew you were referring to Wade, but he didn't care. All he cared about was that you were still here with him.

"You're hearing things," Logan replied as a smile crept across his aging face. The salt and pepper beard prevalent on his cheeks is speckled blood. "Don't scare me like that ever again, you hear me?"

"You're the one who's driving," You look across to where Logan is sitting, the pair of you still trapped in a twisted mess. "And I think it's time for you to wake up now." You stare at him a little more seriously than what you'd just been. Logan feels himself slipping back to reality...only to wake up on your lounge, alone.

"Ahhh!" Logan wakes with an audible gasp as his claws eject from between his knuckles. It's something he's become accustomed to. Waking in the middle of the night from nightmares that haunt him from his past. But these ones were new to him. The fear of losing you had begun to creep into his subconscious.

He's sweating, shaking from a heightened level of adrenaline and fear. But your voice cuts through it all.

"You were dreaming again," You speak up from where you're perched on the kitchen bench. Just sitting, drinking a cup of tea. Watching the man who'd stayed the night sleep on your couch because he refused to stay in your bed. "Kept calling my name out, I saw your uh--claws and thought perhaps keeping a safe distance would be practical."

"Come here," Logan sighs in frustration on two fronts. One, from his utterly confronting nightmare. Two, you somehow manage to sneak up on him like no one else can. "Please?" So that's what you do. You pad over in your underwear and perch yourself on Logan's lap. "What happened Lo?" You coo as your fingers card through his locks.

"I don't know what I'd ever do if I lost you, Honey." He replies sincerely, softly. It's a nice juxtaposition to his normal brooding self.

"Good thing I don't have any plans on going anywhere anytime soon, huh?" You whisper through a smile as you gently press your lips against Logans. He accepts the gesture and goes with the flow. Leaning back against the couch as you deepen the kiss. "Come to bed with me?"

"You know I can't--" Logan whispers into your mouth. "But can you stay here for a few minutes?" He counters your offer with his own. "Please?"

"I'm not going anywhere, Lo." You remind him, kissing him gently and ever so slow as Logan melts against you. And for as protective as Logan is, for the first time, someone was just as willing to be his safeguard in return. "You're safe with me."

You keep him safe from himself.

Ilya

[imnotyetfound]

My take on Five/Lila - and why they were endgame

I’ve seen so many people say that Five and Lila didn’t make any sense, and I just disagree. I've tried to really motivate why, and also why I see them as endgame. Feel free to agree or disagree.

First of all, Five and Lila share a common background of being raised plus trained as survivors and weapons. Five was molded by his time in the apocalypse, the Commission and his ruthless upbringing within the Hargreeves family, while Lila was similarly trained and manipulated by the Handler. Both of them were forced into brutal, high-stakes environments from a young age, developing a sense of independence, ruthlessness, and survival instincts that the rest of the family can’t fully relate to. We see this especially in Five and Lila’s difficulties in showing emotional vulnerability and trusting others. This shared experience means they both understand the cost of their traumatic upbringings and can relate to each other’s emotional scars in ways others just won’t be able to. So already by this, they’re somewhat bonded from the start.

In other similarities both Five and Lila possess extraordinary intelligence and tactical thinking. They challenge each other in a way no one else does. This has been an ongoing thing between them, bouncing off each other and sometimes teaming up. It’s also what drew them to work on another mission together in S4, there has always been some kind of pull/push there. Personality-wise both Five and Lila have a dark sense of humor and a cynical outlook on the world. But despite the cynicism, they still manage to eventually relax and find humor in each other’s company. The lighter moments we’ve seen between them at times have been an interesting contrast to their otherwise serious and violent lifestyles. 

I do believe their shared backgrounds and personalities created a bond that was then further strengthened during the years they spent lost in the subway together. Isolated from the rest of the world, they literally only had each other for company. The intimacy and trust that grew between them was inevitable. When you have no one else to rely on, you’re going to develop a relationship stronger than under normal circumstances. So over those years, they must have grown close in ways that no one else could fully understand. Even though we didn't get to see every detail of how it unfolded (because the season was way too short), it’s not difficult to imagine.

I’d also say they naturally grew a bond stronger than with any other character at that time, except for the one between mother and child which is why Lila’s need to be with her children would always make her go home if given the chance. Five knew this and it’s the reason he kept the solution from her for months. 

Now, to my thoughts about their actions in regards to Diego as this is often brought up. The argument that Lila cheated on her husband with Five is understandable from a moral perspective, if we see it as just that without any context. But when you consider the circumstances it is way more nuanced. You have to look at not only the environment they found themselves in, but also the emotional and psychological journey they went through together. Their relationship was ultimately forged over a shared background and then several years of isolation. Then you add to the fact that Diego seems to have treated Lila like crap in the years leading up to the isolation, she said it herself he was always moping around and complaining while she sacrificed her life to stay at home and take care of the kids. She even told him she needed a break to reassess their relationship. I do believe her and Five had somewhat already begun an emotional affair before the isolation, the way they were sneaking off together and clearly wanted to keep their thing separate from Diego and the others. Yet they still didn’t get physical until they settled down, believing they weren’t gonna find a way back.

Also, it’s important to here consider the strength of the bond, as I mentioned earlier, that Five and Lila must have developed over those years. They knew each other better than anyone else by the end. Spending every day together in a survival situation with nothing else around would likely create an unparalleled level of intimacy and emotional closeness. This bond would probably transcend Lila’s previous relationship with Diego, and maybe even Five’s bond with his siblings. It’s been years since he returned to them and they had all grown in separate directions. Lila and Five however had recently experienced something life-changing together, and it is unfair to dismiss the strength of their connection as something unethical or out of character when their reality had shifted so drastically from when the show started.

Another important point here is how the relationship with Lila allowed Five to finally be "human" and emotionally open in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to be before. Five was obviously emotionally detached as a result of both his past trauma and the burden of being a hyper-intelligent man in the body of a boy. With Lila, he had the chance to just feel love and trust without worrying about anything else. So I do think this outweighs his “betrayal” against his brother as people claim.

Now on to how and why Five and Lila were endgame. I’m convinced that Lila did love Five despite her choice to leave their isolation. To me this was cemented as she didn’t deny her feelings when Diego asked her straight out. If she wanted to make Diego feel better she could have easily denied her feelings for Five to reassure him. Yet even when asked twice she couldn’t do it. There was also Lila’s look of relief when Five returned to them at the end. It was Five who Lila allowed to comfort her after she said goodbye to her family, trusting him in her most vulnerable moment instead of blipping back to Diego and the others. These events showed the deep trust and emotional intimacy that still existed between them after returning to “the real world”. Despite her saying it was over. I also want to add here that Lila took Five’s hand as they were dying, the look between them was for me at least silently saying they loved each other. 

So all in all I do believe that the connection and love between Five and Lila was authentic. It also made sense. They’re able to understand each other’s emotional complexities, including their darker tendencies, without needing to change who they are. Still their time together seemed to actually have softened them both when they finally had the chance to settle down, almost as if they were healing from past trauma together. This would forge a relationship that no one else could replicate without going through the same experience. Making Five and Lila a reasonable endgame, which they also were in my eyes considering they died holding hands.

----------------------

Summary:  Five and Lila's shared background of trauma, matched intelligence, and similar personalities means they make sense. They shared a bond that was only further strengthened during their years of isolation. For 7 years they only had each other to rely on. This inevitably created an intimacy and relationship that couldn’t be compared to what they had had with anyone else. Outweighing what they did to Diego when you consider all context. Lila and Five ended up being human and vulnerable with each other on a level they hadn’t been with anyone else. Ultimately Lila’s refusal to deny her feelings for Five, her relief when he returned, him comforting her as she sent her family away and then finally them dying hand-in-hand, showed that they were endgame.

[anniebeemine]

satisfied- s.r. x fem!reader

warnings: cheating, minor/short descriptions of sex

Spencer awoke to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, casting gentle patterns on the walls of his bedroom. His gaze immediately settled on you, curled up next to him, peaceful and serene in the stillness of the early hour. The sight brought a warmth to his chest that he had never quite experienced before. You looked like you belonged there, wrapped in the comforter, your hair fanned out across the pillow, a soft smile playing on your lips even in sleep.

He couldn’t help but admire you, marveling at how you made his usually chaotic life feel somehow balanced and tranquil. With a tender instinct, he reached over and pulled the comforter higher over your shoulder, wanting to keep you warm and cozy. You instinctively nestled deeper into the mattress, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

It had been weeks since you had started seeing each other, and every moment together felt like a precious secret. You had slipped into his life so easily, and his bed had become your sanctuary, a haven where the outside world faded away. Every night spent in each other’s arms felt like a dream he never wanted to end.

But this morning, as the warmth of the sun began to invade the sanctity of your peaceful sleep, he felt a familiar tug of regret. He hated when you woke up, when the reality of your lives seeped in, breaking the facade that the early morning hours created. He often pretended to be asleep, hoping to steal a few extra moments with you, to savor the way you looked so content and safe next to him.

The irony wasn't lost on him. He never expected this—you—to happen. It all started that night at the bar, the same one he never wanted to go to, the one his coworkers had dragged him to after an early return from a case. Spencer wasn’t the type to seek solace in the crowded atmosphere of loud music and clinking glasses. He had sat at the far end of the bar, quietly nursing his drink and avoiding the banter of his colleagues.

Then there was you. He wasn’t sure how he had gained the courage to speak to you. You’d caught his eye the moment you walked in—confident, graceful, and absolutely out of place in that bar. It had been one of those rare moments where something pulled him in, and before he could talk himself out of it, he was standing next to you, awkwardly stumbling over his introduction.

He remembered the curve of your lips when you smiled at him, the way your eyes crinkled slightly at the corners. You’d teased him gently about looking like he didn’t belong there, and somehow, you had struck up a conversation. The details of what you talked about were a blur now, but what stuck with him was the overwhelming sense of connection. It was easy with you—something he rarely felt with anyone.

Even now, he wasn’t entirely sure how he ended up in a cab with you that night. One moment, you were at the bar, laughing at something he’d said, and the next, you were tugging him into the backseat of a taxi, your hands roaming over his chest as you kissed him with an intensity that left him breathless.

