#this was at first just for me but i thought that maybe other people could enjoy it too :)

[naamahdarling]

You know what? You know what I think?

I think that if we lived as we were meant to, in larger intimate ("extended family") groups and with more shared labor and time to do it (UBI NOW) people like me would not feel so useless and burdensome because there would be people around to help and to do what neurodivergent people can't while making valuable space for the neurodivergent to do what they ARE good at.

The way we live right now, all right, the way we live right now forces units of two adults to be able to do EVERYTHING or PAY to have someone come do it for them. I have to do the housework. I have to do it! But I am having to do a million different things and most of them I am not good at. I suck at them.

I wouldn't feel like shit, okay, if I had more than one other person around who was not a child and who could do the things I can't, like do the yard and cook and do repairs and basic maintenance; and someone else to split everything else that I like but is too much for me. It would free me to do what I am good at and enjoy. Cleaning, as in the sink and toilet, the windows, the blinds. Taking out trash. Folding, hanging, and sorting laundry.

But because all the shit I can do often relies on other shit being done first, and I can't do or have trouble doing those things, the shit I can do often can't be done. And even the shit I can do, I can't do ALL of it. So I can't keep up, and things get very bad.

We aren't meant to live like this. We are not meant to live like this.

That thought hurts so much because being able to flee the birth family is integral to survival for so many people. I'm so afraid that living in larger family groups would create more opportunities for, say, queer kids to be isolated, rejected, bullied, and abused. But if we gave people enough money to survive, and stopped considering children the property of their parents with no system in place to help them escape bad situations except a system that is often just as bad, just different.

I'm aware that communes and collectives aren't all that successful and are kind of a joke. I don't mean that. I mean a fundamental shift to multigenerational families where taking in "strays" (which my family did) is also normalized so people escaping abuse into existing households was accepted, with these families centered in maybe a couple of different larger residences so not everyone has to buy and maintain their own fucking washing machine and vacuum cleaner, and so people can benefit from large group meals that yield leftovers, and so child and elder care can also be centralized.

Then disabled people and the neurodivergent and sick and injured people, and pregnant people, and grieving people, would not have to either labor through all those stressors or consign themselves to living off an unlivable pittance or being put under legal guardianship.

I'm not saying anything new. People live like this in other parts of the world and maybe it sucks and I am wrong. But I'm just really mad right now because I can either do laundry or clean the sink but not both, and I really think we could improve society somewhat by making it so I did not have to choose one without sacrificing the other.

[forever-rogue]

It's a Lifestyle

AN | Hello, its me! Back from the dead for my favorite time of the year. It's just a sweet little scene with Eddie and his angel and their love of Halloween! 🥰

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eddie looked forward to coming home every day. So much. Like so much. 

Because he always knew that you'd be there, excited to see him, even if it hadn't been that long since you'd last seen each other.

He parked his truck in the driveway of the small house that now belonged to the two of you.

A very own home for you both.

He noted your car in the driveway as well, but when he came inside the house, you weren't there to greet him. He took off his boots and set them by the door, reaching down to pet Pickles as she wound herself around his legs. The small black cat purred loudly before giving him one final rub and heading over to the window to sit on the ledge and stare outside. People and animal watching had become a favorite pastime of hers.

"Angel?” he called out, wondering where you had managed to disappear too. He poked around downstairs but found nothing but the delicious smell of fresh brownies. It was like you'd known that he had been craving them. You definitely made the best brownies…not that he was biased or anything.

When you didn't answer him, he climbed up the stairs, assuming you were in the bedroom or office or…somewhere. Hopefully.

As he got to the top of the stairs, the floor squeaked slightly. That alone was enough to alert you to his presence, “Eddie?”

He followed the sound of your voice down the hall and around the corner, finding the stairs to the attic pulled down, “its just me. What're you doing up there?”

“Hi my love,” your pretty face appeared and made him smile, “I'm just going through some boxes to find the Halloween Decorations! I know I have some from the years past-”

“It's not even September yet,” Eddie raised an eyebrow, amusement written all over his face. He was trying not to laugh, but it was all in good fun.

“Halloween is a year round tradition, Edward!” You beckoned for him to come up the stairs, “its not my fault that my year round decor just happens to be Halloween appropriate. Halloween is a lifestyle.”

“I thought it was a holiday?” He started to make the short climb, quickly standing up next to you. He gently took your face in his hands, beaming at you.

“It's a lifestyle,” you repeated, putting your hands on his forearms, smiling back at him, “hi.”

“Hi,” he leaned and kissed you softly, pulling away much sooner than you would have liked, but you knew you'd get plenty more later, “Halloween being a lifestyle choice makes sense considering your skull collection.”

“It is an impressive skull collection,” you mused before kissing him again. When he had first met you he was surprised to find that you collected all sorts of different replica skulls. You didn't give off the vibe immediately but he found that they did suit you, “wanna help me decorate, handsome?”

“For you? Anything,” he agreed, heart swelling at the pure joy on your face, “you want to decorate now? We'll decorate now.”

“And maybe go shopping for some new decorations?”

“Sure baby,” he promised, “you never decorated our old apartment much.”

“It was small,” you shrugged softly, “and that only felt like a home because of you. But this is our home now, one we worked hard for. And there's no one else I'd rather be here with. Now we have the freedom and ability to make it our own, however we want.”

“Yeah,” fondness colored his voice as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I love you, you know?”

“I love you,” you threw your arms around him and gave him a cuddly, tender embrace, “now, my love, will you help me bring the boxes downstairs?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed dramatically before immediately getting ready to bring everything down the ladder. You could have asked him for the moon and stars and would have gotten them for you, “I hope you know I'm only being nice because you made brownies.”

“I knew I made them for a reason,” you grinned at him, “you're not a hard sell, Eddie Munson.”

“You're lucky I love you!”

“I love you lots and lots,” you promised, moving the first box towards him so he could bring it down, “and then some!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I'm not sure about this,” Eddie frowned at the coffee currently nestled in your hand, eyebrows almost disappearing into his dark curls, “why do you want a drink that tastes like pumpkin?”

He was, meanwhile and as usual, holding a cup of hot, black coffee. You grinned and shrugged your shoulders before talking a long sip, “because it's delicious and the right amount of sweet and spicy. Besides, it doesn't taste like pumpkin, it's the spices. Try it.”

“What if I die?” He scoffed dramatically before taking the cup of your hand taking a tentative sip. You watched his face go through several emotions before he finally swallowed.

“It's good, huh?” You knew him well enough by now to know when he liked something. He mumbled something under his breath before handing the coffee back to you, “and you didn't die.”

“It's…acceptable,” he tried to play it off but you could see him struggle to hold his laugh back. He quickly grabbed it again and took another sip, “I wouldn't try it again.”

“Whatever,” you kissed his cheek before taking your coffee back and looping your arm through his, walking him in the direction of the home goods store you'd dragged him to. Not that he was really complaining - he loved Halloween too after all, “you don't have to admit I'm right.”

“You wish,” he rolled his eyes dramatically, eyes widening when he noticed all the Halloween items in the shop’s window display, “wow. That's so much Halloween…and it's still so early in the season.”

“That's how it is nowadays,” you shrugged, “but it's to my advantage!”

“What exactly is that you're looking for?”

You moved to step in front of him, looking ridiculously cute in your sweater and scarf and boots, all bundled up to stay warm, “we are looking for whatever speaks to us. You gotta feel it in your gut.”

He couldn't help but laugh as you reached for his hand and laced your fingers through his, “whatever you say, angel.”

“We don't have to do this,” you whispered softly, “if you don't want to, I don't want to make you do this, or to make you feel obligated-”

“I want to do this,” he promised, “I love spending time with you, whatever we do.”

“Me too,” you relaxed, smiling shyly at your boyfriend. You reached over and tucked a rogue curl that had escaped from his bun behind his ear, “c'mon on then! Oh - you get to pick what we do next. Wanna go to Guitar Center maybe?”

His eyes lit up as he nodded. He knew that you weren't a music nerd like him, but you always listened intently when he spoke about it, often getting very passionate. You always supported him and his music and he couldn't ask for more.

 “Hell yeah.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That afternoon you spent several hours walking around and looking for the perfect Halloween and fall decor for the house. It was, admittedly, a lot more fun than Eddie could have imagined.

Plus, the two of you had gone to Guitar Center afterwards. Which hadn't hurt. You always felt like you were lost when Eddie got really into talking about music, but you loved how passionate he was about music…everything really.

The only thing that was left to do was to get pumpkins for the front porch and maybe some pie. But that you wanted to do closer to actual Halloween so the pumpkins wouldn't rot. Although Eddie had insisted that would look metal as fuck. 

The two of you had decided to make it a date day and by the time the two of you were heading home it was later into the evening.  Eddie was driving your car, one hand on the wheel and the other one was holding yours.

Music was playing quietly as the two of you talked about anything and everything that crossed your mind. After a while, a content silence fell over the two of you as you stared out the window at the passing scenery.

“What're you thinking about, angel?” He quickly turned his head to look at you, his face illuminated by the passing street lights.

“Nothing,” you felt your cheeks warm up, and keep your eyes turned from his. he squeezed your hand and you knew better than to think he would leave it alone. That wasn't his style at all. You turned your head to face him, squinting your eyes before sighing, “Alright, its something. But it's silly and you're going to laugh.”

“I wouldn't laugh,” he insisted as you raised an eyebrow at him, “fine, I won't laugh unless it's very laugh worthy.”

“You're such an ass,” but you were laughing now, the sound full of adoration and affection, “I was just thinking about how much I love this.”

“This?”

“Us,” you watched a smile tug up the corners of his mouth, “I love being with you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he turned the street to your house, effortlessly pulling into the driveway and parking the car. You unbuckled your seat belt and turned to him, looking at him sweetly, “what? You're looking at me all funny.”

“I'm not looking at you funny,” you leaned over the center console and traced your fingers gently along his jaw, “I just really love you.”

“And…? I know there's something else you're not saying,” he took your chin in his hand and tilted your face up towards him, “out with it angel.”

“It's just that,” you bit your lip, sucking in a slow breath, “I can't wait to marry you one day. I mean. I know this is all real, that what we have is real. But I also can't wait to call you my husband one day. It's like an added little bonus.”

“Oh,” his pale cheeks turned bright pink as he tried to control his excitement. At first you were worried that he wasn't going to share the same sentiment but any worry that popped up quickly disappeared, “I can't wait for that either. I can't wait to call you my wife one day.”

“And you'll be my husband,” you whispered as he nodded eagerly, “you want to marry me too?”

“Of course I do,” he admitted shyly, “and I'm going to propose. You'll just have to wait and see when that is. It'll happen but you'll never know when.”

“Until it happens…”

“Until it happens,” he agreed. Eddie held out his hands and motioned for you to shuffle over the center console, “c'mere.”

“We're in the car!”

“Don't care,” he insisted, helping you over and onto his lap, “just wanna be close to you.”

“Even better,” you whispered as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close to your lips so you could kiss him. He sighed softly against your lips, his warm and sweet smell overwhelming you in the best ways possible, “I love you so much, Eddie. Thank you for always dealing with me and my shenanigans.”

“I've never dealing with you,” he nudged his nose against yours, “I love every bit of you. Plus I also enjoy all of your so called shenanigans. We just have…adventures. Silly ones, but good ones. and I happen to love Halloween as much as you. It's a win-win for me.”

“For both of us,” you pressed your forehead against his, “do you wanna go inside and put up some of the stuff we got?”

“Yes,” he agreed eagerly, “but I want to enjoy some more of you first.”

“What…oh,” you grinned, “I would very much like that.”

“Let's go then,” he opened the door and gently helped you out of the car, “no time to waste, m'lady.”

“You're such a dork!”

“So are you,” he countered, “but I love you regardless.”

“And I love you, Eddie."

[wandascrush]

Runaway Bride

Summary: There’s only one person you really want on your wedding day

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Weddings, love, crying, running away, lots of angst

Song: Someday I’ll get it by Alek Olsen

You were out of breath by the time you got there, crisp cold air hurting your chest. Your throat was as dry as sandpaper. Natasha was there, waiting for you like she always was. Your legs were tired from running, broken nude heels in your hands, beautiful and forgotten. The white flowy, soft fabric of your dress touched your body delicately, dragging and picking up the color from the wet mossy grass. Sore legs lowered down to sit on the grass next to the girl who once captured your heart…but she was silent. Just you two, alone. The air was so cold it hurt your bones. 

   You rested your head against the large oak tree that sat behind you two, making a little cove under its branches. So many thoughts were racing through your mind, “I’ve ruined everything. What will people think? I have to say sorry.” But once you saw your favorite spot waiting for you, with your favorite girl, everything melted away. You shouldn’t even be here right now, you shouldn’t have been thinking about Natasha, but she was the only person that ran through your mind. 

   “Long time no see, Natty.” 

    You’ve gotten used to her silence though, it kind of became her new character trait these days. Sometimes you pretended it didn’t hurt anymore, but it always did. A little more each time. Rain droplets started to fall around you, wetting every inch of dirt and stone. More green from the grass started to slowly seep into the beautiful white fabric of your dress. You knew her deep gaze was on you, looking at you with pity…maybe with love? 

   Your chest tightened as you blinked hard, vision blurring, “I was supposed to get married today, you know,” a sad laugh escaped your throat as you played with the fabric of your dress, “I looked beautiful. My hair was done and my makeup was perfect and-I was supposed to be happy today,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “I was supposed to be standing at that altar, looking into her eyes, promising forever. But I couldn’t even say the words. Because every time I looked at her, I saw you. And I hated myself for it.”

 “I’m so tired of missing you…and funny enough, I thought getting married would make me happier. But all I see is you. When I say my vows, it’s your name they’re written for.”

I think of you all the time, now that you’re gone.

    The rain poured down in relentless sheets, soaking through the dress. The sky above was a swirling mass of dark clouds and angry wind. Digging your manicured fingers into the soft mud, it felt like the only grounding thing. The feeling of mud seeping under your nails was the only anchor you had.

   You checked your phone, trying to wipe the rain off of it and realized that you’d already been there for over an hour with Natasha. You needed to get back, answer all the missed calls and texts. This would be the last time you two saw each other…something inside you was certain about it. Shaky legs stood up, using the big oak tree as support and grabbing the bouquet you forgot about next to you. 

   You slowly kneeled down in front of your first love, first everything, and pressed your forehead against her cold grave stone, “If love could have saved you,” breaths came in short, sharp gasps, salty tears falling into your mouth, “you would have lived forever, my Natasha.” Soft lips kissed the engraving of her name as you gently lied the bouquet down for her, grabbed your broken heels, and said goodbye. It took all your strength to not look back as you walked out of the private cemetery.

[lee-laurent]

T'es ben chix - Luke Hughes

Summary: Amélie decides Luke Hughes is the cutest boy she's ever seen, but she doesn't know how to tell him.

wc: 7k

content: fluff, a little bit of angst, kissing, panic attacks, anxiety, quick make out session, a couple dirty jokes, long distance relationship (let me know if missed anything!)

notes: don't let the title fool you, this fic is still in english!! i realized the other day while doing schoolwork that i don't have a fic that discusses being french-canadian. so... here we are! this fic was super fun for me to write and i incorporated experiences and challenges i have faced over the last few years. a lot of the mistakes that amélie makes are mistakes that i have made or that other french speakers make when speaking english bc sometimes we try to directly translate things and it just does not work lol i reallly hope you guys enjoy!!! and to any other francophones out there: let's be friends!!

just finished writing and it's about 5k words more than i was planning

Amélie honestly wasn't the biggest fan of going out back home, so going out in a place where she could barely speak the language was even worse. But a few of the girls she'd befriended had convinced her it was a good way to get to know more people and to let loose. She sat with the three other girls at a small table, her fingers drumming against the glass of her cocktail.

"Yeah, what did you think of that guy that presented today, Am?"

"Hm? He did... good."

"No, silly. Did you think he was cute?"

"Oh, um, he's... how do you say... not my type?"

"Not your type? Then what is your type, Am?"

"Probably that guy she's been making googly eyes at all night," one of the others teased.

"Who? The tall, curly haired guy in the corner?"

Amélie blushed, sipping at the alcohol for courage.

"Ooo, she's totally into him!"

"You should go talk to him, Am!"

"No... I tell you... no American boys," she waved them off.

"Well, that's too bad. Cause it looks like he's comin' over here. We'll be at the bar if you need us."

"Guys..."

But it was too late, the other girls were already up and headed towards the bar.

"Calisse," she mumbled, trying to ignore the tall figure approaching her table.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked. She looked up at him, her lips pursed. He had the same curly hair and boyish smile that her friends had been teasing her about. She really hadn't planned on talking to anyone tonight, let alone any boys. The girls knew her rule: no falling for any boys while she was in America.

"Uh... sure," she replied, gesturing to the empty chairs across from her.

He smiled, sitting down casually, rubbing his palms on his pants. "I'm Luke. I, uh, I thought I'd come introduce myslef since we, uh, made eye contact so many times."

Amélie bit her lip, nodding as he spoke. She barely knew enough English to follow what her friends were saying, and now she had to talk to some random guy at this bar she didn't even want to be at. "I, uh, I am Amélie."

"Amélie? That's a really pretty name. Did I, uh, did I say it right? Amélie?"

Her cheeks flushed, her eyes flickering down to her drink. "Yeah... that is right. Thank you." Her fingers tightened around the glass, trying to think of something to say next, but everything just came in French.

Luke could sense her hesitation, suddenly becoming way more nervous about coming over. Maybe it had been stupid. Maybe he was making her feel uncomfortable. "I just thought... I don't know. You seemed nice. Do you, uh, want to talk, or...?"

She met his gaze, taking a deep breath. He was trying and he seemed nice, like he really wanted to talk to her. "I... my English, it is not very good," her accent thickening as she spoke. "It is... hard for me."

Luke nodded, leaning forward slightly. He had teammates that didn't speak English as their first language, so he kind of knew what to expect. "That's fine. I'm sure it's better than my French. That is your first language, right? French? Sorry, I just assumed cause your name-"

"Yes, French," she cut him off, giggling at his rambling.

"I can barely say anything in French, so you've already got me beat."

His attempt to make her feel better worked... a little. "It is easier... to write. But speaking... more pressure, I forget the words lots."

"I get that. But we can just... talk slowly."

She sipped at her drink, waiting for him to continue.

"So, what brings you to Jersey? Not a lot of French people here."

"Exchange... at Rutgers. I am from Québec. Saguenay. But I come here... and I work on my English."

"That's super cool. It's awesome that you're pushing yourself to get better. I, uh, I went to Umich for a bit, but-"

"Umich?"

"Oh, right. University of Michigan. I lived in Michigan before I lived here."

"You move here because..."

"For hockey. I play hockey."

"Oh... that's cool. I like Les Canadiens. You play in the LNH?"

"The NHL? Yeah, I do. You like hockey?"

"Everyone in Québec likes hockey. Very popular."

"But you didn't know who I was," Luke teased.

"Only like Les Canadiens, sorry," she shrugged.

"Well, that's fair, I guess. The Habs are pretty big in Québec, huh?"

"Yes! My family... all big fan." She felt comfortable talking about her family, talking about home, the things she liked. Her dad watched every Habs game on TV and sometimes he'd even drive down to Montréal for a weekend to see them play.

"My family loves hockey too. Everyone plays. My mom, my dad, me, and both my brothers. It's like in our blood... or something."

"They play for... the same team?"

"One of them does. Jack, he plays with me. My other brother, Quinn, he plays in Vancouver," Luke tried to keep it casual, not wanting it to seem like he was bragging.

"Ah! The Canucks!"

"See, you know a bit about other teams," he teased.

"Shhh," she giggled. "Your family... they seem very... what's the word... talented."

"Guess you could say that."

She took another sip of her drink, her mind buzzing with questions to ask, but none of them coming to her in English. She wanted to ask more about his brothers, about how he started playing hockey, but her mouth just couldn't keep up with her brain. She also didn't want to come off as rude or obsessed with him because of his title, so she just nodded.

"You don't have to worry, you know. I'm not judging you," Luke comforted. "So, what do you do when you're learning English or watching the Habs? You got any other hobbies?"

"I like to... read. And bake... when I have time."

"Reading and baking," Luke mused. "What do you bake?"

"Everything," she giggled. "Tarte au sucre is my preferred. My mom... she always bakes with me."

"Tarte au sucre? What's that? Sugar pie?" Luke's eyes lit up. "You'll have to make me that one day. I've never had it."

"Maybe. You will have to see."

"Challenge accepted."

Amélie went to respond, but her phone buzzing stopped her. It was her friends calling, probably ready to head on to another bar. She didn't want her conversation with Luke to end, but she knew she couldn't stay there all night.

"I have to go. My friends... waiting," she sighed.

Luke's face fell a little but he nodded. "Yeah, I get it. But I, uh, this was fun."

"Me too."

There was silence for a little, neither of them wanting to be the first to say goodbye. "You should give me... your phone number. So you can try my tarte au sucre."

"Sounds like a plan," Luke said, handing his phone over for her. She typed in her name and phone number, adding a '<3' next to Amélie.

"Text me," she giggled, waving goodbye as she joined the other girls at the bar. Luke watched as the four of them started talking amongst themselves quickly, giggling as Amélie told them about her conversation with the hockey player.

He finally stood up, making his way back over to the table where his teammates were sat. Curtis raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk plastered on his face.

"Well, how'd it go, Romeo?" He leaned forward, failing to conceal his grin.

Luke rolled his eyes, "Good, actually. Really good."

Nico raised his pint, "Told you. You just had to go for it."

"So... what's next?" Curtis nudged him. "You ask for her number?"

Luke nodded, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, we'll probably meet up again."

"Probably?"

"Okay, fine. Yeah, we'll see each other again. I'm going to try her sugar pie she was talking about."

"Sugar pie? Is that what we're calling it nowadays?" Nico teased, causing the whole table to erupt in laughter.

Luke shook his head, letting the teasing slide. His mind was too focused on the girl with a French accent and promises of baking him pie. He had to see her again.

~~

Luke found texting Amélie way easier than he'd imagined. She wasn't lying when she said her writing was better than her speaking. Her texts barely ever had mistakes, in fact sometimes they were worded better than his.

They texted back and forth constantly, which earned Luke some teasing from his colleagues. In writing, Amélie was much more confident, returning his flirting with practiced ease. Her personality really shone through in a way it hadn't at the bar. She'd occasionally crack jokes, usually about how he didn't know any French and that she'd have to teach him. Their conversations flowed, talking about their days, sharing stories, discussing the schoolwork that Amélie had, and sometimes sharing pictures of their meals. Although Jack did most of Luke's cooking, he'd never admit that to the girl.

You have to come and try my tarte au sucre soon! Only if you're brave enough though ;)

Luke grinned at his phone, his fingers furiously typing back a reply.

Oh, I'm brave enough. Just let me know when, and I'll be there.

I will. Maybe next week? I need to make sure it's perfect first.

Deal.

~~

Amélie paced her apartment, making sure that everything was in order before Luke came over. She was even more nervous than she had been in the bar. She really wanted things to go well. They had decided to label the event as their first date, and although a bit informal, she was still shitting herself.

The pie was sitting on her kitchen island, untouched. She didn't want to eat any of it until Luke was there to eat it with her. She was worried he'd get in trouble because it wasn't part of his meal plan for work, but he had reassured it multiple times that it wasn't a big deal if he had a little pie.

Just as she was about to rearrange her throw pillows for the third time, there was a knock at her door. She froze mid-step, wiping her hands on her jeans as she made her way to the door.

It was just a pie. And it was just Luke. Nothing to be too worried about.

She hesitated for a moment before she pulled the door open, tilting her head back to look up at Luke. He was standing there in a Devils hoodie and some track pants, a baseball cap covering his curls. He looked relaxed, his hands tucked in the pocket of his hoodie. Amélie hated how nonchalant he looked in comparison to her.

"Hey," he greeted. "I brough my appetite, as promised."

"Good. I hope you are ready," she joked, stepping out of the way to let him in. He pulled off his shoes, taking in her cozy apartment. He laughed when his eyes landed on the big Québec flag hung behind her couch.

"I'm sure it'll be amazing. I'm looking forward to it, don't worry."

She nodded, though her nerves didn't disappear. She led him into the kitchen where the pie sat waiting. The smell of it filled the small space, warm and sweet.

"Wow, looks good, Am. Guess you weren't kidding about being a good baker."

"It's like you with hockey. My talent," she giggled, blushing as their eyes met.

"I don't know. Your baking skills may be miles ahead of my hockey skills."

"Don't lie. Let's see if it tastes as good as the smell," she grabbed a knife, finally cutting the pie into pieces. She placed a generous slice in front of Luke, taking in how comfortable he looked in the situation. She really admired how easygoing he was compared to her. It was their first date, but his demeanor made it seem like they'd been seeing each other for months. Meanwhile, her heart hadn't stopped racing since she opened the door minutes before.

Luke picked up his fork, flashing her a grin before taking his first bite. His eyes widened and he let out a pleased hum, "Holy shit, this is so good."

"You like it?"

"Are you kidding? This is like the best dessert I've ever had... don't tell my mom I said that. But really, Amélie, you've ruined all other pies for me. Can I take some home to show Jack?"

"Of course! I'm glad you like it. Is my mom's recipe."

"You should probably teach me how to make this, so I don't have to beg you every time I want some."

"I wouldn't mind," she giggled, taking a bite of her own slice. The taste reminded her of home and she suddenly felt a lot less nervous about messing up her English in front of Luke. They continued to eat their pie as they talked, shifting the conversation to more personal topics, wanting to know everything about each other.

Luke told stories about growing up with his brothers, sharing embarrassing moments from their childhoods and the occasional hockey-related mishap. Amélie found herself laughing more than she had since she'd arrived in America, her body filling with warmth.

"And that's how Jack ended up chipping his tooth. Our mom was furious, but Quinn and I thought it was hilarious," Luke explained, shaking his head at the memory.

She laughed, her shoulders shaking. "You and your brother... troublemakers," she teased, resting her chin on her hand as she listened to him talk. God, she could listen to Luke talk for hours. His accent was the cutest thing she'd ever heard and his smile curved up more on one side than the other, almost like a smirk. He was so perfect.