But what he remembered most vividly, the moment that changed everything for him, was the first time he had you in his bed. Your hair had been splayed out on his pillow, framing your face, which was contorted in pleasure as your back arched beneath him. One hand gripped the sheets, the other had wrapped around his bicep, holding onto him as though he were the only thing keeping you tethered to the earth. The sound of your moans, the way your body responded to him, had branded itself into his memory. He had been hooked from that day forward, utterly consumed by you.

Since then, he had all but begged to see you.

He kept his eyes mostly closed, listening intently as you shifted beside him. He could hear the soft rustle of fabric as you quietly got out of bed, the gentle creaking of the floorboards as you moved about the room. The sound of your purse being rifled through broke the quiet, and his heart sank slightly, knowing that your time together was coming to an end.

With a small crack of his eyes, he watched you as you slipped on your clothes, the way you moved with a graceful ease, almost like a dancer in a quiet ballet. His heart ached at the sight of you pulling out the delicate gold ring and sliding it onto your finger. It was a reminder of your life outside of this stolen time, a tether back to your reality. He sighed quietly, the sound lost in the stillness of the room as you gathered your things.

As you stood there, preparing to leave, he felt a mix of emotions swelling inside him. There was joy in having you close, but the looming reality of your situation tightened around his chest. You picked up your purse and paused for a moment, casting one last glance back at him, his heart racing as he held his breath, hoping you might linger just a bit longer.

But you didn’t. With a gentle sigh, you turned and made your way to the door, and he couldn’t help but let out a soft, frustrated breath, wishing things were different. As you quietly opened the door, a part of him felt like it was leaving with you, the warmth of the morning fading as the door clicked shut behind you.

He lay back against the pillow, feeling the empty space beside him, his heart heavy with the knowledge that you would be returning home to your husband. The soft morning light felt colder now, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of longing that settled deep within him. As he closed his eyes again, he tried to hold onto the memory of the peaceful moments you shared, clinging to the hope that there would be more mornings like this, even if they were fleeting.

[alixmarauders]

Why Try | poly! marauders x fem! reader

tag list: @staarflowerr @lonely-nerd-sodaholic @hcqwxrtss123 @call-me-mishi @sxmnc

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

You were late, as always. This time, though, the reason behind it made you smile like a fool: last night you stayed up late with the guys, laughing and cuddling each other.

So, now you were rushing through the halls, barely making it in time for your Transfiguration class. You rushed to the door, which was already close, and opened it abruptly

“Mrs. L/N, you’re late.” McGonagall stared you down. “And I won’t comment on that strange looking mark on your neck. Take a seat”

Everybody looked at you, snickering, while Sirius blowed you a kiss, indicating the vacant seat next to you.

“Why is everybody laughing? And what strange mark was she referring to?”

“Love, didn’t you look in the mirror this morning?” You shook your head. “Let’s say that now everybody knows you’re ours”

You widened your eyes, pulling out of your bag a little mirror: the three hickeys adorned your neck.

“This is a mess, you know that? What would everybody think? And-“ He put a finger in your lips.

You played with the hem of the Gryffindor jersey, a little smile playing on your cheeks. James and Sirius had a quidditch match against Ravenclaw in about forty minutes, you were waiting for Remus to pick you up to go watch it together.

Hearing three knocks on your dorm room, you ran to open: there stood Remus, a bouquet of tulips in one hand.

“Love, you look amazing in our colours” You smiled up at him. “May I have a kiss?”

Your heart fluttered, somehow him asking for consent made you even more hot and bothered. Not giving him a verbal response, you just got on your tippy toes and kissed him softly, while his free arm wrapped around your waist.

“You don’t even know how happy it makes me that I can just kiss you whenever I want” He showered you in sweet kisses all over your face, making you giggle. “My sweet, sweet girl”

At this point, your ears were burning and you were pretty sure that if he kept kissing you, you would have miss the match. “Okay loverboy, we should really get going”

He laughed, patting your bum, heading with you to the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw game. Technically you should have cheered for your house, but you didn’t have that many friends on the Ravenclaw team, and you just wanted to make your boyfriends feel appreciated.

Once on the Quidditch pitch, Remus brought you to the Gryffindor’s lockers.

“James! Sirius! Look I have a surprise!”

You heard what sounded like someone being slammed on the lockers, then they came into view.

Sirius stared at you, a grin slowly making his way on his face. “Look what we have here, wearing our colours”

You nodded. “This is technically James’ jersey, but I wrote your name under his name, so I’m technically cheering for the both of you”

James picked you up, spinning you around, while you giggled furiously. “Our girl, always so considerate. We love you, you know that, right?”

Sirius picked you from James’ arms, kissing you softly on your lips, making you melt, while Remus was watching the scene unfold from behind you, a grin plastered on his face.

“We have to go now” Sirius pecked your lips. “After the game we’ll shower and then we’ll go on a date together”

“And if I don’t want to?”

James smirked. “You’ll still be there, either if you want to or not. You’re stuck with us love, that’s a shame isn’t it?”

“Not really” You mumbled, suppressing a smile, and they cooed at you. Once the players kissed you, they took off for the pitch, while you went back to your seats with Remus.

Gryffindor won, and you couldn’t have been more happy. As you rushed down the bleachers, your excitement died down, seeing Aurora dangerously close to James, her hand on his pec.

“… We could share a drink, you know? We’d have such a great time together” Your first instinct was to run, but you refrained: you had learned your lesson, plus now you were in officially dating, everyone knew about this, you had every right to lash out.

Swallowing down your nervousness, you came behind up behind her, tapping her shoulder, James smirked at you. “Excuse me, are you asking out my boyfriend?” They both widened your eyes, Remus smiling proudly at you and fist bumping James.

“What… He’s not-“

James hugged you from behind, his head nestling in your shoulder juncture. “I am, thank you very much. Claimed and everything, so I’d take a step back if I were you. Plus, I wanted to tell you that I actually don’t give a shit about her brother being a shit to her, I pity him, not understanding how lucky he is to have such an incredible sister. Now, I would really like for you to go away, so I can spend time with my girlfriend, thank you very much”. He turned you around, ignoring your protests, making out with you right in front of her.

You tried to keep up with him, but you couldn’t help but feel guilty about the white lie you told them. Once you stopped kissing, Remus and Sirius were by your side, too. You were about to start talking, but they preceded you. “Love, she talked a lot of shit about you, but if you didn’t want to tell us about your brother we understand. The only thing is, why did you want to keep our relationship a secret, then?” Sirius was looking kind of hurt, and your heart wept.

“It’s not you I’m ashamed of, I can assure you. I was ashamed of myself, as I told you I didn’t understand how could you choose me, of all the pretty girls there are here at Hogwarts, I didn’t want to be made fun of, you know?”

Remus hugged you tighly as you were about to start crying. “Sht, love, we understand, don’t go wasting your tears on this, please. Everything’s alright, we’re not mad, we’re glad you talked to us about it.”

As you allowed them to cuddle you, you smiled: being honest wasn’t that bad, after all.

this is rushed and not proofread, but I had to finish this serie and so that's it <3 hope you enjoyed it, sending you lots of kisses

[rogueshadow1124]

CHASING THE QUIET MOMENTS

[Jason Todd x reader]

Summary: where Y/N and Jason stay content with the moment of peace they have. Reference to the song 'chasing cars' by snow patrol.

Word count: 1740

Warnimg: none.

The night was still, the kind of stillness that wrapped the Gotham skyline in a shroud of peace rarely afforded to the restless city. Moonlight filtered through the tall windows of an old apartment building, casting silver shadows that danced across the floor of a dimly lit room. In this serene atmosphere sat Y/N Y/L/N, her legs curled up beneath her on the couch, bathed in the glow of her laptop screen. The gentle hum of the city outside was a far cry from the chaos it so often descended into. Here, in this moment, it felt like time had slowed down, as though she had found a sliver of tranquility in a place that hardly ever knew it.

Yet the silence felt incomplete.

Her eyes drifted toward the balcony door, slightly ajar to allow the cool night air to sweep in. It brought with it a familiar smell, the scent of rain threatening in the distance, a reminder of just how fleeting peace could be in Gotham. But tonight wasn’t about the weather, or the chaos lurking beyond her apartment. Tonight, her mind was on him—Jason Todd.

Jason was not someone easily forgotten. The first time they had met, Y/N had been struck by how much of a contradiction he was. There was something magnetic about him, something that pulled her in despite her initial resistance. His smirk was reckless, his voice a mix of sarcasm and grit, but behind that rough exterior, Y/N had glimpsed a vulnerability that he kept buried beneath layers of trauma. Jason was a storm—unpredictable, dangerous, but also mesmerizing.

They had never been the type for grand gestures, nor had they needed to be. Their connection was built in the quiet moments between the chaos, in the fleeting instances where neither of them had to fight against the world. Jason, despite his vigilante persona as the Red Hood, always found time to seek her out, to collapse into her apartment in the dead of night when Gotham became too heavy for him to bear alone.

And tonight, Y/N knew he was coming.

The faint sound of a grappling hook catching on the railing outside reached her ears, and her heart skipped. A soft thud followed as Jason landed on her balcony, barely making a sound, the shadow of his figure looming just beyond the sliding glass door. She didn’t have to look to know it was him. There was a certain calm that filled her when Jason was near, even when he brought the weight of his world with him.

The door slid open a moment later, and there he stood, clad in his usual black jacket, the hood pulled down as his helmet dangled loosely in his grip. His dark hair was a mess from the night’s work, and there was an exhaustion in his eyes that she knew too well. He always came to her when he had nowhere else to go, when his war with Gotham’s criminals had left him raw and vulnerable.

“Hey,” Jason’s voice broke the quiet, low and rough around the edges, as if even speaking cost him energy tonight.

“Hey,” Y/N replied softly, a small smile tugging at her lips. She set her laptop aside, uncurling from her spot on the couch as she stood to meet him.

Jason kicked the door shut behind him with the heel of his boot before he made his way over to her, each step heavy, deliberate. Without a word, Y/N stepped closer, her arms instinctively wrapping around his waist as his arms draped around her shoulders. For a moment, they stood in silence, holding each other. Jason exhaled slowly, as though simply being in her presence allowed him to let go of the tension he carried like armor.

The silence between them was comfortable, filled with the unspoken understanding that no words were necessary to convey what they felt. It was moments like these—quiet, intimate, and real—that made everything else fade away. With Jason, Y/N had learned that not every connection needed to be defined or labeled, that sometimes just being there for someone, offering them a place where they could let their guard down, was enough.

“Rough night?” she asked quietly, her cheek resting against his chest.

Jason let out a humorless chuckle, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “When is it not?”

Y/N pulled back slightly to look up at him, her eyes scanning his face, searching for signs of whatever weight he was carrying this time. His jaw was clenched, tension radiating from him in waves, but his eyes—their usual sharpness dulled by exhaustion—softened as he looked at her. He never said much about what haunted him. She knew the broad strokes of his life, of the brutality he had suffered and the way it had shaped him into the man he was now. But the details? Those he kept locked away.

“Come on,” Y/N said, taking his hand and leading him over to the couch. “You look like you could use a break.”

Jason didn’t protest, letting her guide him without a word. He sat down heavily, the weight of his night pulling at his shoulders as he slouched against the cushions. Y/N followed, sitting close beside him, her hand still entwined with his. For a while, they sat like that, the only sound in the room the steady rhythm of their breathing.

If I lay here… If I just lay here… Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

The lyrics played softly in her mind, echoing the sentiment they often found themselves in. Jason was the kind of person who chased after everything—revenge, redemption, justice—but never seemed to catch the peace he so desperately needed. And yet, here with her, in these moments, it was like they were both finally able to just stop running. To stop fighting.

“I could stay like this,” Jason murmured, breaking the silence. His voice was barely a whisper, like he wasn’t sure he wanted her to hear.

Y/N’s heart ached at the words. She knew what he meant. There was a part of him that was always looking for an escape, always looking for a reason to believe that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to be the man he’d become. That he didn’t have to live in the shadow of the Bat, or under the weight of his resurrection. But life wasn’t that simple, and both of them knew it.

“I know,” she said quietly, squeezing his hand. “I could too.”

Jason turned his head to look at her, his blue eyes filled with something that was neither love nor longing, but something in between. It was the look of a man who didn’t know how to express the depth of his feelings, who didn’t know how to ask for what he needed. Y/N had seen that look so many times, and every time, it broke her heart just a little more.

Without saying a word, she reached up, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, her fingers lingering against his skin. Jason closed his eyes at the touch, leaning into it as though it was the only thing anchoring him to this world.

“You don’t always have to fight,” she whispered, her voice gentle, like a soft breeze on a summer night. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, Jason.”

His eyes opened, searching hers for a moment, as though he was trying to find the strength to believe her. But Jason had been fighting for so long that he didn’t know how to stop. He didn’t know how to let go.

“I don’t know how to do that,” he admitted, his voice raw, vulnerable in a way that he rarely allowed himself to be.

Y/N shifted closer, resting her head on his shoulder. “You don’t have to figure it out alone.”

For a moment, Jason didn’t say anything. He simply sat there, staring at the far wall as though the answer to all his problems was hidden in the peeling paint. But there was no answer, no easy fix for the life he led. All he had was the here and now, and the woman sitting beside him, offering him a lifeline he didn’t think he deserved.

But maybe, just maybe, he could let himself have this one thing.

Jason leaned his head against hers, closing his eyes again. “If I stay…if I stop…” His words trailed off, the unspoken fear lingering in the air between them.

Y/N knew what he was trying to say. He was afraid that if he stopped, if he allowed himself to let go, the pain, the anger, the guilt—it would all catch up to him, and he wouldn’t know how to handle it. But what Jason didn’t realize was that he didn’t have to face it alone. He had her.

“If you stop, I’ll still be here,” she said softly. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Her words were simple, but they carried a weight that made Jason’s chest tighten. He wasn’t used to having someone who cared for him like this, who saw beyond the mask he wore and loved him anyway. It scared him, how much he needed her, how much he relied on these quiet moments to keep him sane.

But tonight, under the soft glow of the moonlight, with the city sleeping below them, Jason decided to let himself believe her. Just for tonight, he would let himself stop chasing the ghosts of his past and allow himself to simply be.

So they lay there, side by side, in the stillness of the room. The world outside continued to spin, but for Jason and Y/N, time had slowed down, allowing them this brief moment of peace. They didn’t need to talk about the future or what came next. All they needed was this—the quiet, the comfort, and the promise that neither of them had to face the darkness alone.

And for once, Jason didn’t feel the need to chase anything. Not the stars, not revenge, and not his demons. For once, he was content to just be here, with her, forgetting the world.

[aplaceforyourhearttorest]

A to Z ⭒ Jason Newsted (18+)

Ask Anything you ask for, he's giving it to you. Not in the sense of him coming off as being submissive, but in the way where your pleasure easily and usually becomes his as well. He loves listening to the way your tone and voice becomes heady and heavy, the slurring and intertwining of your words enough to bring him close to the edge, as you mewl out for him and plead for him to slide his hand a few inches up higher on your bare thigh, or to stick his tongue in and curl it up just a little bit further inside of you. By the time you're already falling apart and unable to coherently say and attempt to verbalize another word, he's already drunk off the taste of you, and ready to have you continue to struggle to formulate even more on top of him, and then beneath him again.

Bondage He'd use anything from the classic pair of handcuffs, to the flimsy and nearly see-through fabric of your t-shirt, with the hem and haphazard stitching tickling the insides of your trembling wrists as he'd twist and turn you into the perfect, temporary position. Jason would dislike using anything too harsh like rope or nylon on you, due to him not being in favor of you having marks on your skin that don't originate from his teeth, lips, or curled fingertips edging and indenting themselves into your flesh. He'd use his belt if you asked him to, most likely in a setting that isn't your guys' home or during a quickie, with him behind you and keeping you steady, one fist enclosed over the used leather and the other one gripping your midsection, or cupped around the nape of your neck.

Cunnilingus As much as Jason loves to receive, he enjoys giving even more. He'd take his time with you, the teasing and playful side of his personality coming out as he'd make you writhe with pleasure, most likely only giving in and slowing down once you're trying to push him away or beginning to seize with oversensitivity. He'd make out with your pussy, his tongue hungrily pushing your lips apart after sucking hickeys into each one of them, your prerelease and essence making its way down to drip onto his chest as he holds you up over his head, with your clit pulsing on the bridge of his nose and your stuttered and shallowed breaths fighting to make their way out of your shaking chest. If he's receiving, he'd let you take reign, only thrusting forward and fucking himself into the heat of your mouth if you signal to him and allow him to. He'd be pliant and tense underneath you or standing near the end of the bed, the praises falling from his blood red and bitten lips giving you enough confidence and steadfast to swallow him down to the hilt. You'd instinctively and readily have your mouth wide open and tongue peeking out as he cums, his seed warmly cascading itself thickly down your cupids bow and chin like caramelized honey, with you licking it up like so.

Dirty Talk One of your favorite things is to hear him praise you, each time he does making you flutter around him. Whether it be his dick, his fingers, or his tongue, it gets to you every time. If he's sheathing himself into you for the first time that day or night, his voice is breathy and borderline tense, overwhelmed at the feeling of your vicelike grip around his length. If he's fingering you open and following his digits with an eager and abandoned flick of his tongue, his tone is calm and grounding, deepening as your moans begin to hitch and heighten in sound. If he's tongue deep in you and bearing you open with gripping fingers pushing your tremoring legs apart, he's just grunting, hungrily taking you and barely slowing down to allow you to properly breathe. If you're in turn going down on him, with your mouth trailing and traveling down to the light dusting of hair near his groin, you're filthily whispering how good he already tastes and how you can't wait to get him in your mouth. His answering dopey grin and high blush are telling enough, and so are his grunts and choked sounds of pleasure, once you finally take him in and suck him dry and for all he's worth.

Edging Edging only really happens if you both have time to take it slow or are fully alone together, which is a rarity, due to him mostly being on tour or at the studio with one, or the entirety of the rest of the band. But on the off occasion that you two are, all bets are off, and you two are spending the whole time together in bed, or anything you two can makeshift into one. You both wouldn't be fully satiated or content until you're each exhausted, and almost unable to move afterwards. He'd have you in every position from gripping onto the wood encasing his tour bus bed, to helplessly holding onto his forearm tightly wrapped around your collarbones, as your knees slide off of one of the cushions on a sofa in one of the empty rooms at their recording building. You'd be panting with tears in your eyes every time he'd purposefully slow down or evade your spongelike spot, his usual praises turning mildly degrading as you hungrily cant your hips back and try to grind yourself back onto the whole of his length. Jason wouldn't be too far from where you were once it's your turn to edge him, your earlier desperate expression turning into a mirthful one, as you cockwarm him and slow your riding to a halt every time his ballsack raises and tightens to graze itself against the bottom of your reddened asscheeks. By the end of the night and hours later, you're filled to the brim, and Jason's happily empty.

Foreplay It can be anything from a cuddling session turning into you two shuffling off each other's clothes in a frenzy, to you two purposefully and slowly turning each other on, with slick slides of tongues and appendages on every inch of skin in a mouth's reach. If you want to make it special, you'll wear something lace-like and silky under a normal outfit and surprise him with it once you two are alone, or give him a peek of what you're hiding if you begin to get impatient and are tired of waiting. If Jason's wanting you to himself and you're in public, he'll brush his bottom lip against your earlobe and casually murmur in your ear about how much he wants to take you apart, and remind you of the last time he had you debauched and filthy underneath him. He'd be rubbing slow and careful circles into the small slither of bare flesh above your denim bottoms, the callouses from his years of hard work adding on to and fueling the heat making its way and tethering itself in your middle. "Come on, sweetheart. I know how badly you miss being good for me," he'd grin at the slight jump in your next inhalation and at the unintentional pause in your conversation, the pads of his fingertips tracking their way down to tug onto your belt loops, the motion aiding in pressing your backside against his growing and pulsating bulge. "I want to hear how loud you can get for me again."