"Yeah, we were. Still are, I guess. But what about you? You got any fun stories about your family?"

"One time my dad, he take us to Montréal for a Habs game. And my older brother he had... he liked one girl he saw. But she was anglophone, no French. He goes up to her and he tries to talk English. But it was soooo bad. Even worse than me. He only knew maybe like three word. I think he said like 'Hey, you pretty, drink?' and she looked at him like he was... insane! He... he panicked and ran away. We bullied him for years after. Our dad, he will still talk about it at dinner sometime."

"That's brutal," Luke laughed. "Glad our first conversation didn't go like that."

"I am just better than him."

Luke shook his head, flashing his lopsided smile that made Amélie swoon. "Clearly. You've got the charm, no doubt about it."

"Maybe a little. But still I get nervous. When you arrive, I think maybe that I would die."

"You hid it well. I didn't even notice. I was the nervous one."

"You? Nervous?" she raised an eyebrow, placing her fork between her lips .

"Yeah, you were... well you are, like the prettiest girl I've ever met," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Didn't want to mess it up."

"Is that a joke? You did not... mess up. I like talking with you."

"I like talking with you too, Amélie"

~~

It was their fourth date and they were back at Amélie's apartment. Luke was sprawled out on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he playfully scrolled through one of Amélie's French-to-English learning apps.

"Come on, give me a word," Luke teased, turning to look at the girl sitting beside him with her legs tucked under her.

"Alright. Alright. Um... try... 'papillon.'"

Luke squinted, trying his hardest to translate it. "Papillon," he reapted slowly. "Uh... sounds like pasta, maybe? Wait, no, wait... um, balloon?"

She let a burst of laughter, learning back against the arm of the couch. "Non! It's butterfly!"

He groaned dramatically, throwing his head back in mock anguish. "Butterfly?! That doesn't even sound like butterfly! What?!"

"You are needing more practice," she giggled, comfortly placing a hand on his thigh.

Luke's eyes widened at her touch, but he couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, clearly I need a lot more practice. You might have to become my full-time tutor."

Amélie smiled, her fingers lingering on his thigh, sending a warmth through both of them. They'd been spending more and more time together, and things were less awkward, but still full of nervousness. The banter between them was easy, but there was an ever-growing tension gnawing at them both.

Luke reached for a throw pillow next to him, lightly tossing it at her. "Give me another one. I swear I'll get it this time."

She swatted the pillow away, but her focus had moved on from French. The space between them had slowly been shrinking and she had just noticed how close they were. She tilted her head, her eyes flickering up to meet Luke's. "I think... maybe you are better at other things than French."

Luke's grin faltered, his breath catching in his throat at her new tone. He glanced down at her hand still resting on his thigh, then back at her face, then back to her hand again. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

"Like... this."

Before he could question what she meant, she leaned in, her lips brushing his, testing the waters. The kiss was soft, hesitant, but the second their lips connected, everything they'd been holding back snapped into place.

Luke's hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened quickly, no longer hesitant, but instead filled with the feelings they'd been dancing around for weeks. Amélie sighed against his mouth, her hands sliding up to his chest, gripping his shirt in his fists. Luke groaned softly, the sound muffled by her lips.

Their kisses turned hungrier, more urgent, as the tension in the room built. Luke shifted, gently pushing Amélie back against the couch as he leaned over her, his body pressing against hers as their kisses grew sloppier. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and Luke's hands slid up to cradle her face, his thumb brushing her cheek as the kiss deepened.

Neither of them wanted to pull away, not wanting to be the first to end the kiss. Luke realized he couldn't hold his breath any longer. He gasped for air before kissing her again, harder this time, his lips moving with more urgency than before. Amélie let out a soft, breathless moan in reponse.

They pulled away again, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to catch their breath. Luke brushed a strand of her hair, that had gotten stuck between them, out of her face. His eyes were still half-closed as he whispered, "I've wanted to kiss you for so long."

Amélie smiled, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to fill her lungs with air. She looked up at him, her lips still tingling. "Me too. I... I did not expect it to feel... like that."

"Good or bad?"

"Good," she whispered, her fingers tracing the back of his neck before pulling him in again, her lips finding his once more. There was no hesitation this time, just unfiltered desire as they gave in to the kiss.

~~

"Where you goin'?" Jack asked, pausing his video game as he heard Luke head for the door. He turned around, noticing his brother wearing his Michigan backpack. "And why do you have a backpack?"

"Amélie's place. I'm spending the night."

"Damn, Lukey boy's finally getting laid."

"Shut up, Jack... there's no confirmation that that's what happening. She just asked if I wanted to sleep over."

Jack smirked, leaning back on the couch with a knowing look. "Uh-huh, sure. You don't pack a bag just to sleep over, bro."

Luke rolled his eyes, adjusting the straps of his bag. "It's not like that. We're just hanging out, maybe watching a movie or something."

Jack snorted. "Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, lover boy. But just in case, be safe."

"It's not like that," Luke groaned, grabbing his keys off the counter, trying to escape Jack's teasing.

"I'm just saying! Good luck, bud!"

Luke mumbled to himself as he stepped into the hallway, heading for the elevator to the parking garage. His heart was racing more than usual, not just because of Jack's teasing but because tonight did feel different. Spending a night together was a big step in their relationship, especially since they weren't officially official yet.

They hadn't even discussed labels yet, and although they were very close, there was an unspoken worry of figuring out where things were heading. Luke really, really liked her, but he didn't want to rush anything. If Amélie wanted to take things slow, then he would take things slow.

He sat in his car, getting ready to leave when his phone buzzed.

Just picked out a movie. Hope you like rom-coms ;)

Only if we watch it in French so I can practice

Deal.

When he pulled up to her building, he practically leaped out of the car, taking his backpack with him. He knocked on her door, his heart in his throat.

Just go with the flow. No pressure

Amélie giggled when she opened the front door, dressed in one of Luke's Devils hoodies and a pair of shorts he couldn't see from under the large sweatshirt.

"Hey. You look cute," he leaned down to kiss her.

"Hey! Missed you."

"It's only been three days," he laughed, allowing her to wrap her arms around his waist, propping her chin on his chest. "You ready for my horrible French?"

"Ready for anything," she giggled as he ran a hand through her hair.

They stood in the doorway for a few moments more, before she grasped his hand and pulled him into the living room. They settled on the couch, a blanket thrown over their entwined legs.

"Am, I've been thinking..." his thumb brushing lightly against her thigh. "I don't want to overthink it anymore than I already have, but... we've been spending lots of time together. And I really like you."

"I like you too, Luke. A lot."

"Good. Because... I want this to be official. I mean, us. I want us to be official. I don't wanna be just 'hanging out' or 'seeing where things go' anymore. I want you to be my girlfriend." His voice softened at the end, his heart out on a silver platter just for her.

"You really want that?" she gushed.

Luke nodded, "Yeah. I want you. I want... us."

"I want that too," she smiled, shuffling impossibly closer to him, pecking his lips.

Luke pulled her back in for a deeper kiss, relief flooding his body. When they pulled apart, Amélie rested her forehead against his, her fingers gripping the front of his hoodie.

"So, it is official?" she whispered.

"Officially official. You're my girlfriend now."

She kissed him again, laughing into his mouth. "Well... now that we have... figured that out. You have French to practice... boyfriend."

"Let's get started then, girlfriend."

~~

"So... when do I get to meet her?" Jack grinned, knocking Luke's shoulder.

"Oh, um, I can ask her."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You can ask her?" he teased. "What, you haven't mentioned me?"

Luke sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I have, Jack. I just... didn't think you'd be so excited."

"Dude, of course I'm excited! My little brother has a girlfriend now! And you know I've gotta approve, see if she's good for you. Duh."

"She's not a test subject, Jack. I'm not bringing her so you can interrogate her."

Jack snickered, loving how flustered his brother was getting. "Relax, I'll be nice. In fact, bring her out with us and the guys this weekend. Some of the other girlfriends will be there."

"I can ask her. Just... don't be weird about it. She get's nervous."

"Me? Weird about it? Never. I'm charming."

"That's what I'm worried about."

"Come on, it'll be fun. She'll get to meet everyone, and you know the guys will love her. Plus, if she can survive a night out with us, she's a keeper."

"Look, I'll ask. But I know she's been busy with schoolwork. I'll ask her tonight. But seriously, Jack, don't freak her out. Please."

"Scout's honour, man. I'll be on my best behaviour."

"You're not a-- never mind. I'll let you know what she says."

~~

Luke laid next to Amélie in her bed, his arm draped over her waist. She was scrolling through TikTok, laughing at French words he didn't know yet. He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder, peeking at the screen where some girl was speaking rapid French while doing her make up.

"Hey, Am."

"Hmm?"

"So... Jack and some of the guys are going out this weekend, and a few of the girlfriends will be there too," he paused, thinking over his next words. "Jack was, uh, wondering when he could meet you. He kind of suggested you come along."

She blinked, "Meet... all of your friends? This weekend?"

"No pressure! If you're too busy with school, I totally get it. I just thought it might be fun. Only if you want to, of course," Luke quickly added.

She bit her lip, thinking it over, and Luke could tell she was weighing her options. "I'm nervous. I would... like to meet Jack. To be... part of your world."

He pulled her body closer to his, pressing more kisses to her shoulder. "You're already part of my world, Am. And trust me, Jack's been bugging me about meeting you since our first date. He's... well, he's Jack. But he means well."

"Okay. I will come. But if Jack, he makes me feel awkward, you owe me a very good dinner."

Luke laughed, "Deal. And don't worry, I'll be there the whole time. Plus, survivng Jack means you can survive anything."

~~

"C'est très cute, non?" Amélie asked, showing her outfit off to Luke.

"You look like a millon bucks, baby," he replied, leaning down to kiss her.

"What?"

"It's... it's a saying."

She tilted her head slightly, repeating the words back to herself. "A million... bucks."

Luke thought her accent made it all the more adorable. "It means you look beautiful. Like super, super beautiful."

"English says, they are so strange. First you tell me it rains cats and dogs... now I look like I am money. You explain me all of these sometimes, yes?"

"Of course, baby. But I mean it, you looks amazing."

"Thanks, Lu. We should go?"

"If we have to," Luke pouted, leaning down to give her another kiss.

~~

Amélie gripped the straps of her purse so tightly that her knuckles were white. She had never felt so nervous in her life, not even on their first date. She had so many people to impress tonight and probably less than half the words they had in their vocabularies.

Luke was quick to notice her anxiety. She usually walked with so much confidence, but her posture was slumped and her lip was held between her teeth. "Hey, you okay?"

She nodded, but her choked voice betrayed her. "I... I don't know if I can do this."

"You'll be fine, Am," he whispered, brushing his thumb over her cheek. "Jack's going to love you, I can promise you that. And it's just a few of the guys--nothing big. And hey, some of them aren't even native English speakers themselves."

Her eyes were still full of uncertainty, her fingers busying themselves by picking at the skin around her nails. "But maybe I will say something wrong. Or they ask me things, and I do not understand them? Or they will all laugh at me."

"You've been doing so well with your English, love. And if you're ever feeling stuck, just squeeze my hand and I'll come to your rescue."

The bar was pretty empty for the most part, just a few tables of friends talking and sharing drinks. In the back corner, Jack was sitting with a few of the other guys and their better halves.

"There they are!" Jack cheered as soon as he saw them approaching, standing up to greet his brother as if he hadn't seen him in weeks. His tone was loud and confident, and Amélie could feel every set of eyes at the table move towards her and Luke.

Luke gave his brother a quick bro-hug before turning to his girlfriend. "Jack, this is Amélie. Am, this is my brother, Jack."

Amélie felt like all the moisture in her mouth had disappeared, her hand gripping Luke's with a vice-like strength. She opened her mouth to speak, but all her words got stuck. "I, uh, I... hi."

"Nice to meet you, Amélie," Jack said. "Luke's told me loads about you."

She gave him a tight lipped smile, her mind scrambling to find a response, but nothing came. She felt like the weight of everyone's expectations were holding her down. She wanted to wow everyone with perfect English, but all she could do was stand there, frozen.

"She, uh, she's a little nervous," Luke interjected. "Amélie's from Québec, she's here in Jersey to learn English. But her French is like the most impressive shit ever."

"No worries. We're just happy you're here," Nico spoke up.

Amélie forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. She sat down beside Luke, her hand still gripping his with immense force. The conversation around the table picked back up, but she remained quiet.

The guys were easygoing, laughing and joking with each other, and the other girlfriends seemed just as relaxed. The more they spoke though, the harder it became for her to follow. She could pick up on bits and pieces of what was going on, but she couldn't seem to form a complete sentence in her head.

"So, how do you like Jersey so far?" one of the other girlfriends, Lexi, asked with a warm smile.

"It... it's very different. But I... I like it," she replied, her eyes not leaving Luke's hand in her lap.

"She thinks back home is wayyyy prettier. Right, babe?" Luke helped to direct her.

"Yes. Québec is very beautiful."

"So what brought you here?" Jack asked, desperately wanting to know more about the girl that had stolen his brother's heart. "School?"

She bit her lip, trying her best to think of how to reply in English. "Yes... I.... study at Rutgers. Exchange."