Groping He's always got a hand or an arm resting on or around you, whether it be on the small of your back, or on the top of your thigh, with his fingers spread wide and massaging comforting figure 8's into your skin. A straightened elbow resting upon your hip, while his palm goes lax on your lower stomach as he stands behind you and presses your back flush to his chest. If there's alcohol involved, or if he's uncharacteristically feeling bold, he's got a hand fully extended into a back pocket of your jeans, and he's kneading his fingertips into your asscheek, his beer long forgotten in his other. Seeing as to how shy he sometimes comes off as and out of respect for you, he only fully lets go once you two are away from others and onlookers. As soon as you two are alone, he's got you splayed and sat in his lap with your jeans unbuttoned, the hand he once had in your back pocket, now lowering itself past the thin material of your underwear and down to caress your sex. His other palm is sliding up to grasp onto your breast, before sliding your shirt and bra strap to the side and parting his lips for a taste. You've got a hand intertwined and engulfed in his curls, guiding him down and silently encouraging him to take whatever he wants and needs, while your other hand runs itself down the expanse of his back over the fabric of his top, still able to feel where your nails left indentations in his skin from not so long ago.

Hickeys Even though the two or you are in a proud and public relationship, any easy to see hickeys or love bites on either one or you could cause an uproar. Has caused an uproar, after you two made the mistake of covering each other with them in obvious purple and red, proud clusters and hues, before a music award show appearance. The comments and questions thrown around you two while at the public setting didn't bother you too much, but Jason felt overly protective of you afterwards, and got you to agree to no more marks above your guys' collarbones. It wasn't hard for you to get used to, since that one incident had you two getting more comfortable with sucking and biting marks into each other's chests and hips, and everywhere and anywhere beneath. Jason's favorite places to mark you at are your breasts and your groin, even though he often sucks them into your pubic bone and the inner, sensitive skin of your thighs. The public's reactions dwindled down after you two learned your lesson, but became the least of your worries after getting caught by the rest of the band after you and Jason tried to go for a swim in the guys' shared pool at their house, after a long night of edging and teasing, and of course, kissing and biting. The next time you planned to go over to theirs again, you brough a t-shirt, and an extra long pair of shorts with you.

Intercrural On the days where you felt too sore for penetrative sex, but still wanted to be active, you would initiate humping without clothing. The bare friction of Jason's swollen cockhead relentlessly making contact with your clit wasn't as stimulating as him being inches deep inside of you and fucking into you with reckless abandon, but it was still more than enough. Especially with your guys' foreheads nearly pressed up against each other, sharing open mouthed kisses, with your boyfriend's strong and steady hands guiding you up and down his throbbing and erect length. He'd swallow every single one of your stuttered moans of his name, and you'd lap at the taste of the nicknames he'd groan out at the same time you would tighten your calves around his thighs and roughly grind your bare sex down onto him. The sopping wet sound of his precum and your slick would reverberate around the bedroom and somehow complement the shared exhaled whimpers and curses, and you'd fully welcome the slight twinge of pain your body responded with as you carefully sat down on his length and buried him inside of you, right before you both simultaneously came.

Jealousy Jason rarely ever gets jealous, and neither do you. But when it does happen, it isn't a big thing. There isn't any yelling or arguing or name calling, just heavy silence, or the one that's feeling downtrodden and insecure closes in on themselves for a bit. For Jason, he's only ever gotten jealous once, and that was after seeing you interact with a longtime friend that came over once for a family dinner. Nothing happened in between you and that friend, but your boyfriend still felt like he would be a better fit for you or more easily accessible, since he doesn't have to travel as much as he does, and already got along with the people closest to you. You've gotten jealous yourself once or twice before, after seeing the way some fans would grab at him and attempt to jump on him after shows, and during meet and greets and signings. The way that some of them would flirt with him while you were standing near was off-putting and uncomfortable for you both, but also it made you wonder what would have happened if you weren't there. Luckily, whenever these issues and minor doubts occurred, you were both able to open about it soon after and talk it out. No matter what you two thought about yourselves and temporarily doubted due to insecurity, he would be the first person to make you feel better and reassure you, and you would do the same.

Kissing As soon as you woke up, there was a kiss being placed on your forehead. And then on your nose, and then on your mouth. Morning kisses were usually slow, unless one of you woke up heated or weren't able to finish each other off the night before. You two would kiss each other in greeting, even if one of you only went to the other room to grab something, and then came right back. The simple touch of lips ground you both, and is a simple declaration of the other still being there. If you two haven't seen each other due to conflicting schedules, your guys' kisses are much more passionate and long lasting. If Jason is headed out for a leg of a tour and you aren't able to come with, the whole night before and the morning leading up to his departure is filled with you two reminding each other of the way you two taste, and promising each other of what is yet to come. And sometimes, you two just make out for the hell out it. Panted breaths and slick strands of saliva still keeping you two connected, seconds after you two already part. Similar tasting tongues coaxing each other's mouths open and licking up to a roof of a mouth, audible sounds of kiss swollen lips reconnecting after a haste and rushed kiss. You two can barely keep away from each other, and you both wouldn't want it any other way.

Licking If he's got his mouth on you, his tongue is involved. Anything as simple as a brief neck kiss, his tongue is peeking out to wet his lips, and darting back out as soon as his pair make contact with your clavicle. If you've got something on the side of your mouth, he's brushing it away with his finger and then licking his thumb and sucking the residue away clean, his warm appendage wrapping itself around the fingertip to lap it up. If he's having his way with you and he's able to take his time, he's mapping the entirety of your body out with his tongue. He loves to lick along the inside of your breasts and down to your groin in a slow swipe, then lightly blow on your dampened skin and watch as you arch your back and as goosebumps awaken on your flesh. He loves to bite and suck marks down on your then sensitive skin, and place open mouthed kisses on the precipice of your pussy, until you come back to enough to spread your legs wide for him, fighting back a shiver at the look in his eyes, and at the cool air pillowing itself against your soaked sex. He'll continue to lap and flutter and strain his tongue against you after you orgasm, until you're squealing and he's already swallowed and eaten every single drop your body accumulated for him. And when he's back on his knees and towering over you, hard dick smearing prerelease on your jolting stomach, he feeds the taste right back to you.

Masturbation He doesn't find it necessary when he's around, because he's there and present to constantly please you. The only time he's down to touch himself or have a mutual session, is if he's on the road and you guys filmed something together for him to watch and look at while he's gone, or if he's touring and he's finally able to have some time on the phone with you. If he's home or in a nearby city where you're able to visit, he's nearly on you as soon as he sees you, unless he's on stage performing. He sees the fun and excitement in it, and he'd bring it up and offer it if you two ever have enough free time before edging, but it isn't something he'd jump for. He definitely prefers having his own hands on you, and being able to make you feel as good as he possibly can and knows he can. Knowing he's the reason as to why you're falling apart and he can control it, makes it a lot more fun and fulfilling for him.

Non-negotiable He's open minded and willing to try almost anything at least once, except for anything that puts you at risk of getting stuck in the wrong mindset and subspace. Which means no to full on degradation and hitting, as well as harsh deprivation and lack of verbal consent. He loves how adventurous you are and how well you match with him, but you feeling safe and protected is what matters the most to him, as well as your pleasure and making sure that you're well taken care of.

Orgasm One is never enough, and most of the time, you two are too into it to count up and tally the final ending number. Seeing each other climax is one of your favorite things to do together, at least sexually. Jason finds it a privilege to be able to watch you tense and shudder, sometimes to be able to feel you cum around him right before he spills his seed inside you. The way you nearly lift off the bed, the way your legs tighten around his broad shoulders, the way your nails dig in and cling onto his sweat laden skin, the way your mouth parts in a nearly perfect O shape every time, the way your eyes daze yet always stay on him, the way you smile when you come back to in his arms. If seeing you orgasm is a privilege, then seeing and feeling your boyfriend cum is a blessing. The way he grunts your name like a devotion against your bare skin, the way his hands tighten on you and secure you in his hold, the way he pistons himself into you, and then pulls you down fully onto him and presses kisses into your heated and flushed flesh. The way he looks fucked out and drunk afterwards, so satiated and satisfied and relaxed. The way his hair halos out underneath him, once he has you positioned on top of him, with your legs intertwined with his, and your head resting on his still heaving chest, uncaring of the mess you two lie in as you two try to ground yourselves again.

Positions He loves when you're on top, and not even in a selfish, you doing all of the work type of way. With you in cowgirl or reverse, he's able to guide you by the hips easier, and it brings more purpose to the mirror you two have a few feet away from your bed. He can also find his footing on the mattress easier underneath you, and bear himself up into you in deeper strokes than in missionary and doggy. With you having your hands near his head as leverage before you tire, he can bend you in half and be able to hit your g-spot, and be able to rub you against his groin at the same time, so you'll be double stimulated. He also loves the hot seat, which is when he has you sit on him on the edge of the bed, right in front of the mirror, and you both watch as he uses his hands and forearms behind himself to buck himself inside you, only slowing down or lowering you to lightly encircle his hand around your throat, or delicately fist the loose strands of hair from your face, so you can see clearer, and he can properly watch as you're pushed over the edge. He also loves the position of missionary, with your legs over his shoulders and your chests nearly touching, where he can bury himself into you over and over again, and then easily slide down to eat you out afterwards until you're unable to stop crying and shaking.

Quickie You both love quickies, especially after a good performance and after good news. There's always something exciting when it comes to them, and you both find a thrill in the action when you do it in the studio, or in a bathroom backstage at a venue. Although you two love privacy and being able to take your time, nothing beats having your boyfriend's jacket or hand in or covering your mouth as you try to stay quiet, as he takes you from behind or against a counter or sink, and you both struggle to contain yourselves. You from making a sound, and Jason from stopping himself from allowing you to drip all over the bathroom floor, from him to not getting on his knees and eating himself out of you after he finishes. The walk of shame is always fun afterwards as well, with the both of you sharing a secretive smile, and Jason sneaking an arm around your middle if you find it a bit hard to stabilize yourself for a while afterwards. It's always a fun thing to reminisce on, and to also reenact when you both get the opportunity to.