"That's awesome. What're you studying?"

Her mind went completely blank. She'd even rehearsed answering that exact question, but now, with everyone looking at her, the words were gone. Her hand tightened around Luke's again, taking a sip of water to clear her throat.

"She's studying communications and media. But the point of her exchange is to work on her English skills."

"That's sick," Jack nodded along.

The conversation around her continued, a few questions being tossed her way but her responses were usually just a few words, the gaps being filled in by Luke. The group eventually moved on to a story that Nico was telling, and Amélie used the shift of attention to shrink into herself further. She let Luke rest his hand on her bouncing knee in an attempt to calm her nerves, but his touch felt foreign in the situation.

After what felt like hours, but had most likely only been half an hour, she leaned close to Luke, whispering in his ear. "Je vais aux toilettes." She stood up before he could respond, scurrying off to the bathroom.

Jack shot Luke a curious glance, but he just shrugged, trying to mask his own worry.

Amélie slipped into the bathroom, pressing her hands against the sink as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She felt like she was suffocating, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She hated feeling like an outsider, not being able to connect with Luke's world outside of her.

She wiped under her eyes, praying that her mascara didn't run. She didn't want anyone to know she'd been crying in the bathroom. She just wanted to be like the other girls at the table--relaxed and confident, going with the flow of the conversation.

With one last deep breath, she made her way back to the table. Luke looked up at her as she approached. He could tell something was off.

"Everything okay?"

She just nodded, falling back into her silence at the table. She laughed when everyone else laughed, smiling politely when someone made a remark towards her. Luke had never seen her so quiet in his life, not even on the first day that they met. By the time everyone had left the bar, her anxiety was so bad she thought she might puke.

Luke opened the car door for her, and she slid in, staring blankly out the window. The silence between them was heavy. Luke could feel it too, his fingers tapping nervously on the steering wheel.

"Am, what's wrong? You've been quiet all night. You barely said a thing."

The tears that she had been fighting so hard to keep at bay finally spilled out. "I... I feel so stupid. I-I couldn't even talk to them. I couldn't even... act normal."

He reached out, placing a hand on her thigh. His heart clenched at her words. "You're not stupid, Am. You're doing amazing. You're learning a whole new language, that's huge."

"But I had to have you help on everything. I could... not even answer Jack's questions. They normally think... I'm dumb. Not good for you." She wiped at her eyes, frustrated with herself for crying.

"Amélie, baby. No one thinks you're dumb. And you are more than good enough for me--don't you ever doubt that. Jack loved meeting you. Everyone did. I could tell. They don't care if you need some help speaking English. Hell, some of those guys could use the help speaking English."

"I wanted... to be better. To show I can do this. But I feel...lost."

"You don't have to show anyone that you can do anything. Not to me, not to Jack, not to anyone. I love you for--"

"You love me?"

"Of course I do, Am. I... I didn't want to admit it like this. But... I am so in love with you, Amélie."

"I love you too, Luke. Sorry if I... embarrass you tonight."

"You could never embarrass me, Am. Never ever."

"I-"

"Nope, that's enough out of you. Let's go back to yours and watch that stupid cop show you like."

"Mensonges?"

"If that's what it's called, then yes."

"I love you, Lu."

"I love you too, Am."

~~

"I don't know, Jack. She was so nervous last time..."

"But last time there were other people there too. Just tell her you've got the place to yourself for the night and then I'll walk in a couple hours later and be like 'Oh! Sorry, my plans got cancelled.' And then we can all hangout," Jack suggested.

"I'm not going to lie to her. I'll just ask if she wants to spend the night."

"Come on, Rusty! You know I'm just trying to help her relax around me. You're making it sound like a big deal. It's not! She's your girlfriend, and I want to get to know her. Plus, I'll make it fun! I'm good with people."

"I appreciate the thought, Jack. But I want her to feel comfortable, not tricked. So I'll just ask her if she wants to come over and spend the night. No tricks."

"Fine, fine. Let me know what she says."

"I will. Just... don't be an idiot."

~~

Amélie followed Luke into his apartment, her backpack thrown over his shoulder. She looked around, noticing how painfully obvious it was that two men lived there.

"I'm just gonna put your bag in my room. You wanna go make yourself comfortable on the couch?"

"Sure."

She sat down, curling her legs under herself, glancing around the living room. She picked up the remote off the coffee table, fiddling with while she waited for Luke.

"You good?"

"Yeah. Just... taking in. It is very... you."

"What, you mean messy?"

She giggled, then tension in her shoulders disappearing. "Maybe... un peu."

"Hey, it's organized chaos, baby. I know where everything is. Well... most of the time."

"I like it. Feels... comfortable. Like you."

"That's all I want, babe. For you to be comfortable."

"Where's Jack?"

"Probably in his room. Why? Wanna talk with him?"

Amélie quickly shook her head, her eyes widening. "No, no... just wonder. I don't want to... bother him."

"You're not bothering him. He's probably playing video games or doing some stupid shit. He'll come out here eventually."

The last time she'd been around Jack, she hadn't been able to shake her nerves. Tonight, she was determined to make a better impression, even if she still felt like puking.

Luke gently nudged her with his elbow. "Hey, you're good, Am. Jack's chill. You don't have to be nervous."

"I know... just... want him to like me."

"He already likes you," Luke reassured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "He wouldn't shut up about how cool you were after the last time."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. I wouldn't lie to you, silly."

"Love you, Lu."

"Love you too," he leaned in to kiss her when footsteps pulled them apart.

"Aww, did I interrupt a moment?" Jack's teasing voice came from the doorway.

"Relax, Jack. We were just talking... about you."

"Oh yeah?" Jack pushed himself off the wall, making his way to the couch. "All good things, I hope."

"Duh," Luke squeezed Amélie's hand, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder. "Amélie was just asking what you were up to."

"Probably nothing interesting compared to you lovebirds. Was talking to Trevor--can't let Luke get ahead of me in the whole having a life department."

She tried to think of a quick response to his joke, but came up with nothing she deemed funny enough.

"Luke tells me you like studying here cause it's different. How so?"

"Um, everything... is feeling bigger here. The city, the campus. And obviously... English. There is like... zero English in my town. We use some words... but not lots."

"Well, seems like you're doing great. Don't stress it. Plus you've got this guy," he gestured to Luke, "to help you out, right?"

She blushed, "Yes, Lu is... super."

Luke grinned, leaning in and whispering, "Told you he likes you."

~~

"I don't know how I'm gonna survive without you, Am," Luke admitted, wiping the tears from his face. His usually calm, relaxed demeanor was gone, replaced with a raw vulnerability.

Amélie had told herself she wasn't going to cry, but seeing Luke cry made that impossible. Her tears had started as soon as his had. "You will, Lu. You are so strong. And... I will not be gone forever."

He shook his head, intertwining their fingers. "I know, but... shit's gonna feel so different without you here. I'm used to having you here all the time. And now I won't see you until summer. I don't know how to do that."

"You'll have Jack, the guys, your family. I'm just... a plane away. We will FaceTime, and before you know... I am back. And I will meet Quinn... and your parents."

Luke rested his head in her lap, letting her run her fingers through his hair. She could feel his tears soaking the fabric of her jeans. "I'm gonna miss you so fucking much, Am."

"I'll miss you too, Lu. So, so much."

They stayed like that for a long time, just wrapped in each other's embraces. Neither of them wanted to let go. Neither of them wanted to admit how hard the next few months would be. They just wanted to stay together... forever.

~~

Amélie was sitting at her desk, her phone propped up against her water bottle as Luke's face filled the screen. His hair was a mess and his eyes drooping. She could tell he had just gotten home from practice.

"Hey, beautiful," he greeted.

"Hey, you," she replied, resting her chin on her hand. "How was practice?"

"Exhausting," he groaned. "But seeing your face makes it better."

Amélie blushed, biting her lip as she smiled. Before she could respond, she heard her brothers' voices coming from down the hall.

"Ah, c'est qui, Amélie?" (who is it, Amélie?)

"Son chum?" the other laughed. (her boyfriend?)

"Ahhh, mais Luke, t'es ben chix." (Ahhh, but Luke, you're so hot.)

"Ferme ta gueule!" Amélie shouted. (Shut your mouth!)

Luke burst out laughing at the look on his girlfriend's face. "What're they saying?"

She huffed, rolling her eyes. "They're being idiots. Teasing me about you."

"Teasing, huh?" He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "What did they say? Come on, tell me."

She sighed, getting closer to the camera with a small smirk. "They said you're... how would that translate.... that you're 'hot.'"

"Oh, did they know? You must have good pictures of me hanging up then, huh?"

"They're just being annoying. They think it's funny to tease me because I love an American."

"Well, tell them I appreciate the compliment. And tell them I say 'hi'," he teased.

Amélie shook her head but shouted, "Luke dit bonjour!"

From the hallway, her brothers responded with exaggerated greetings in their broken English, making the couple laugh.

"They're something else, huh? I can't wait to meet them one day."

"They'll probably want you to ask Cole for free Habs tickets. But... in a few weeks, I'll be back and I'll get to meet all of your family."

Luke's eye lit up at the thought. "I know! I've been counting down the days, baby. I can't wait for you to be here again!"

"Me neither. Excited to meet Quinn and your parents."

"Yeah, my mom's super excited to meet you!"

"I'm a little nervous though."

"Don't be! They are gonna love you so much, Am!"

"I love you, Lu."

"I love you more, Amélie. Only a few more weeks, then we'll be together again. I can't wait."

"You promise?"

"I promise. And I'm gonna spoil you so much. Just you, me, and the lake."

"Can't wait."

[camilledlc]

Can we talk about the fact that Deadpool is supposed to be one of the strongest character in the entire Marvel Universe?

Cause yes, for those who may not know, Wade is canonically one of the strongest character in the Marvel Universe. And why is that? Well, it is due to two things : being incredibly good at fighting, and always regenerating.

The first one seems obvious as to why that would make him extremely strong. He knows all about fighting techniques, has military experience and training, has been an accomplished mercenary for years, etc. He knows how fight. Besides, he knows multiple combat techniques and can easily switch between them, making him even more threatening.

And while the second point may seem obvious as to why it's an advantage, it is far more valuable to him than you can expect. The first advantage is obviously that he can't die. And can't be seriously injured. So he's basically unbeatable. Yeah, that's kind of a big advantage.

But it also includes other physical advantages. For example, it grants him a strength that is far superior to other people's strength. It's the same for stamina, balance, flexibility, dexterity, body control, speed, etc. That man knows how to fight, can't die, can't get severely and irreversibly injured, and he's enhanced?

And that's not all, there's more! Because of his regenerating factors, he can't be possessed of mind-controlled. Since his cells are constantly changing by dying and being renewed, his soul and mind are too inconsistent to be controlled. You can still attack him psychically, but it is extremely difficult to read his mind--even for a trained mind-reader--because of how messy and moving it is. Since it's so messy, it often confuses the mind-reader more than it helps them. Getting the right information out of his brain is near-impossible. A version of Charles Xavier even died upon entering his mind, if I'm not mistaken (I can be wrong about that, let me know if so!).

And because he's literally the best, there is still another advantage! Since his brain is so messy and constantly moving, changing, he is quite unpredictable. His opponents have an extremely hard time figuring him out, not helping by the fact that he acts dumber than he actually is. Trying to fight someone who is this good at fighting and always finds the move you didn't expect to come is quite difficult. And because he isn't just unpredictable to others but also to himself, there's no way of knowing for sure what he'll do next. If an enemy think they have figured out how he fights and what will be his strategy, he's gonna completely change it on a whim, and he himself won't see it coming!

So yeah, definitely one of the most skilled character in the entire Marvel Universe, and seeing him in an Avengers movie would be so fun.

(Also, this is very specific to Deadpool and Wolverine, but can we talk about how Cassandra Nova could somehow easily enter his brain, find the right memory and change it? So, either she is way better than what we thought, or Wade was doing particularly bad during this movie, maybe due to him just being out a slump/still feeling depressed and so his mind his less sharp than usual. What do you think?)

[muwapsturniolo]

⋆.˚ 𝐈'𝐦 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ⋆.˚

IN WHICH...a wallflower finds solace in her life thanks to a boy who gives her the will to live

WARNINGS...mentions of suicide and suicidal thoughts! depressive thoughts, alcohol, weed, IF I FORGOT ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW

BTW, the series playlist is linked in the title!

THIS SERIES IS NOT IN ANY WAY, SHAPE , OR FORM TRYING TO ROMANTICIZE DEPRESSION OR SUICIDE! THIS IS SIMPLY A FIC THAT IS SUPPOSED TO SHOW THE STRUGGLES OF MENTAL HEALTH AND HOW SOMETIMES WE JUST NEED TO FEEL LIKE WE BELONG TO FEEL BETTER! IF YOU SUFFER WITH ANY TYPE OF MENTAL HEALTH STRUGGLE, PLEASE REACH OUT FOR HELP! AT THE END OF EACH CHAPTER I WILL PROVIDE A PHONE NUMBER FOR THE SUICIDE HOTLINE!

Matilda.

A movie about a young girl who was ignored at times by her family, or simply just treated horribly for existing.

She related to that.

From a young age she was ignored by her parents, the adults constantly forgetting they even had a child to tend and take care of.

They would leave her home alone without even mumbling a goodbye, they wouldn't even leave a note. The birthdays she wished to celebrate every year were forgotten, the holidays she would see being celebrated on TV in grand and dramatic ways were never like that for her.

She thought it would be different at school.

She'd seen the TV shows of kids having big groups of friends, having nice and welcoming teachers, and having fun.

She was wrong.

In elementary school she was bullied, the kids making fun of her hair and clothes. They made fun of the fact she was soft-spoken and always reading the 'Magic Tree House' books. Her teachers never did anything about it, and she didn't want them to.

She would take bullying over being ignored any day.

Then, middle school happened.

The bullying had stopped, but not because the kids felt bad, they grew tired of her. They treated her like she was a nuisance making their lives unbearable. To make it worse, her teachers felt the same way. She would raise her hand to answer a question, and the teacher would roll their eyes while her classmates would mock her and call her a 'suck up' or 'annoying". Her peers would bump into her in the hallways and yell in her face to move.

A vivid memory of hers was when she bumped into Lacey Sanders in the lunchroom, spilling her lunch all over her brand-new white top. Lacey lost it, she pushed the girl to the floor, screaming in her face that she was a waste of space and should have never been born.

It was embarrassing.

So embarrassing that she raced out of the lunchroom and straight to the bathroom where she had her first panic attack.

She began to believe the callous words and actions around her.

Maybe she was annoying, maybe she was a suck-up, maybe she shouldn't have been born...

It seemed as the school year went on and people began to forget the lunchroom incident, they began to forget about her too.

High school soon came along, and that's when she realized how invisible she truly was.

No one would give her dirty looks anymore, they would bump into her in the hallways and continue to walk as if she were an inanimate object. Her teachers would either mark her absent or not even call her name during attendance.

It's like she didn't exist.

She blended into the crowd, but she wasn't a part of the crowd,

She was an empty shell, a ghost begging, screaming, pleading to be noticed,

Just like she's doing now.

It was a cold December night in Boston, a few days before Christmas. The streetlights illuminate the icy roads, showcasing the flurries of snow flying around. The streets were basically empty, the majority wanting to escape the cold, but not her.

She loved the cold.

She loved the way the crisp air pierced her skin, numbing her fingers and toes. She loved how when she breathed out, she could see the carbon dioxide, showing that she was in fact there and alive much to her dismay and others.

Her hands grip the cold railing tightly, her palms burning from the frost coating the metal. The murky water below was currently sloshing against the rocks violently, the noise so loud yet calming at the same time.

She couldn't help but wonder if her end would be the same,

Violent and loud, yet calming.

She takes a shakey breath and looks away from the water, looking behind her and watching as a few people walk by...Ignoring her.

They were dressed in their winter attire, laughing and talking about the holidays to come and how excited they were to spend time with family. They weren't worried about the 17-year-old girl on the bridge.

Why would they worry?

As much as she wanted someone to notice her, to stop her from ending it all and tell her it's ok, she knew they wouldn't

They don't care.

"They don't care," she murmurs to herself.

Her eyes began to burn, she wasn't sure if it was the cold air or the tears forming in her eyes, but she didn't care...Not anymore. She closes her eyes and faces forward once more, the noise around her beginning to soften as the rushing water grows louder in her ears. Her grip on the railing began to loosen, a faint smile gracing her face.

This is it.

She's finally going to be at peace.

Just as she begins to let go, a hand firmly grabs her shoulder and yanks her backward, her back hitting the railings harshly. Her eyes snap open and she whips her head around, coming face to face with a boy who looks out of breath. 

His eyes are wide and filled with genuine fear, but he has a smile on his face.

“Come to a party with me!”

She blinks in confusion, not sure if she heard him correctly. "w-what?"

" Come to a party with me. It's not a huge party really. It's just me, my brothers, and a few friends in Nate's basement. We're going to watch Christmas movies, play games, drink, smoke..."

Despite the tension in the air and his body, the boy keeps a smile on his face, begging internally for the girl to agree.

"You don't even know me..."

"Well I want to..."

He wants to know her.

Someone wants to know her.

Her grip on the railing tightens once more as she begins to feel conflicted. She wanted to end it, she was tired of hurting in silence, yet here he was, a stranger, inviting her to a party.

Was this the universe finally answering her wishes, or was she already dead and in her own version of heaven?

"Come on, it will be fun...We have pizza."

He was warm and inviting, the cheesy smile on his face and the crinkle by his eyes proving that much. It was a nice change compared to the coldness she felt in her life.

She hesitantly nods to his invitation, the action accruing before she even realizes she's doing it. He quickly drops his bags to the ground and yanks her over the railing, holding her close as he mutters a 'Thank God' to himself once he realizes she's now safe.

Once she's steady, she pulls away from him and looks away awkwardly, her nails digging into her palms.

He wants to confront her, tell her what she planned on doing was stupid and she would regret it, but he didn't.

He couldn't.

She didn't need a lecture right now, she needed a friend.

Noticing she's just in a flannel and sweatpants, he quickly takes off his jacket and throws it over her shoulders, "S'freezin kid, should have worn a jacket in this weather...Come on, let's head to Nates. It's not that far." He grabs her hand without a care in the world, grabbing his dropped bags in the other, and leading the way.

The walk to Nates is quiet for the most part, the only sound coming from the plastic bags and their feet crunching against the snow. She was lost deep in thought, her mind buzzing with the events within the past few minutes.

She's pulled out of her thoughts by the boy speaking, "I think I've seen you around school, I say I think 'cause I'm rarely there...What's y'name kid?"

He noticed her around school? She actually stood out for someone to notice her?

"Y/n..." She answers softly. He hums in response and gives her a big smile, "Well, I'm Chris. S'nice to meet you Y/n."

They soon make it to Nate's house and Chris waltzes right in, stomping his feet on the matt to get rid of the snow before kicking the boots off. "Come on, everyone's in the basement." He motions to the basement door, already walking towards it.

Y/n hesitantly follows, this was all new to her.

She's never been invited to parties or asked to hang out.

As Chris opens the basement door, she hears the sound of laughter and shouting.

"You cheated!"

"How the hell do you cheat in Candyland you dumb fuc-I'm back!" Chris's announcement of his arrival causes the group of four to look at the two teens standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"And you brought a stranger?" A boy who looks just like Chris asks, looking Y/n up and down.

She feels her face grow warm as the boy calls her a stranger, he wasn't lying though, she was a stranger. Chris rolls his eyes and drops the bag on the table before slapping the boy upside the head. "Shut the hell up Nick, Y/n's not a stranger... She's a friend."

She feels her heart skip a beat at his words.

Friends...She was a friend.

Chris plops down on the couch, immediately man-spreading and crossing his arms. Meanwhile, Y/n stands by the stairs awkwardly still wrapped in Chris's jacket. Chris notices and pats the spot next to him, urging her to sit down.

She shuffles over, her movements unsure as she sits down next to him.

She expected the group to jump back into what they were doing, to completely disregard her existence - that wasn't the case. They immediately begin to talk to her, asking all types of questions to get to know her better. It was different, it was scary, it was overwhelming, but she found herself relaxing in the warm atmosphere of the basement.

Despite Nick's hesitancy towards her earlier, everyone was so welcoming. They treated her like they had known her for years, like they grew up with her. It was comforting, for once in her life she felt like she belonged, like she was actually alive.

It was refreshing.

"S-so do you guys always hang down here?" She asks as she looks around the basement. It looked like the basement of an early 2-thousands teen movie. Posters of different bands and TV shows were thrown on the wall, the colorful Christmas lights were strung along the ceilings creating a serene atmosphere. There was a huge tv mounted on the wall - gaming systems on the stand below. Two couches, a recliner, and bean bags of different colors were scattered about.

"Yeah, my mom doesn't want us messing up her nice couches and she says we are too loud, so she and my dad let us use the basement as our hangout spot," Nate states as he sets the bong down on the table, Alahna immediately taking it. "A-and they let you guys smoke-" her eyes dart over to the alcohol in Nick's hand, "And drink?"

"Better here rather than out somewhere getting hurt....Are your parents really strict or something?"

The question makes her wonder, were her parents strict? They were never around or paid any attention to her for them to be. She could have been causing all types of trouble and doing god knows what without any type of repercussion, yet she never did

She gives a brief smile, "N-not really... I've just never done any of that stuff...." The group looks at her in shock. How could someone in their grade never dabble in any of these activities? "Well, that is going to change! Take your pick, what drink do you want?"

"Or do you want to smoke?"

The group begins to debate on what the girl should do first, two of them leaning towards drinking while the other two claim an edible would be better. Meanwhile, Chris is doing neither. His eyes land on the girl who looks frightened by the idea of ingesting any type of paraphernalia.

"Hey-" his hand finds its place on her knee, giving comfort. "You know you don't have to do anything if you don't want to right? Don't let them pressure you."

Conflicted feelings swarm in her mind. On one hand she's not completely keen on the idea of being intoxicated, worried about what she will say and or do while not being in the right state of mind. What if they find her weird, or they make her the butt end of a joke? However on the other hand, she wants to fit in, she wants them to like her, and she wants to belong.

"I-is there anything not...Strong?" She asks timidly. Chris nods and grabs an unopened can of Twisted Tea. "It's tea with vodka. Taste kind of funky but I like it." She examines the big can, a look of nervousness still on her face. " We could share if you want? I doubt you will drink the whole thing." He was mainly offering out of concern, he knew the drink wasn't strong, but he didn't want the girl throwing up everywhere because she couldn't handle alcohol.

“T-that sounds nice….” Chris nods and cracks open the can, handing it to her for the first sip. She takes it once again, smelling the liquid before taking a hesitant sip. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good either. She shivers as she swallows, smacking her lips as the taste settles in her mouth. Chris laughs as she hands the can back to him, taking his own swig of the spiked tea.

“Alcohol virginity has been semi-taken! We’ll save the weed for a birthday or something,” Alahna cheers, the whole group joining in.

The night is a whirlwind of endless activities ranging from Just Dance, board games, Heads up, the girl learning how to play Fortnite, and karaoke.

Y/n was having fun. For the first time in her life, she wasn’t sad, she was happy. Even if it was a temporary happiness, she spent her whole life worrying, it wouldn't hurt her to live and enjoy her life for one night.

The night soon ends and everyone is getting ready to leave, “We can drive you home. S’pretty late and I uhh... I don't want you walking alone..." It was obvious Chris was worried, scared she would find her way to the bridge once more and disappear. He knew he couldn't do much to make whatever she was going through better, but he sure as hell was going to try.

"It's fine, I can wa-'' As she tries to turn down the offer of a ride, not wanting to be a burden, Chris turns to Matt - "You good with driving her home? She doesn't live far."

Matt's eyes drift over to the girl who is smiling awkwardly, shrugging his shoulder and grabbing his keys, "Yeah, let's go. "

After saying their goodbyes to Nate, Alahna, and Nate's family, the four pile into the black van. Y/n climbs into the car, sitting next to Nick in the backseat as Chris and Matt remain upfront. Matt suddenly hands her his phone, Google Maps opened- a clear sign to enter her address. She does so, handing him back the phone quietly. “ You live next door to us?” Matt questions as he puts the car in reverse, the tires crunching against the snow.

"I-I do?" She questions. She had never noticed the three boys - it's obvious they hadn't noticed her either. The car ride to their respective homes is pretty quiet, a song from Chris's playlist playing softly as the two boys upfront hold a whispered conversation. Nick was busy sleeping, all the alcohol finally catching up to him. Y/n looks out the window, her eyes focused on the blurry imagery passing her by.

It wasn't long before Matt pulled into their driveway - everyone piling out of the car and ready to go to bed. "You guys head inside, I'm going to walk her to her house." Chris moves toward Y/n, his hand resting on her back. Matt eyes the gesture and says nothing, grabbing a half-asleep Nick and walking him inside.

"Y-you didn't have to walk me back...."

"I want to...Come on."

The two begin the small walk toward the white house - silence being the conversation between the two.

"Well...This is you," Chris states as they arrive in front of the brown door. he shoves his hands into his pockets, his feet kicking at the snow on the ground. "Y-yeah..." Her hand rests on the doorknob, her eyes looking over Chris as she tries to figure out what to say next.

"Did you have- Thanks for," Soft laughter falls from both of them as they talk over each other, Chris running a hand through his hair as Y/n wraps her arms around herself. "You go ahead, what were you going to say?"

"I-I was going to say thanks...I-I needed this tonight." Chris smiles softly at her, the two coming to a mutual understanding of what she really means.

"S'no problem...Hopefully I- We get to see you more." The thought of this friend group - a group that has been friends forever, wanting to hang out with her again, fills her with excitement. She tries to hold back her giddiness, a Cheshire smile wanting to make its way onto her face. Chris notices it but decides not to say anything, not wanting to embarrass the girl.

"Well, I should head back. I'll see you soon alright?" She nods and watches as Chris walks back to his own home, their eyes meeting briefly before he goes inside. She smiles to herself and rushes inside, nothing but pure joy in her system.

It's not long before she's showered and laid in bed, her eyes trained on the ceiling covered in stars. She was thinking about her night, how it started off so shitty, and ended up being the best night of her life. She was seen, she was laughed with and not at, she felt like she belonged.