Roleplay Anything from a nurse to a clueless non-fan at an empty concert venue, is something you guys do for fun. Not only because it's exciting and something new to make things even more fun, but it's also funny as hell. Sometimes you'll both add in accents, or you'll take it seriously and end up having the best sex you've had in months. The great thing about being with someone who's as open as you are to new experiences, is that you're able to speak up about what you want to try and test out. It also means you've both spent an absurd amount of money on costumes. Your guys' favorite is strangers meeting up, where you two will pretend like you don't know each other, and then will eventually meet each other halfway, and have amazing sex that almost feels like the first time all over again, just like all those years ago. If you two want to just laugh shit off and have a good time, nurse and doctor, or maid is the way to go.

Sensitivity You're the most sensitive on your lower stomach and in between your thighs, and Jason takes advantage of knowing that fact. So much at times, that you become hesitant with him going down on you, because you already know he's going to make you weak and damn near oversensitive within a few minutes. By the time you're close to orgasming, you're covered in love bites and spit clad, kiss shaped marks, and your boyfriend is licking and sucking and making out with your pussy to the point where you're almost hyperventilating, and his fingertips are purposefully pressing themselves into the marks he's proudly left behind. Jason's most sensitive spots are right near the sides of his upper hips, and right above his groin. You don't tease him as much, but you're still as attentive as he is and make sure to please him in every way he wants and needs. Until he's shaking just like you were, and he's spilling down your throat with his head thrown back, his words slurred and unknown, with the only one coherent enough being your favorite nickname he calls you.

Threesome As open minded as Jason is when it comes to sex, he wouldn't be alright with just sharing you with another man or woman. He doesn't see you as someone or something he owns, but he's in a relationship with you for a reason, and he has a feeling that you would be opposed to him inviting another woman into the bedroom as well. If it were to ever come up or if you were to ask about bringing someone else in, it'd either be a no, or someone very close to him who he knows well. The first person that comes to mind, is Kirk. Kirk's been known to be sexually open and adventurous, and during his drunken ramblings, he's boasted about how good he is at giving oral sex. He also knows that Kirk is attracted to you as well, since it came up in a conversation a few months before you two officially got together. So, he most likely wouldn't be okay with it, but if he were to say yes if you ever asked, Kirk would most likely be the first person he'd say yes to, from his close circle.

Universal Every man loves a good sixty-nine, and your boyfriend is just that. Jason loves to go down on you on his own, but that's only because he likes to take his time, and he doesn't think he'd be able to do you good if you're sucking and swallowing him down as good as you normally do at the same time. But on the rare occasion that you two do sixty-nine, you both have a lot of fun. The mutual muffled moaning both adds to your guys' sensitivity and stimulation, there's a healthy balance of sensory deprivation, and the feeling of the weight of you on top of him is grounding. Plus, he loves it when you sit on his face. The last time you two tried it out, you nearly blacked out from his enthusiasm, and Jason almost gripped you too tightly by your sides after you took him all the way down your throat without even stopping. You both agree though, that tasting yourselves on each other's tongues and then moving on to doggy style soon after, did make the whole experience a lot more memorable.

Vibrator All the way, yes. If you guys are experimenting and trying out new positions and tricks, a vibrator is always used to make sure that you're still able to orgasm. Jason's also allowed you to use it on him once as well. You brought it up once during a conversation, and were surprised when he easily said yes. You placed it underneath his cockhead, right below and on top of the large protruding vein traveling itself down his shaft, and hungrily watched as he fell apart, all while occasionally lapping and licking at his tip for a bit more of added sensation. Watching his balls tighten, and then feeling them tighten up against your spit clad palm as you gently massaged them, had you soaking through your underwear and in awe. By the time Jason came back to and was calmed down enough to praise you and pick you up to place you under him to switch positions, you were already thinking about using it on him again. Luckily, you both had the same thought and idea.

Where Preferably at home, but like I said before, you guys are adventurous. Backrooms, empty bathrooms, studios after recording, the tour bus. Anywhere where you two could get a little bit of privacy, but also have a little bit of that fearful excitement of getting caught, when you're in the mood for that. But most of the time, at home. Where you two can be fully naked and tie each other up occasionally, use toys, be in more flexible positions than just gripping onto a used couch or sink, and take your time with each other. Make and take the time to break each other apart, and then bring each other back together. Multiple times in a row, usually.

X Factor This man loves every single thing about you, but his favorite thing has got to be, that you're where and who he feels the most at home and at peace with. With life constantly changing and the states changing with it, his only real stable thing in his life is his relationship with you. You always make time for him, reassure him, make sure he's feeling wanted and loved, and have treated the rest of his band members and family members like your own. You are his biggest blessing and gift in life, and he treasures the hell out of you. And there's never a single moment in time where he doesn't remind you of that, or treat you the exact same way.

Yes and No Yes to spanking, no to face hitting or smacking. He thinks it's too invasive and disrespectful to you. He's down for all of the biting and sucking and semi-public sex the world has to offer, but potentially bruising you on your face, or making you cry in a way that isn't pleasurable? Absolutely not. He'd rather have it happen to himself than to you.

Zip As cool and as fun as it is to have bathroom sex and sneak around every once in a while, this man wants to hear you. He also wants to eat, lick, suck, bite, be inside, cum inside, and cum outside of you and on you, but he also just wants to hear you having a good time. As much as you enjoy reassurance and knowing when your partner is being pleasured and having fun, so does he. So, let it out. He fucking loves when you're loud, and when you're praising him as much as he's praising you. That's what it's all about.

[soulsocietyfanfiction]

Suguru Geto receiving comfort from his girlfriend y/n

░▒▓██▓▒░░▒▓██▓▒░░▒▓██▓▒░░▒▓█ The room was filled with a tense silence as Suguru Geto sat at his desk, his head buried in his arms. His eyes were red and swollen from crying, the aftermath of a failed mission etched clearly on his face. Y/N, his concerned girlfriend and classmate, approached him slowly, her heart aching for his pain. She knew that words alone wouldn't be enough to soothe him, so she decided to let her actions do the talking.

Y/N gently placed her hand on his shoulder, the warmth of her touch seeping through his shirt like a comforting blanket. "Suguru," she whispered softly, her voice filled with empathy. He didn't move at first, but after a moment, he lifted his head, revealing the depth of his anguish. "You can talk to me, you know. I'm here for you."

Geto looked at her, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I'm sorry," he choked out. "I couldn't save them all."

Y/N slid into the chair beside him, her eyes never leaving his. She knew that the weight of his failure was crushing him, but she also knew that he wasn't to blame. "You did everything you could," she said firmly. "You can't save everyone, and that doesn't make you any less of a hero."

He nodded slightly, but the guilt remained, a heavy burden on his soul. Y/N reached up, wiping a tear from his cheek with the pad of her thumb. "Let it out," she encouraged. "You don't have to be strong all the time."

Her gentle touch seemed to break the dam holding back his emotions, and he buried his face in his hands again, sobbing quietly. Y/N wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. She held him there for what felt like an eternity, her heart breaking with each of his shuddering breaths.

As the sobs began to subside, she whispered sweet nothings into his ear, trying to reassure him that everything would be okay. "You're not alone," she said, her voice soothing. "I'm here with you, and I'll always be here for you."

The warmth of her embrace slowly began to melt the ice around his heart, and he found himself leaning into her, drawing comfort from her presence. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with her calming scent. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice muffled by her hair.

They sat in silence for a while, the only sound in the room being the steady beat of their hearts. Then, as if on cue, Geto's arms snaked around her waist, pulling her closer. Y/N felt his breath hitch, and she knew what was coming next. She turned her head to face him, and their eyes met his filled with a mix of pain, regret, and longing.

Without a word, Geto leaned in, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss. It was a silent plea for comfort, for understanding, for love. Y/N responded instinctively, her arms tightening around him as she melted into the kiss. The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as they both sought solace in the warmth of their connection.

Their kiss grew more passionate, as if they were trying to erase the pain of the world with the sweetness of their embrace. Geto's hands roamed her back, while hers found their way to his cheeks, holding him as if she could absorb his sorrow through her touch.

Their kisses grew more fervent, as if they were trying to express all the unspoken words of comfort and support they had for each other. They broke apart for a moment, panting, their eyes locked, and in that brief second, they both knew that they had found refuge in each other's arms.

With a silent nod, they leaned in again, their lips meeting in a fiery kiss that spoke of shared pain and unshakeable love. It was a promise that no matter what the future held, they would face it together. And in that moment, the darkness of failure seemed a little less overwhelming.

[demigod-shenanigans]

Long overdue Pipeyna posting:

It’s the way they balance each other out and mirror each other.

I think a lot about what Piper said in regard to love and hate being almost identical emotions, neither of which can be reasoned with, and that being why Ares and Aphrodite like each other.

It’s about how they start out resenting each other—Reyna sees Piper as the person who took away her best friend. Piper sees Reyna as a threat to her relationship with Jason. Except that’s not the whole story, is it? Because Piper thinks about Reyna much more than she should. Much more than Jason does, honestly. And the second Reyna lets herself trust Piper, she trusts her fully. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And it startles her, because usually Reyna takes a long time to let people in. But the others join the fight and though Reyna’s eyes should be drawn to Jason, she finds them on Piper instead.

Reyna and Piper understand each other in a way only the child of a war goddess and the child of the goddess of love can. They’re two sides of the same coin.

Piper sometimes struggles with thinking she’s not especially useful in comparison to her friends who seem much more powerful, whose skills seem much more helpful in combat. Hell, she’s outright stated to be surprised Reyna and Annabeth find her diplomatic skills handy at the end of BoO.

A lot of Piper’s character centers around her feeling invisible—the first time we see this is with her dad, whose attention she keeps trying to gain with her stunts, except it doesn’t work. She stays invisible to him. And that can never change. Because once he sees her for who she really is, it breaks him, and she has to make the heartbreaking choice to ask him to look away again for his own good. Piper has a power that literally centers around her ability to make people look at her and listen to her, and yet she cannot keep the attention of her dad, and she doesn’t think it’s really enough to have earned a place among her friends.

But Reyna sees her, even without her charmspeak. Reyna looks at Piper and in her role as the child of a war goddess, what can she see except all the ways in which Piper is a warrior? All the ways in which Piper is capable and brave?