She turns on her side, pulling the blankets closer, a smile on her face.

Maybe things are getting better, her wishes being granted.

She could only hope it stays that way.

As she falls asleep, she fails to notice a body climbing out of a window next door, situating itself onto the roof. The person lights a cigarette between their lips, letting the mix of cancer and cold air enter their lungs. They take a big swig from the vodka bottle in their hand, the alcohol burning their throat. They stare off into the empty street, their eyes void of all emotion as they wonder-

What went wrong?

I hope you all like this. i did my best to articulate the words and feelings i have experienced into this. i want all of you to know you are loved, you're seen, and you're not alone! if any of you are struggling mentally i want you to know you're so strong and I'm proud of you for making it this far.

i believe this is a nationwide site that you can use to call and or text when it comes to mental health. if it is wrong, please let me know!

[awkward-walking-potato]

I do hope you’re still doing Wolverine requests!

if so, mayhaps I request a Logan x mutant!gn!reader where the reader is much older than Logan (and has more experience of history than he does), and Logan likes to ask questions (asking if they’re comfortable with it at first since he doesn’t want to bring up some unpleasant memories) about things that happened before he was even alive? I’d like that, but if not then that’s alright!

Echoes of Time

The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the cabin’s cozy interior. Logan leaned back in his chair, a glass of whiskey resting on his knee, his eyes flicking between the flames and you, sitting across from him. The quiet moments between missions, when it was just the two of you, always seemed to settle something deep in his chest.

You sat comfortably, your gaze distant but serene, as though you were caught somewhere between the present and the distant past. And Logan knew that, in some ways, you were. After all, you had been alive for far longer than him. Decades, maybe even centuries — your experiences far surpassed his, both in length and in breadth.

It was something that had always fascinated him. Even with his extensive, albeit fragmented, memories of the past century, Logan felt like a child when it came to the sheer scope of your experience. Yet, despite your age and wisdom, you had always been patient with him, never treating him as though he were lacking in some way.

Tonight, though, something stirred in Logan’s mind. He took a slow sip of his whiskey, glancing at you once more before speaking up, his voice soft, almost tentative.

"Can I ask you something, darlin'?"

You blinked, your gaze snapping back to the present as you looked at him. "Of course, Logan. What’s on your mind?"

He hesitated for a moment, not wanting to tread on sensitive ground, but his curiosity was strong. "I was just wonderin'... if you're comfortable with it, could you tell me about… y’know, things from before? Stuff that happened long before I was around."

Your expression softened, and you could see the careful way he chose his words. Logan had always been considerate about your past, understanding that someone with your history might have painful memories. But at the same time, he couldn’t help his fascination with the things you had seen, the world you had lived through before he was even born.

"I don't want to bring up anything unpleasant," he added quickly, his gruff voice tinged with concern. "But if you're alright with it, I just... I like hearin’ your stories. Helps me understand things better. Understand you better."

You smiled, a warmth spreading in your chest at his sincerity. "You don’t have to worry, Logan. I don’t mind talking about the past. Some parts of it were hard, sure, but others… others were beautiful."

Logan nodded, setting his glass down on the table beside him as he leaned forward, his full attention on you. "What was it like, back then? The world, before all this madness with wars, and mutants, and everything?"

You paused, gathering your thoughts as you sifted through centuries of memories. "It wasn’t always easy. The world was harsher in some ways, and simpler in others. People were the same, though — always struggling, always dreaming. I saw empires rise and fall, entire civilizations come and go."

Logan’s eyes narrowed in curiosity. "Did you ever get caught up in all that? The wars and the politics?"

You chuckled softly. "It was hard not to, sometimes. But I tried to keep my distance when I could. I learned early on that being a part of human conflicts rarely ended well for someone like me."

Logan grunted in understanding, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, I get that."

There was a pause, the firelight flickering across the room as Logan studied you, the weight of your words sinking in. He was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Did you ever meet anyone… famous? You know, like historical figures?"

You smiled at the question, your mind drifting back to encounters long past. "A few. Some of them weren’t as impressive as the history books make them out to be. But there were a handful who were truly remarkable — people who made you believe in change, even when it seemed impossible."

Logan nodded thoughtfully, processing everything you said. His hand absentmindedly scratched the back of his neck as he continued. "I imagine you saw a lot of good people come and go. That must’ve been tough."

You exhaled softly, the sadness of those memories weighing on your chest. "It was. Losing people is never easy, no matter how much time passes. But I try to hold onto the good memories, the ones that make it all worth it."

Logan’s eyes softened as he watched you, sensing the deep emotions you carried. He reached out, taking your hand in his, the roughness of his touch gentle, grounding. "You’re a tough one, you know that?"

You smiled, giving his hand a squeeze. "I’ve had to be."

Logan studied your face for a moment, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. "Must’ve been lonely, though. Goin’ through all that on your own."

"It was," you admitted softly. "But it’s different now."

Logan’s gaze held yours, a silent understanding passing between you. He knew what you meant — that in this moment, with him, you weren’t alone. And the weight of the past, while still present, didn’t feel quite as heavy anymore.

He let out a slow breath, leaning closer. "I’m glad you’re here with me now. I’ve seen a lot, too, but not like you. It’s... comforting, y’know? Knowing I’m not the only one with a messed-up past."

You chuckled lightly, appreciating the way he could make even the darkest subjects feel lighter. "We’ve both got our scars, Logan."

He smirked at that, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Yeah, but I like yours better."

You rolled your eyes at his playful tone, but your heart warmed at the affection behind it. Despite all his rough edges, Logan had a way of making you feel seen, valued, even with all your history.

Logan shifted in his chair, his voice turning more serious again. "You think about the future much? Or does the past keep you too busy?"

You thought for a moment before answering. "I used to dwell on the past more, but lately… I’ve been thinking about the future. There’s still so much to see, so much to experience. And it’s easier to look ahead when you have someone to share it with."

Logan’s lips quirked into a soft smile, his thumb still tracing patterns on your hand. "Glad I could be that someone."

The fire crackled quietly between you, the warmth of it wrapping around the two of you as you sat in comfortable silence. Logan, despite his hardened exterior and often gruff demeanor, had a deep respect for you — for the life you had lived, and the strength it took to carry all those memories with you.

He broke the silence one last time, his voice quieter now, as if the weight of the question had only just dawned on him. "Do you ever regret it? Livin’ that long, seeing everything?"

You looked at him, his question hanging in the air for a moment. Then, with a soft smile, you shook your head. "Not anymore. Not since I met you."

Logan’s smile widened slightly, his eyes softening in a way they rarely did. He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his rough hands cradling the sides of your face. "Good," he whispered. "’Cause I ain’t lettin’ you go."

And in that moment, as you leaned into his touch, the weight of centuries seemed a little lighter. The past would always be there, but with Logan by your side, the future seemed brighter than it had in a long time.

[tokkiwrites]

𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄.

summary: You work at a rundown bar, where the crowd is full of shady figures you’d rather avoid. Most nights, you keep to yourself, focusing on the drinks. But there’s one customer you can’t ignore: a handsome, older man who comes in every day, always ordering the same thing. And it seems he can't overlook you either.

tags: oldman!logan, hefty age gap but mentioned twice (logan is literally 100 and some), mutual feelings but no communication (for most of it), jealousy, violence, mention of blood, assault on reader (by drunk patrons), mention of wounds (reader cleans logan up), kind of angst idk, logan calls reader 'doll' & 'angel', no description of reader (reader is able bodied & and logan can pick reader up but he's like a mutant so yk), reader doesn't know about Logan’s powers, p in v (unprotected), afab!reader, fools in love [let me know if i missed anything!]

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ wowza! i was gone and came back with a new obsession, OLD.MAN.LOGAN. mhm. this doesn't have sm nsfw stuff, but it has 4.2k words sooo yeah. ENJOY. Also, not beta read, so sorry !! love ya !!

The bar wasn’t much to look at. Dim lighting, peeling paint, and booths that had seen better days. It was the kind of place people wandered into when they didn’t want to be found or when they had nowhere else to go. You’d learned not to ask questions. The regulars didn’t expect conversation, just a steady stream of drinks to numb the rough edges of their lives.

You’d been working here long enough to recognize the different kinds of silence people carried. Some were heavy with anger, others with regret.

But his silence was different.

He’d come in every night, just as the sun sank beneath the horizon, the neon sign in the window flickering weakly. Always the same seat, always the same drink — a glass of whiskey, neat, then more as the night wore on. He never looked around, never talked to anyone, just sat there, brooding under the low light. But his eyesㅡ they had a way of finding you.

At first, it was just a glance here or there, easy enough to dismiss. But as the nights passed, you could feel his gaze linger, like he was waiting for something. Or maybe it was you who was waiting. You never talked. You barely even made eye contact when you set his glass down. But somehow, in the quiet, you understood each other. Like you were both drawn to the same place for reasons neither of you would say.

Day after day, it was the same routine. He’d walk in, nod slightly at you — never a word — and you’d pour his drink without being asked. There was something comforting in the rhythm of it. Something unspoken. the silence that both of you created.

Sometimes, you’d catch him watching the bar, his brow furrowed in thought, but when your eyes met, he’d turn away, like there was something he wasn’t ready to admit. Still, he came back. Every night. And every night, it was the same: the weight of what wasn’t said hung between you like cigarette smoke in the stale air.

The crowd didn’t notice. They never did. They were too wrapped up in their own noise, their own shadows. But in the quiet moments — the pauses between pouring drinks and wiping down the bar — there was him. And there was you.

Time passed like that. Silent, heavy, and slow. Days blending into nights, and nights blending into the weight of his presence at the corner of the bar. Neither of you said a word, but somehow, you both knew there was more.

Maybe it wasn’t meant to be spoken. Maybe it didn’t need to be. But you couldn’t deny it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

The bar’s usual hum was interrupted by a loud group of men who barged in with a boisterous energy that filled the dim space. After a few drinks, their laughter was more intrusive, their voices carrying a raucous edge that unsettled most, if not all, patrons present. You took a deep breath, focusing on your steps as you approached their table again with a polite, strained smile.

“Can I get you anything else?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light despite the tension. “Yeah, sweetheart, another round,” the burly man at the center of the group said, leaning forward with a smirk that curled up almost to his eyes. “And make it quick.”

You nodded, turning on your heel to fetch their drinks. As you passed by, one of the men reached out and grabbed your thigh roughly. The touch was invasive, and you flinched, your face briefly contorting with discomfort before you masked it with a professional smile. “Please, just let me know if you need anything,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. The man’s friends laughed, their eyes following you with lewd interest. “Hey, don’t be so uptight, princess” one with a red hat on called out. “Why don’t you come sit with us?”

You could feel the weight of their gazes as you moved around the bar, pouring drinks and clearing empty glasses. The men’s comments grew increasingly crude, their remarks about you becoming more suggestive with every passing minute. “You know, if you weren’t such a stuck-up bitch, maybe you’d actually enjoy some company,” another man said with a drunken grin. “Why don’t you come over here and have a drink with us? We promise we don't bite. unless you want us to."

You forced yourself to maintain your composure, slipping away to tend to other customers whenever possible. The discomfort was evident in the stiffness of your movements and the tightness in your voice as you continued to interact with them. “Is there anything else you need?” you asked, your attempt at politeness barely masking your growing unease. The men’s behavior grew increasingly aggressive. One particularly sleazy figure leaned closer as you approached their table. “Why don’t you come outside with us, baby?” he suggested with a smirk. “I bet we could show you a real good time.”

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment, but you managed to keep your head up. “Please, just be respectful,” you said, though your discomfort was evident in the way you avoided eye contact and focused intently on your tasks. The men continued to make more remarks, their laughter echoing around the bar. “You know, I bet she likes it rough,” one of them said, his tone dripping with false camaraderie. “Just look at her.”

As the night slipped, the men began to gather their things, their loud voices gradually fading as they prepared to leave. “See you around, sweetheart,” one of them called out, his voice slurred. “Hope to find you here next time.”

You watched them leave, the sound of their laughter fading into the night. Logan, who had been sitting silently in his usual corner, was now absent. The emptiness of his spot felt pronounced, and the tension in the room seemed to shift with his departure.

Finishing up your work, you closed the bar with a sense of relief, though the unease from the evening’s events lingered. When you stepped outside to lock up, the cool night air hit you, and you were met with a startling sight.

Logan was leaning against the wall outside the bar, his clothes smeared with blood and his face bearing the marks of a recent altercation. He took a slow drag from a cigarette, the smoke curling around him and blending with the chilly night air. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sight. Shock and concern etched on your face, you approached him slowly, your steps hesitant. The sight of him, battered and silent, was jarring.

without any words, from your pocket, you retrieved a handkerchief and extended it toward Logan. The white fabric embroidered with blue and yellow flowers stood out sharply against the dark stains of blood on his clothes. He accepted the handkerchief with a solemn nod, his gaze fixed on the ground. As he began to gently wipe away the blood from his gruff face, the night’s silence seemed to deepen, and alongside your quiet breath, spun you both into a dance.