Reyna on the other hand struggles with her emotions and not being able to let other people in. She keeps her cards close to her chest because that’s the only way she knows to keep herself safe. Even when she loves, she loves in a way that’s subdued, because she was taught from a young age that love isn’t a thing that’s safe. Love locks you up at night because you’re a threat. Love is angry and dangerous and could get you killed if you slip up—if you say the wrong thing or move the wrong way or if it’s simply having a bad day. Love is a thing that at any given moment could explode in your face.

She doesn’t even share how her powers work because she’s afraid it might go wrong somehow if she does—that the others will feel like she’s somehow manipulating them instead of supporting them.

But Piper looks at Reyna and she sees right through her, sees all the ways she’s hurting and how exhausted she is, because with her powers, what can she see except Reyna’s emotions, no matter how tightly Reyna tries to keep them locked up?

Piper knew what Reyna’s power was without being told. She just sensed it and immediately understood how it worked and how it must drain Reyna. And Reyna feels briefly terrified when Piper brings it up because she always assumed people knowing would change their opinion on her. But Piper is only mentioning it because she’s worried about how those powers must affect Reyna. About whether she’s getting enough rest and has a shoulder to lean on about it all. And that’s never been anyone’s main priority before—especially not Reyna’s (something something Reyna being raised to protect New Rome. Her powers actively benefiting others while draining her. The way she’s never quite able to live for herself).

They instinctively see and feel drawn to the part of each other that other people struggle to see at all and it makes me a bit crazy actually.

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

the body language. the fucking body language ?????

[lynpheas]

dunno if anyone has or would catch onto this, but in my fic “all the petals fall,” i lowkey based helia’s reaction to flora using witch magic on a wangxian dynamic !! hehe… oh to transcend the rigidity of your moral scruples through an inciting incident by someone you deeply love… romance.

examples under the cut:

“One against two, Lan WangJi still refused to back off. He gazed at Wei WuXian, “Wei Ying, for cultivating an evil path you would eventually have to pay. Throughout time, there has not been a single exception.” Wei WuXian, “I can pay.” Seeing how unconcerned he seemed to be, Lan WangJi lowered his voice, “The path would not only damage your body, but your heart as well.” Wei WuXian, “Damage or not, how much damage, I know it the most. As for my heart, it’s my heart after all. I know what I’m doing.” Lan WangJi, “Some things you cannot be able to control at all.” Displeasure flashed across Wei WuXian’s face, “Of course I can control it.” Lan WangJi walked a step closer. He seemed to be about to speak again when Wei WuXian closed his eyes, “After all, on the topic of how my heart is, what could other people know about it? Why should other people care about it?” Lan WangJi paused. He had suddenly been angered, “… Wei WuXian!”

excerpt from

grandmaster of demonic cultivation 魔道祖师

mo xiang tong xiu | translation from exiled rebels scanlations

“Lifeblood is dark, Flora,” Helia insists. “You saw how you were out there. You were bloodthirsty. It controlled you.” “I never lost sight of myself,” Flora argues. “I swear to you, I never did. If I had, those wizards would be dead right now. I would’ve ripped their arteries from their bodies and taken their hearts as spoils of war. But I didn’t because I was only using my power to save my friends. My friends and you, Helia, the man I love!” “Do you even hear yourself right now, Flora?” Helia says, bewildered. “All this talk of blood and murder — I never thought you to be capable of such morbid affairs!” He pauses, “No, wait, I did. You and the Winx are strong, you’d be able to do anything for the sake of the universe. I just never thought I’d see you take such joy in it.” “Lifeblood is life, Helia,” Flora says, exasperated. “Dark and light are not as diametrically opposed as you think. They’re codependent. One would not exist without the other. In the end, they’re both morally neutral — what matters is the wielder’s choices.” “Morally neutral by whose standards?” Helia queries, resigned. “Mine? Or yours?”

excerpt from

all the petals fall (of the flowers that bloomed in my heart)

lynpheas | ao3

[solasan]

i’ve had the worst week so im not rly here BUT i did finally read the infamous update n boy howdy let me tell u the forced proximity is hitting so hard

[shidoukanae]

Paris Valerian but i redesign his dragon form for funsies based on how i see him=. Not sure if I like this design bc im not a fan of bulkier looking dragons but for Paris I think this works??

Some headcanons about this design:

has a bit of a bull-like look bc I associate bulls with persistence and madness and idk that fits Paris well so if Fian has a “fox” motif Paris gets a “bull” one for his dragon form 

His design is based a lot on how a stereotypically evil dragon would look???? Because imo OG!Paris reads as a massive antagonist and I think giving him a look that fits that vibe in his dragon form works!! Especially because he still is an antagonist in a way (though god does he not read that way lmao)

he’s stronger in his dragon form than Fian is and he uses this to his advantage to bully Fian around whenever they playfight as dragons. That said, it seems Paris is surprisingly gentle towards Fian in this form and never hurts him.

he uses this form to intimidate people into getting what he wants. He’s not used to getting retaliated against while in this form and quickly respects anyone who does so (read: Fian, Lyla and Helene)

the silver scales on his body can glow in the same way his eyes do. Typically, he keeps them dull-colored (see above) but if he feels a strong emotion of any sorts they’ll glow brightly without him meaning to (noticeably: they glow constantly whenever Helene is around for obvious reasons~).

[scoliosisgoblin]

Your version of YB is so sweet! I love seeing him being all sweet and protective over Jay / your sona / OC ❤️

hehhe yeahh

Jay and Peter have quite a wholesome relationship for the most part. I don't draw it really nor do I post it, but they do fight a lot. in the beginning it was usually just passive comments from Jay and Peter getting frustrated being unable to satisfy him

I mean, it's cause Jay had a bunch of issues at the time but anyway

[alastorss]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor's antlers are embarrassingly, pathetically, unbearably sensitive.

He can't for the life of him figure out why—it's not like any of the other transfigured creatures wandering around the underworld were made this way. Most other animal-like sinners don't seem to care about or even acknowledge their characteristics.

Yet here he is, purposefully hiding them away just so that no one will discover his terrible weakness. Oh, what he would give to be like the others if only to ignore their incessantly uncomfortable presence on his head.

Perhaps it was a curse from heaven that made him this way, or karma that he was repaying from his life. Either way, he can't stand being touched.

At least, that's what he thought.

There's no malicious intent behind your hands, no glint in your eye that makes the primal instincts in his head scream at him to melt into the shadows. You're as gentle as can be, fingers running delicately along the intricacies of his antlers and stopping just at the ends of them.

"They're beautiful," you whisper with your eyes blown wide. Your shoulders rise and fall with each rapid breath, probably from the adrenaline of standing so close to an Overlord like this. And Alastor, no less.

Your reliable hotelier. Your first real friend in the hotel. The one whose smile cannot be trusted.

But for some reason, you can't shake the feeling that he's looking at you with pure, genuine appreciation even if his smile is a little wonky.

"Why, thank you, darling!"

He jerks away from you quick as the wind, standing tall once again and towering over you. His expression has morphed into something more strained—you can tell by the way his face creases up as his eyes narrow.

He was the one who decided to invade your personal space while the two of you were arguing. He just didn't think that you would be so bold as to get distracted by his antlers and have the gall to reach out to touch them.

The worst part? The absolute worst part of it all is that no one in all the time he's been in Hell has been gentle with him like that.

Add that to the list of things he despises. Or likes. You're confusing him now.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You have some nerve, he thinks.

Your hands have found a new home resting atop his head, with your fingers combing through his hair and tracing up and down the curve of his antlers.

It becomes a nightly routine—him on the barstool or sitting in front of the piano and you standing behind him with your fingers tangled in his hair and your chin on his head, perched right between the horns. Others in the hotel have started to raise a brow, but you don't seem to care.

So when you finally decide to break routine, sitting on the opposite end of the couch from him, his eye twitches.

There isn't even an audience tonight, everyone else already tucked into bed save for Husk behind the bar who's too busy with a bottle to care. The silence between you is heavy as lead.

"Is something the matter?" Alastor finally abruptly asks, eyes narrowed at you from the side. You shift uncomfortably.

"Why would something be the matter?"

He's not in the mood for games right now. "This is the first time you've sat away from me in months," he observes.

You look at him, surprised by his hostility over this. "Well, Lucifer told me that you don't like—"

"Lucifer," he interrupts, head now whipping to the side so he can fully glare at you. "Knows nothing."

You blink at him, stunned. With the way he's acting, he almost seems... annoyed that you've decided to stop being so handsy?

Silence overcomes you again as you just stare at each other, completely at a loss of words. Alastor finally realizes his snappiness and composes himself once more, exhaling through his teeth.

His smile softens at you, missing its usual edge. You know him like this the best—head in your lap and antlers exposed. It's familiar to you in a way that it could never be to anyone else. At least, you hope that's true.

"He knows nothing," the radio demon says one more time for good measure, eyes drifting shut under the weight of your hands.

Alastor has never liked to be touched before. But maybe there is a first time for everything, and maybe the safety of your touch brings him enough ease that you're the first he admits he can tolerate.

His smile says it all. He's content like this, even if he would deny it with his chest if you ever told anyone else.

"Okay," you breathe. "I believe you."

[bpmiranda]

IM BEGGING FOR A LOGAN X FEM READER WHO CAN TURN INVISIBLE BUT WHEN SHES NERVOUS OR FLUSTERED SHE DISAPPEARS INVOLUNTARILY essentially it’s just logan flustering reader till he disappears??? (mostly fluff but also suggestive/smut end)

Your Perfume (Logan Howlett)

A/N: fluffy, age gap, 18+ f!mutant reader (invisibility), kinky!logan, suggestive content towards end

When you first arrived at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, you were quite nervous and flighty. Often disappearing for hours on end in order to avoid talking to anyone, hiding in plain sight while two or three teachers searched for you. More often than not, the only person that could successfully find you was Logan.

“I can smell your perfume.” He’d smirk after having located you in the garage. You appear to him behind the wheel of one of the vehicles where you were reading a book and he chuckles. “Hiding again, kid?” He asks as he leans his forearms on the car door and peers in at you.