You didn’t speak. He didn't speak. You both just stared at each other, and the bloodied fabric now snug into your fist yet again. your eyes finally stay locked with his for more than a few seconds. your heart almost stops, and you swear you see a smile play on his lips. a promise.

from the corner of your eye, you see a red hat on the ground.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

The street was quiet, the only sound your footsteps echoed in the stillness. Questions swirled in your mind, each one more urgent than the last. What had happened to Logan after the men left? Did he confront them? Did he hurt them—worse than they had hurt you?

thoughts raced with unsettling possibilities. Had he been driven to violence, and if so, had it been severe? Did he simply rough them up, or had the confrontation escalated to something darker? The idea that he might have crossed a line you could never have anticipated gnawed at you. The image of him, bloodied but silent, replayed in your mind, intertwining with the echoes of those moments you had to endure.

a promise.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

The following day broke clear and crisp, but the chill in the air did nothing to lighten your mood. You arrived at the bar early, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind. The quiet morning gave way to the usual routine, and you tried to focus on your work, pushing aside the lingering thoughts about Logan. they were more apparent than usual, the thought of him hurting others because they had hurt you sent your heart into a frenzy. you cursed under your breath.

it's just a stupid crush, right?

As the evening approached and the bar began to fill with the usual crowd, you were busying yourself with the evening preparations when the door swung open. The familiar chime of the bell caught your attention, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Logan enter. But he wasn’t alone.

At his side was an older woman, her presence a striking contrast to the dim surroundings. She was dressed in a sleek, elegant outfit that seemed to shimmer under the bar’s low lights. Her laughter was light and easy, and her touch intimate as she rested her hand on Logan’s arm. she was gorgeous.

The sight of them together was like a cold splash of waterㅡ No, it felt like molten glass was being spilled on your heart. You felt a pang of jealousy so sharp it was almost physical. The way the woman leaned into Logan and the easy familiarity they shared cut through you, and a knot of discomfort formed in your chest. oh, your poor heart.

You forced yourself to focus on your duties, though every glance toward their table felt like an intrusion on a scene that you wished you could unsee. Logan’s usually reserved demeanor seemed softened by the woman’s presence. They sat close together, sharing private jokes and smiles that seemed to exclude everyone else.

When you approached their table with a forced smile, the woman looked up at you with a polite but slightly inquisitive gaze. Logan’s eyes met yours briefly, and though he didn’t say anything, there was a faint hint of acknowledgment—or perhaps recognition.

“What can I get for you?”

Logan’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before he turned to the woman. “He’ll have what I’m having,” she said. “Gin and Tonic.” The woman smiled warmly at you. “Thank you,” she said, her voice light as she shooed you away.

You nod and walk away. He doesn't like that. He never drinks that. Who is she and why is she changing everything you've built with her 'Gin and Tonic' ? jealousy was bitter, like her Gin and Tonic, mingling with a shot of rejection that you struggled to swallow

The night dragged on, and you found yourself caught between the desire to avoid them and the want to know more. Every time you had to approach their table, you forced a smile, even as your heart ached. was what he done last night just charity work? is that all you are to him?

When the evening came to a close and the bar began to empty, you watched as Logan and the woman finished their drinks and prepared to leave. They shared a brief goodbye before she departed, leaving Logan alone at the table.

As you prepared to close up, Logan made his way to the bar. The clinking of glass and the quiet murmur of the remaining patrons faded into the background as you focused on tidying up. You glanced up and there he was, as breathtaking as ever.

“Can I get you anything else?” you ask him. it's the second time you've since asked him this since he started coming to this bar. “Just a whiskey,” he said quietly, his deep voice hugging you. When you returned with his drink, Logan accepted it with a silent nod. There was a brief pause, an awkward silence that seemed to stretch between you. it never felt this way. this quiet was loud, it wasn't yours. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” he said, his voice low. “Last night...” You meet his eyes yet again, a guarded stare. “It’s not about that,” you replied, trying to keep your tone neutral. “I justㅡ" you try and bite your tongue. "I didn’t expect to see you with someone else.”

Logan’s eyes softened slightly, though his face remained inscrutable. “Things aren’t always what they seem,” he said quietly. “Sometimes it’s just about a moment of normalcy.”

wasn’t what you had normal enough?

you watched him leave, the bar yet again empty. and for the first time in months, you let yourself crumble. tears stream down your face and onto the dark wood of the counter.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

It was your day off. Your house was a haven of quietude. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving a soft twilight that wrapped around you as you stepped outside. The warmth of the day lingered in the air, tempered by a gentle breeze that rustled the leaves of the big tree shading your little bench.

You settled onto the bench, surrounded by the foliage and flowers that adorned your small garden. The rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of evening birds created a serene backdrop to your thoughts. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the tranquility wash over you as you sought solace.

in your mind played a relentless loop. these past few days have really tugged at your strength. and you never knew how deep what you felt for Logan was, and how 'not normal' it might've seemed for him. "He would never be with me. I’m clearly way too young for him. Maybe I’m not mature enough...” The words felt like a feeble attempt to convince yourself of the impossibility of what you had hoped for. the streetlights began to flicker on, casting long shadows across the garden.

Just as you were about to stand and head inside, a sudden noise made you freeze. You turned your gaze and saw a figure emerging from the edge of the street.

Logan. but he was not the same as you remembered him. His clothes were torn and bloodied, his face marred with fresh woundsㅡ He moved with a weary, deliberate pace, each step seemingly heavy with the weight of his injuries. or maybe to not scare you away.

your serene backdrop shattered, in the middle of the cold surroundings was only Logan’s limping body as he made his way towards you. Meanwhile, your hands start to shake and for a moment it feels like you are dreaming, maybe you were still meditating on the bench. He came to a halt a few feet away. His eyes, though tired, met yours. There it was again, your silence. The silence you both built, and it came back, feeling so warm. He was hurt; why was he here? how does he know you live here?

“What happened?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper, laden with worry. You took a step toward him, your gaze darting over his injuries with growing concern. He remained silent, looking away —perhaps a silent plea or a quiet admission. weighing whether to speak or to simply endure, he looked back up at you.

"Let me help you." you speak up again, eyes furrowed softly. "Please?"

With a slow nod, Logan permitted you to guide him into your cozy home. The interior was a sanctuary of warmth and soft light, a stark contrast to the chill that clung to him from the outside. You gently led him to the couch, where he sank down with a weary sigh. You moved with purpose, retrieving the first aid kit from a nearby cabinet, your mind focused on easing his pain, as Logan focused on your adorned house, every corner a small piece of you.

you began to tend to his injuries, the only sounds being the quiet rustling of bandages and Logan’s occasional, pained breath. After the last bandage was in place, you took a seat across from him, the soft chair creaking slightly as you settled.

“What happened?” you asked again, your voice soft but insistent. Logan started, “About the woman from last night—”

“I don’t care about her. I just want to know who did this to you.” you interrupted. He looked at you, a mix of frustration and resignation in his eyes. “No, it’s her. She worked for a company. They were after something from me—blood samples for some experiments. I don’t—”

He hesitated, struggling to explain. “Look, it’s not just about her. It’s more complicated than that. They’re connected to people who don’t play fair. I ended up having to defend myself.”

“You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

Logan’s gaze softened as he met your eyes. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want to complicate things. I didn’t want to bring you into this mess.”

You paused him, your hands stilling. “What is it?”

Logan took a deep breath, the weight of his words evident in his expression. “It’s not just about the trouble I’m in. It’s... it’s about how I feel."

"When I come to the bar... it’s more than just the whiskey." you heart stops and starts back again with double the force. "I’ve developed feelings for you, doll. Strong feelings.” his voice. he was vulnerableㅡ sincere. “I know it’s complicated, with our age difference, and I know I haven’t made things easy being always silentㅡ But I had to be honest with you. I care about you more than I thought I would.”

"Logan, Iㅡ" he kneeled in front of you, so fast, taking into his calloused palms your own trembling ones as he spoke again. "I know, you don't need to say anything. I know you could never fall for someone like me." like him? but how you wished everyone was like him, and no one at the same time, so he could be all your own. "I won't force you, just.."

"Please let me speak, Logan..." you interjected gently. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but it’sㅡ it's been eating my heart alive. From the moment you first came to that bar exactly five months ago, thats how long I've waited for you to speak." tears brim at your eyes. “I didn’t know how to put it into words. Every night you came in, every glance, every silent conversation—it all made me realize how deeply and painfully I fell. it’s been tearing me apart to keep it to myself, and it sucks that it took a jealousy-induced panic attack for me to finally admit it" You laughed softly, the sound tinged with sadness as you tried to hide your tears.

Logan’s gaze softened as his rough thumb drew small circles on the back of your hand. "Doll..." He paused, searching for the right words. “I’m sorry for making you go through that. I should have been braver." You shook your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “No, it’s not entirely your faultㅡ I was scared too. Scared of what my feelings meant, scared of how you might react...”

"We were both afraid then, doll. But now, we’ve got a chance to face it together. If you’re willing.”

your heart ached so good, hoping this wasn't only a dream. "I am so willing." a smile broke through your sobs and Logan finally embraced you. As you pressed against him, you felt the steady beat of his heart, a rhythmic reminder that this was realㅡ that this was happening. His body was solid and reassuring, radiating a heat that seemed to seep into your very soul. It was a warmth that was strangely familiar, as if your heart had always known this moment was meant to be. The softness of his shirt against your cheek, his scent filling your sensesㅡ There was something profoundly beautiful about this first embrace. like discovering a cherished melody for the first time, one that resonated deep within you. you had known this comfort all along, buried within the unspoken parts of both your souls.

the world outside was distant, it was just the two of you. Logan pulls away for a second and his eyes meet yours. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yoursㅡ it left you breathless. You had only dreamed of this. His lips melded with yours, and again it felt like the silence you both always shared.

When you finally pulled away, both breathless and a little disoriented, he asks through low gasps, hands cupping your blushed cheeks. "Let me show you how much I care, doll." and you can only whimper a soft 'yes' as his lips crash onto your neck, painting soft kisses and marks that tomorrow morning will look like lilac petals.

he picks you up effortlessly, and through stolen moans you guide him to your bedroom, where he places you upon the bed and stares from over you. "Undress for me, angel." he's firm in what he wants, and when you catch a glimpse of the bulge that's formed in his roughed up jeans you quickly comply. you leave yourself naked under his eyes, hands placed on your sides to support yourself. "You're so beautiful. I'm going to make you all mine." Logan groans as he starts to peel off his clothes, revealing his almost healed wounds. "I was already yours.." you whisper, and he smiles in the corner of his mouth.

he takes his time, first he preps kisses upon your breasts, then down to you bellybutton, and finally to your thighs. Logan chuckles as he parts your legs further and reveals your dripping core. "She’s ready for me, ain't she?" you muster up a 'mhm' and nip at you bottom lip as he pulls himself up and positions his hardened manhood between your legs, where you could see it better. you'd be lying if you said you weren't scared. this wasn't your first time, but it was the first time you'd ever seen a cock like hisㅡ you wondered how it'll fit.

"Don't worry, angel. I'll go slow. Promise" he pressed a kiss on your forehead before aligning himself with your entrance. Slowly, he pushes in just the tip making you yelp as the sting spread through your pussy. you stare him deep in the eyes as he pushes in further, hushing you along the way. it was so bigㅡ too big. but you loved it, you loved that it was all you dreamed about and more.

"Please, Logan..." with that, he pushes in all the way, ripping through you, his precum mixing with your juices that were flowing over his cock. he thrusts in you cunningly, gripping your hips tightly and licking long strips down your neck. all you could do is sit there and take it. "So pretty, dollㅡ fuck..." he moans, indulging further into you. your hips crash with his, and you try your best to say quiet as you feel his cock hit so deep, you're sure it reached your stomach. the room spun with you, little pleads dripping from your lips.

after a few more pumps that familiar feeling was pooling at your core, causing you to tighten around Logans's length, which made him grunt and pull your hips flush to his "that's it, angel. come around my cock, c'monㅡ shit."

you let go. bliss and pleasure take over you as your body contorts under Logan, your walls fluttering around his shaft perfectly. it doesn't take him long reach his high, pumping a few more times into you before he take his cock out and paints your stomach with white, silky strands.

for a few moments, you sit there in silence. your silence.

[aena1179]

FOR THE FIRST TIME, I WANTED SOMEONE’S COMPANY OUTSIDE OF MY OWN

✎ ׂ╰┈➤

Levi x fem!reader

(A/N): Apologies this isn’t the most romantic fic ever, this is my first time writing for levi/my first fic ever ^^ Sorry its a bit long!!!

But please enjoy!! ╰ (´꒳`) ╯💕

Summary:after a long day of training you can’t seem to fall asleep. Deciding to take a walk to fall asleep, you find levi in the library awake and decide to join in on his alone time. The strict Captain Levi, finds himself feeling unfamiliar feelings towards you.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

It’s been a couple months since you officially became a scout in the survey corps. Luckily for you, your hard work and efforts had reflected greatly. With that, you had been granted a position within the Levi squad. After demonstrating your skills in combat as well as cooperation with your colleagues, it didn’t take long for the captain to notice.

It was a busy day and you’d just returned back with the captain and his squad. After going outside the walls for a long excruciating day of training, the all you could think about was sleep.