“Not hiding,” You say with a light blush on your face as he’s so close and you can smell the cigar and leather on him. “Just creating a quiet space for myself.”

Logan nods and then opens the driver’s door, instinctively you scoot over into the passenger side and he sits next to you. “You don’t like your classes?” He asks.

“They’re fine, the professor’s are lovely, I just-” You sigh as you bookmark the page you were reading. “I don’t want to be here. I miss being home.” Your parents had sent you away at the first opportunity, unwilling to deal with your mutation, and it stung. “I miss my family.”

“You know,” Logan rubbed his face gently and then patted your knee, making you blush again. “I’ve heard lots of other kids say the same thing, and eventually, they realize this can be a family too.”

You smile kindly at him, appreciative of him taking the time to talk to you, and you want to thank him until the garage door alarm goes off and you jump, disappearing completely once again which makes Logan laugh. “Did you find her?” Storm asked after turning the alarm off.

“Yeah, I found her, but we’re gonna have to put bells on her.” Logan teases which makes you giggle, the only thing letting him know you’re still sitting beside him.

Logan’s way of acclimating you to the mansion is quite different from that of the other professors. While the others are kind and helpful in assisting you with resources and encouragement, Logan had gotten a kick out of startling you. It was all fun and games, and it made you laugh each time because you knew his goal was to scare you into disappearing which he always found hilarious.

Logan would sneak up on you in the halls, starling your books straight out of your arms, laughing before he helped you pick them up. He’d see you sitting by the fountain with a friend and rev his motorcycle loudly, chuckling to himself as he watched you disappear. You had planned to get your payback late one night when you found that he was sitting alone in the common area. You focused on turning invisible and snuck up behind him quietly, ready to pounce when he suddenly said, “I smell you, sweet girl.”

You stopped in your tracks and frowned, walking around to stand in front of him and becoming visible again. Logan chuckled at the pout on your lip. “You smell me?”

“Your perfume,” He smirked, bringing the beer he was sipping to his lips while you watched him. “I recognize your perfume.”

“Oh,” You blushed, folding your arms over your middle and smiling shyly. “Good nose.”

“You have no idea.” Logan winked at you and you bit your lip, nodding before quickly returning to your bedroom, your face hot from that interaction.

While you were in the kitchen one evening, fixing yourself a cup of tea, Logan had woken up out of his sleep and wandered downstairs, smirking to himself when he smelled your familiar scent. Quietly, he made his way into the kitchen and saw you standing with your back to the doorway. Changing his mind about his approach at the sight of you in your pajama shorts, he walked closer until he could put his hands on your hips and you gasped.

Immediately, you disappeared and turned around to see Logan grinning, searching through you as you were now invisible to him. “Logan,” You scolded, pushing on his chest, but he didn’t budge. “Don’t do that!”

“Let me ask you something,” He said with a mischievous glint in his eyes that made you flustered. Fortunately, he couldn’t see the blush on your cheeks. “If you’re invisible,” His hand felt its way up your side, gripping onto your top and blindly guiding himself to your shoulder where his fingers pressed into the base of your neck, his thumb smoothing over your collarbone. “And I kiss you, would I fall through you?”

Your eyes were wide as his other hand on your hip continued feeling you, groping you though you weren’t visible to him. Logan’s nostrils flared as he smelled your arousal and he sighed, his tongue peeking out to moisten his lips. “Logan,” You whispered shyly, your hands turned fists against his abdomen while he was closing the space between the two of you. “I-you-”

“I love that perfume you wear, sweet girl.” He murmured, leaning in and smelling your neck where his hand had been holding you. “I can smell you getting excited at the thought.” His lips pressed against your neck and you trembled, you felt him smile against your skin before his tongue poked out and circled the dip of your collarbone. “Let me try something?” He asked, grabbing you firmly and lifting you up to sit you on the kitchen counter, feeling for your knees and then stepping between them as he pushed them apart.

“Okay,” You granted him permission. “But I can’t stay quiet.” You warned.

“Just stay like this,” He whispered, his lips finding yours with ease. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

Your Perfume II

Invisibility kink x Logan?👀

[happy74827]

Say Yes to Heaven

[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Sometimes all it takes is one look. One gesture. One word. One action. To remind them that not everyone sees them the same, and It's enough to send a person over the edge.

WC: 3690

Category: Fluff, First Kiss, Logan’s POV

Another Grumpy!Logan x Sunshine!Reader because it’s my comfort trope ✨🫶

『••✎••』

He never realized how much he wanted someone to care for.

It was something he didn't know he desired. A year ago, he didn't care for a single thing. He felt nothing. He was so numb. So empty.

He was an angry man. The kind of man people kept their distance from. Wade ruined that; he aggravated him so much that Logan started actually caring about his life. And for as much as he despised his fugly ass, he was internally grateful for him. He started to open up more and more.

Wade had a part in taking him out of rock bottom, as they say, but you… you aggravated him in the most endearing way possible. You were so bright, so happy, and full of life. Logan couldn't understand how someone could be like that, and he hated you for it. He thought it was so ignorant of you.

"I mean, come on, how could she be that happy all the time? It's fucking dumb. She doesn't even know me!"

That's what he said to Wade, but his roommate only laughed. He found his frustration hilarious and made fun of him constantly.

And don’t even get started on the way you spoke. Never once have you raised your voice at anyone. You always talked softly, and even if you were pissed off, you still found a way to make your words sound gentle.

The man couldn’t wrap his mind around the way you acted, you weren’t a mutant, but you damn well could have been with that forever customer service smile you wore every day.

The level of patience and understanding you held for people was insane to him, especially the amount of patience you held with him.

He was constantly telling you to fuck off, and you took no offense; you just returned that stupidly kind smile and told him that if he needed anything, you were there for him.

You had no clue what he’s done, what he's capable of, and yet you treat him with the utmost respect. And being a mutant, respect, and kindness were two things he hadn’t received in a very long time.

It made him realize things—about himself and others. He started noticing you a little more—the way you looked and the way you acted. It started out as simple confusion and disgust… the typical reactions one would have when one sees an overly happy person.

But it evolved slowly into intrigue and curiosity.

Then something else. Something he couldn't describe.

His first instinct was to push it away. To try and convince himself, he was disgusted. He did this with everything he felt, but he couldn’t keep lying to himself.

It wasn't disgust.

He couldn't name it; he wasn't ready to, but he knew it wasn’t that.

Wade had noticed the change in him, the way he looked at you, the way he started being a little less rough with the words he chose to say. He didn’t bring it up, but the shit-eating grin he gave each time Logan walked in and saw you was more than enough proof that he had picked up on it.

Of course, it only resorted to grins because the one time he opened his mouth, Logan didn’t restrain himself. He popped his claws and had to go couch shopping the next day.

Whoops.

So, with Wade keeping his mouth shut after being chewed out by Blind Al and Logan trying his best to push away the foreign feelings, it finally reached a point where he could no longer ignore them.

He didn’t understand why, of all nights, it had to be this one, but it was.

It was 3 am, and his old nightmares had come back to haunt him. He was restless, sweaty, and couldn't take another second of sleep.

It took a rinsing of the bathroom sink and a pitiful glare at his reflection for you to return his gaze.

He froze for a second.

You were wearing a large T-shirt, with a pair of shorts underneath. Your hair was messy, but it looked so soft, and your face was clear of makeup, leaving the imperfections of your skin that made you all the more beautiful.

Always wearing a smile. Always greeting him with a soft voice, sometimes a little raspy if just waking up, butnonetheless soft.

But once he rubbed his eyes and let out a tired yawn, you weren’t there anymore.

Because you were never there, you lived across the street. You were in your apartment, sleeping, with no idea that, at that moment, the man who constantly told you to fuck off realized he couldn't stop thinking about you.

The same man who would grunt, scoff, and throw away every kind gesture now realized he secretly cherished them.

He stood there for a moment, just pondering his thoughts. His eyes were still on the spot he saw you in.

His head turned to the right, seeing the digital clock that rested on the nightstand.

3:02 am.

You were asleep…. most likely asleep. You would be unhappy if he came over and woke you up, wouldn't you?

He looked back at the sink.

You could be upset, but you could also be happy. You could give him that smile. That sweet, warm smile.

It would be worth it, right? Just for that?

3:04 am

He didn’t think about it. Not even for a second. Ironically, it started raining as if to test him, but the man was determined.

He put on a jacket to cover his bare chest, threw on some random shoes, and was out the door before his mind could stop him.

3:13 am

He knocked on your apartment door. He was completely drenched from the rain. His hair was messy, his jacket sticking to his body, and his shoes were so wet that the squelching sound they made was the only thing audible.

He heard shuffling. Soft steps coming closer. He could smell your scent. It shocked him how easy it was for him to recognize it.

You unlocked the door. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

His mental image of you being in sleepwear, messy hair, no makeup, had been confirmed. You were beautiful.

You had a tired look, one of the many looks he wasn’t used to. But it was still a good look, and it still held your signature kindness.

He had a feeling it would.

You didn't look too shocked, just tired and confused.

You spoke. "Logan, is…? Are you okay?"

Your voice was even softer than usual, the raspiness it held only making it more comforting.

You were genuinely worried about him, and it hit him then that he was being an asshole. Making you wake up in the middle of the night, and for what? Just because he wanted to see you?

Just because of that, he should’ve given you a reason. An explanation.

He should've asked. He should have done so many things differently, but he didn’t.

His head was in the clouds, and all he could think about was you.

You. That was all.

But his expression gave away that he was in a daze, and your worry only grew.

"Logan? What's wrong?"

You stepped out into the hallway and reached a hand to him.

His heart jumped a bit when you did so. It was just a gesture—one simple act of compassion.

He wasn't worthy of that, but he couldn't resist. He didn't want to.

Your fingers barely brushed against his upper arm before he moved. He grabbed your wrist.

His grip wasn't hard. His hold was gentle, as he had no intentions of hurting you. You could’ve easily pulled your arm away if you wanted to, but you didn't.

His eyes locked with yours. He wasn't sure what possessed him, but it felt so right, so he followed his instincts.

He tugged at your wrist, causing your body to fall into him. Your chest pressed against his. His arms wrapped around you, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other resting on the small of your back.

The embrace was so sudden, and he knew the situation was far from ideal, but his senses were overflowed by your presence, your scent, your softness.

His chin rested atop your head, and his eyes fluttered closed.

It wasn’t the first time he ever hugged someone, but it was the first time he hugged someone in such a way. He held onto you tightly, his grip possessive but not painful.

He was afraid to let go.

He felt your hands press against his chest. You were probably going to push him away, he thought, and he tried to prepare himself. He told himself he would let you go because it was the right thing to do, yet he didn’t need to.

You hugged him back, and he almost lost his footing.

How long had it been since he last received a hug? Since the last time, someone held him and showed him affection?

Too long.

Your hands went inside his opened jacket and held onto him. Your fingers pressed against his skin, and your soft, warm breaths caressed his neck.

He could stay like this for eternity, and he would never grow tired of it.

Your voice reached his ears.

"Logan, did something happen?"

He had been standing there for quite a while. He wasn’t aware of how long. Time seemed to freeze around you, but he didn’t mind. He wasn't one to believe in such nonsense, but when it came to you, he was ready to accept it.

Your hand rested on his arm, and he knew you were subtly prompting him to move, and so he did.

He pulled away from the hug just enough to look at you.

Your lips were turned upwards. The corners of your eyes creased.

"Logan?"

It was then that his actions registered—how utterly close the two of you were, how intimately you were holding each other. He was already warm just from genetics alone, but now he felt everything around him heat up.

"I-"

He didn't know what to say. It was like he was back in that bar, drinking away every thought. He couldn't think. There was nothing. Nothing but the feel of your body against his.

But what truly sealed the deal was when he felt your thumb gently caress his knuckles. It was a small movement, barely noticeable, but it was centered exactly on the scars his claws made.

That little movement made his brain short-circuit. His hands twitched. His grip tightened. He held onto you with his entire body as if scared to let you go.

"What happened?"

You were patient with him. The fact that he hadn’t even answered any of your concerns said enough.

But, eventually, he did find some words to respond with. It wasn’t the answer you were searching for, but it was a response.

"Why are you always being so fucking kind?"

It was such a simple question, and yet the amount of pain it carried was overwhelming. He knew you could hear every word behind it. Every word he couldn't bring himself to say.

He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t a good man. He did horrible things, and sure… he made an attempt to make up for it. To be better, but it couldn’t have been enough, could it?

You were still here, looking at him with those soft eyes.

Why couldn't you look at him the way he deserved to be looked at? Like he was a monster.

Why did you have to look at him with those goddamn beautiful eyes?

"You deserve kindness, Logan. We all do."

And then, your voice became even softer and a little shaky. Your hands went back to massaging his knuckles. His scars.

"Just because you see yourself a certain way doesn’t mean the rest of us do. I see the good in you. Always have since we first met."

You spoke so softly, yet your words were heavy with emotion.

"I know it's not easy, but try to have a little more faith in yourself."

You didn’t deserve the harsh words he always threw at you. You didn’t deserve any of his anger. You didn't deserve him.

"Why?" He repeated his question, his voice strained, and you didn't miss the way his jaw clenched. "Why should I?"

His arms loosened their hold around you; his hands moved down your sides, and his touch feathered light. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he couldn’t quite let go just yet.

You paid it no mind. Only staring back into his eyes with the same kindness he was so used to, the one he had grown to treasure.

"You have a right to feel the way you do, Logan. And I can't claim to understand what you've been through. I can't begin to imagine. But you are a good man. A little rough around the edges, maybe, but you’ve shown me time and time again that you're trying."

A smile crept its way onto your face, and a soft giggle escaped past your lips.

Now, to be fair, he was used to hearing your laughter. With your… odd sense of humor, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. But, this would be one of the firsts to add to his collection.

The one reserved for him and him only.

Your laughter wasn’t loud, or annoying, or anything like Wade's. It was soft, sweet, and oh-so pleasant.

You were looking at him. Staring up at him with such love and warmth. You didn't even realize it, but he did.

"Besides, who wouldn't be a little grouchy waking up to that handsome face every morning?"

And, now, he was repulsed by the unwelcome vision of a certain masked man making his way into his head. He was so disgusted by the thought he didn’t bother responding. He didn't want to.

So, instead, he moved.

He had a habit of moving on his own and not thinking about it. It went from his hands going to your sides, and now, his hands reaching out to press against the door behind you.

You were pinned against the door, and the way you looked at him didn’t change. Of course, it didn't. Your eyes were always kind. They always were.

You were leaning against the door. Looking at him, waiting.

And he stared back.

He was so close, and he was tempted to pull away. To take a step back and leave. It would be the best for both of you; at least, he thinks so.

He couldn't give you anything.

He had nothing.

There was only himself. His body. His mind. His past.

His claws, too, if that counted for anything.

But, besides those, there was nothing.

He wasn’t a bad man, but he wasn't good either. Not like you were. He couldn’t possibly begin to match you, not even if he tried.

Which is why he had no intention of trying.

Yet, even as he thought that, his body moved even closer. The dog tags he had never taken off since he was given them hung loosely, dangling in front of your face.

One of your hands was on his chest, the other gripping onto the material of his shirt.

"Logan."

You spoke his name so softly. Almost a whisper, and yet, the sound of it was all his senses were focused on.

Your gaze shifted between his eyes and lips, and the hand that had been holding onto his shirt moved, reaching up to his shoulder.

The touch was light, as if hesitant, and it caused him to lean even closer.

It was so close. You were so close. You had been before, but never like this. Never in the way he wanted.

He wanted you so badly.

And you were right there. Looking at him with those eyes, with a soft, tender smile, and with an expression he didn't recognize.

He knew that was an invitation. You were always an open book, and your body language was no different.

And it wasn't the first time you did so.

There were many times when you looked at him. Your eyes trailing over his face. Your gaze went downwards, lingering before you snapped out of it and looked away.

He always saw it, always knew it was there, but he just chose to ignore it. He wasn’t in the right mind, then. He was just another broken man, struggling to get by, trying his best.

Trying to find some meaning in his life.

But, even now, he was still hesitant. Even after coming all the way here and making his intentions clear, he struggled with it.

"Are you sure?"

Because you were so much better than him.

Because he could still remember the day the two of you met. How much of an asshole he was, how rude, how angry.

It wasn’t until the seventh time you approached him that he realized that he had met someone who genuinely, wholeheartedly cared.

It wasn't until the twentieth time you approached him that he finally accepted it.

He could never forget the way you smiled and spoke to him, even though he had given you no reason to.

"Hi, Logan!"

You would say.

"Good morning!"

You would wave.

"Have a nice day, Logan."

You would nod, even though the man himself chose to ignore you. Goddamn it. You were so much better than him.

Much purer. Much more innocent.

You had a heart of gold, and a soul as white as snow. You were so good, so kind, and the thought of soiling you, of ruining your light with his darkness, it scared him.

It was the sole reason he didn't give in, even now, with you offering yourself to him.

He didn't want to ruin you.

"Yes."

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

Your eyes were so kind. So full of love, and the same emotion reflected back in his own.

But, even with the clear sign of assurance, he still felt the need to create one last line of defense.

With the hand against the door, he peeled it back enough to have your eyes catch sight of the fist it made.

In a millisecond, he unleashed his claws and slammed his fist against the door, the sharp adamantium easily slicing through the wood, causing the door to crack.

And, yet, no reaction. Not a single flinch, not a wince, not even a hitch of breath.

You weren't afraid. Not at all. Even as the claws were mere inches from your face, you weren't scared.

The corners of your mouth twitched. Upwards, and it soon bloomed into a bright smile.

He retracted his claws, and gave you another once-over, just to be sure, and you responded by lifting your hand, grasping the metal chain hanging from his neck.

Your fingers grazed against the cool metal, and your smile softened before turning into a small grin.

"For a man who states he isn’t scared of anything, you sure have a lot of defense mechanisms, Logan."

Teasing. That was a new one for you.

He liked it.

"Say it again." Now, finally, you showed a different expression. Confusion mixed with curiosity. You were wondering what he meant. "My name."

"Logan."

For you, his actions were mere seconds. You had no time to process the feeling of his breath against your lips. The feeling of his stubble tickling your skin. The feeling of his warm, dry lips pressed against yours.

But, for him, it was a slow, steady motion. He took his time. He pulled you closer, his hands moving from the door and cupping the back of your head and your waist.

The kiss was soft. Gentle. Nothing rushed.

He held you like you were fragile. Like you were made of porcelain and could break at any moment. He could, theoretically, but he would rather go through Cassandra’s entire repertoire of torture than hurt you.

He lifted you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck, his own pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin.

You tasted exactly how you were. Pure. Sweet.

Like heaven.

He was sure he was leaving that of the bitter alcohol he had downed on your lips, but you didn't seem fussy about it.

Not that he could focus on anything else, anyway.

He was too distracted by the way his tongue danced with yours.

Too focused on the taste of your mouth.

Too distracted by the way your hands made themselves a home in his wet hair. They would tug every once in a while, releasing a groan he hadn’t known was there.

He was too distracted to care.

He was too lost in your scent. Wade always called him that character from that shity vampire movie due to his nose.

He always disagreed until you happened to mention the resemblance. Then, and only then, did he see the logic.

And you saw the logic here, too—the logic of how good you melted together. Experiencing it now made him question his decision to stay away.

If it was always going to be this good, this intoxicating, he should’ve done it a long time ago.

He should've taken the chance.

It would've saved the two of you a lot of frustration, and a lot of headaches.

But it didn't matter. He was here now.

And, as his foot broke into the door, mouth still latched onto yours, with him figuring his way about your apartment, he thought:

It doesn't matter.

As long as I’m here.

As long as you’re in my arms.

It doesn't matter.

Fortunately, that meant he didn’t have to wake up to that toupee-stapled face every morning, as he had so dreadfully imagined.

Unfortunately, it also meant that the next time he saw Wade, he would have to deal with him talking his ears off about what had transpired.

But, for now, he could live with that.

He was more focused on the fact on making sure you weren’t regretting your choice.

Because he sure as fuck didn’t.