Dragging your feet back to your own room, your muscles ached from the ODM gear. Reaching down, you massage your own sore calves with your hand before taking off your boots and the rest of your uniform; dressing in something more casual. You eye your bed practically collapsing in it, not even bothering to pull the covers up. You close your eyes hoping to get some sleep before you have to go through the same hell the next day.

…

A few minutes go by before turning into ten minutes. Then into twenty. Then to an hour…. The whole time, you toss and turn trying to get your restless body to sleep.

“Damn it…”

You toss and turn for a few more minutes deciding whatever is keeping you awake isn’t going to let up anytime soon.

Sitting up now, you turn to your door glancing at it. Maybe if you just walked around a bit, that could get you drowsy enough to finally want to rest. You sit up heading towards the door, putting on more comfortable shoes before heading out.

Opening the door, you walk out into the hallway. As expected, the dimly lit space is empty. What is usually bustling with other scouts and conversations is still at this hour. Not a single person in sight as most people had retired to their rooms at this hour.

Walking down the halls, the sounds of crickets chirp outside, the moonlight seeping in through the windows spaced out throughout the hallway. As you walked, throughout the halls, you see a dim light leak out from the library.

“Did someone seriously leave their lantern and forget about it?”

You walk closer to the library in a couple strides seeing the door slightly creaked open. Deciding to go in and shut the lantern off yourself, you open the door. Just as you open it, your eyes meet a small table where a teacup was placed a long with a chair accompanied by a body.

“Captain?”

Your eyes catch his as he glances up from his book. The hues of his eyes illuminated by the lantern’s light, his expression unable to read.

“You’re up late.” you say surprised to see the captain up at such an hour. Isn’t he tired from training everyone today? Why is he in the library? *Does* this guy ever sleep?

Levi sighs, putting his book down before he glances back at you.

“I can say the same about you. Is there a reason you’re wondering the halls this late?” he questions you furrowing his brows.

“I couldn’t sleep.” you respond honestly.

“So you decide to bother me?” he says looking at you with a slight frown.

You clear your throat shaking your head.

“Well honestly, no. I just saw a light coming from here and I thought someone lousily left it on—went to go shut it off.” you motion to the lamp.

Levi sits silently for a moment, taking a sip of his tea before he responds. This time, more of a light response escapes his lips.

“Well, I guess everyone has their moments of restlessness.”

Levi’s mind conjures for a moment as he looks at you. “Would you like to sit down?” his offer seeming sudden.

“You want me to join you?” you’re surprised the captain offers you such; feeling a bit bad for protruding on his alone time.

“Well it’s better than you standing in the middle of the room” he says with a monotone voice.

I laugh slightly, more awkwardly than anything. Walking over to him, I take a seat in the other chair divided by the small table.

“What’s the book you’re reading?” you ask looking at novel by him. In which he picks back up, handing it to you in silence for you to read the back.

“Nothing really interesting then?” you say with a more amused tone.

“Nothing in here is honestly.” he says, tone slightly more relaxed. “Anything worth reading wouldn’t be in here. Tch. Guess the regiment has more important things to spend the shitty budget on.”

You laugh entertained by his remarks.

“It’s not that bad.”

Levi shoots you a look saying otherwise. His expression saying “Really?”

Theres a bit of an awkward silence after, levi takes another sip of his tea. You twiddle your thumbs looking around the room, setting the book he handed you from your lap back on the table.

During the silence you glance when he reaches for his teacup. His eyes look tired, yet he’s still up right now. The light contours his face, etching his features. His raven black hair absorbs the light, strands fallen in front of his face. A strong, yet soft look to his appearance.

…

“Why couldn’t you sleep?” his voice interrupts the silence as he sets his cup back down looking at you.

“I’m not sure, maybe it’s whats in the air tonight. My body is exhausted from the training, I don’t know why I can’t get myself to fall asleep.” you explain rubbing the back on your neck.

“Hm.” he responds. “You wouldn’t be as sore if you were landing right with your feet.” you feel his gaze drop to your legs, pointing to then same aching area where you massaged earlier. “You put some much pressure onto your feet when you land, too stiff. I know you know how to maneuver good in ODM gear. However, with too much tension..you’re eventually going to hurt yourself.”

He looks back up at you. He sees your expression after he explained to you your efforts. His eyes search yours before he speaks again.

“You’re sore aren’t you?” he says as if reading your mind.

Your shoulders slump as he looks right through you. And you nod reluctantly admitting it. Which in return, earns you a shake from levi’s head to your response and a sigh.

“Aside from that,” he pauses. “you did good today. You worked well with everyone and used your gas sparingly.” he says cutting you slack.

You smile. “Thank you captain.”

“Don’t let it get to your head.” he says quickly following.

Laughing, you look at him smiling before you open your mouth to speak again. “I think it got to my head.”

“Hmph.” he looks over at you and your overly confident face. Some brat.

He goes to take another sip from his cup, realizing it’s empty. He places it back down, where he glances a glimpse of your smile. Something about it flashes to him for a second that tugs his strings. Immediately disregarding it, he glances away calmly.

“So, whats your reason for not sleeping?” you ask making conversation.

“I never can sleep.” he replies shortly. “And when I can, it’s only a few hours.”

You frown again from hearing him explain his situation. His response drawing close to chalking it up to insomnia. “That sounds like hell, I’m sorry captain.”

He shrugs. “Nothing to do about it, it’s fine.”

“No it isn’t.” you object looking at him concerned.

Levi looks at your expression, seeing your brows contorted to worry makes him feel kind of guilty for sharing it. His mind is not sure why he would care so much.

Before you try and lecture him on sleep, you close your lips. You feel bad trying to fight him on something that isn’t your issue, adjusting in your seat. “I probably shouldn’t even be talking— you move to cross your leg over the other while adjusting in your seat accidentally bumping the table.

In a flash, your actions bump the empty cup off the table causing it to come crashing to the ground. Your eyes widening.

Shit.

Standing up you apologize frantically to Levi as he look’s at his favorite teacup, now shattered on the ground. He himself getting up. His expression not amused.

“Im so sorry—sir I didn’t mean to do that! Shit-i’m so..so sorry.” you move to pick up the pieces hurriedly.

You pick them up one by one into your hand, looking around for somewhere to dump them before he places his hand on your shoulder. You look across to him. He’s crouching down to pick them up with you.

You hear him sigh before he says with a tone that doesn’t give away any anger or frustration. “It was an accident. Don’t just freak out and pick them up like that, idiot.”

He walks over to grab an old bucket across the library halfway full of old crumbled papers. Walking back over, he crouches down with the bucket. “In here.” his tone flat.

You mutter a quiet thank you, picking up a large shard. You think to yourself, “Of course, too tired to not bump your captain’s favorite cup off a table, but not tired enough to go to bed earlier. None of this would have happened.”

“Don’t.”

“What?” you say coming back from your thoughts. “

“It happened. It was just a cup. Don’t sit there sulking about it.” he says almost in a…comforting way?

I nod picking the last piece up.

They say lighting doesn’t strike twice yet, here you are on the world’s shittiest luck streak. Stupidly, picking it up the shard by the sharp end. It slices through tip of your finger open;the slit bleeds from flesh color to a red hue, as a bead of blood drips from the newly opened cut on your finger. Causing you to drop the shard back onto the wooden floor of the library.

Levi watches as you do so, his expression changes from unreadable to a flash of concern as he puts the bucket down.

“Okay, stop.” he says picking the shard into the bucket himself placing the bucket down behind him. “Now you *are* tired.”

“I was just not looking it’s fine.” you say backing yourself up but also feeling a tinge of embarrassment.

Your wrist is grabbed.

You watch as his hand reaches out for yours grasping your wrist, his other hand going for his cravat. He turns your hand over looking at the finger bleeding. The moment between the two of you silent.

“What are you-hey I can do that myself I don’t need your help-

“I don’t really care if you can do it on your own.” he says as he dabs at your finger wrapping the cloth around it.

You look at him tending to your cut, your cheeks dust a light pink as you look away. His hand gently is gripping yours still. Eventually pulling away as he stops the bleeding.

“Thank you… captain.” you say quietly.

“Levi.” he says softly. “Just, Levi.”

Your cheeks burn red, Levi noticing the change, lingers on your face with his eyes for a moment and then stands back up.

You stand up yourself, looking at the bucket and then back to him. “I should try and sleep again.”

Levi looks down at your hand still slightly bothered by the cut, confused in his mind as to why. Then, back at you. “That would be a good idea. I’ll probably do the same.”

You feel a bit awkward leaving, apologizing again for the cup and making your way to the door.

Before you leave, he looks at you and the words spill out of his mouth.

“Try and actually sleep this time.” he says quietly. “I expect you up early for tomorrow mornings training. And..”

He pauses.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” his tone soft.

I look at him smiling gently, waving. “You too. Try to sleep.”

He nods.

“Goodnight.” he says softly.

“Goodnight cap-goodnight, Levi.” you say, his name, thinking of how it slides off your tongue easily. You feel your stomach swirl a bit thinking it’s just because you’re tired.

“God, i’m not going to kill you for saying my name. You can relax saying it.” he says slightly fond of hearing you say his name. His face remaining straight.

You smile feeling a bit better leaving after he says that to you. Waving again, you walk off towards your room for the night leaving levi along again in the library.

Levi stands where he is for a moment before thinking. His eyes a bit softened along with his whole face. Was he too harsh? Why did it matter? Why is he still thinking about it, stop it.

He looks at the bucket seeing the shards, thinking about his cup. He knows he should be upset by his cup breaking still, and while he is a bit disappointed by the inconvenience. He can’t find any annoyance behind the thought.

The silence in the room pours back in reminding him, he’s free to his alone time again. Only now, the silence is what irritates him. Thoughts flood his mind thinking back to you breaking the cup and instead of any anger, he thinks about your face. Your features. Those features that claw into his consciousness making him feel a way he doesn’t like. The tugging feeling returns to him in his chest and he feels *his* very own face heating up, very slightly.

You had dug into the captain’s head. Planting the seed of alternate feelings towards you.

Looking one last time at the bucket and then to a small window in the library. He stares into the mixture of stars in the sky.

“For the first time, I wanted someone’s company outside of my own.”

…

“And I don’t hate that feeling.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

[dolliethv]

One Of The Girls.

summary: English is not my first language, so if you notice any mistakes I'm sorry!! Hiii, this is a pretty TO long story, I wanted to write something with a lot of sexual tension and a lot of smut, read it calmly and I hope you enjoy it xoxo!!

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x fem reader!!

Word count: about 6k

You weren't sure if attending Jude's party was a good idea, but something inside you—maybe the excitement of Halloween and the thought of celebrating with your group of friends, or perhaps the hope of seeing him—convinced you. Jude's huge, new house in Madrid, decorated with lit pumpkins and fake cobwebs, gleamed in the distance, full of people already enjoying the night.

You stepped inside, and strobe lights danced on the walls, while laughter and music filled the air. You grabbed a drink as you passed by the improvised bar, trying to relax. You hadn’t taken more than two steps when you felt that familiar gaze tracing your body. You slowly turned, and there he was, Jude, leaning against the wall, his eyes fixed solely on you.

You wished the ground would swallow you because your damn group of friends was headed straight toward Jude Bellingham’s group. Of course, they all knew each other.

After your friends had chatted enough with the other group, you decided to take the lead.

"Couldn’t you put a little more effort into your costume?" That was the first thing you asked when you finally looked him in the eyes for the first time that night.

Curious about what he was actually dressed as?

Seriously? A simple cop uniform? You could bet your life on the fact that men have zero originality—they always go for the easy option. Lord, give me patience.

You absolutely hated basic Halloween costumes. Anything that took less than ten minutes and minimal effort didn’t deserve attention. It might seem a bit over the top, but given the number of creative ideas this particular holiday offered, you just couldn’t stand it.

Not when you even designed and made your own costume for the occasion.

But it was funny how quickly Jude changed your mind.

Basic is good. Basic is great. Damn it.

"What’s your costume supposed to be, anyway?" Jude continued, his voice calm but his body still a bit tense.

"It’s Suki from Fast and Furious!" Drew, one of Jude’s friends, shouted loud enough that the music barely muffled it.

He wasn’t even trying to hide his blatant staring, but truthfully, neither of you cared. You turned and headed off with your friends to who knows where.

You knew you looked good. You’d worked particularly hard on your outfit for tonight, so you had no reason to hide. Everything was perfectly planned, from head to toe.

Minutes passed, and you tried to convince yourself there was no reason to panic, but there were a lot of people, and your outfit was a bit too revealing. So, when you felt hands around your waist, you were ready to scream for whoever it was to back off.

"It's me."

Oh my God, you almost had a heart attack.

Jude pulled you against him, your back pressed to his chest, his left hand settling on your hip while his right extended around your shoulder to not-so-gently push people aside. The tall, dark-haired boy didn’t take long to start moving you both, making space with his prominent frame when people were too slow to get out of the way, shoving them until he cleared a path for both of you.

Stupid party, stupid Jude Bellingham. It was his fault you ended up there anyway. Jude may not have seen your face, but he definitely felt how tense you were in his arms.

"Why the bad attitude?"

Bad attitude? You didn’t know much about attitudes, but all your limited knowledge vanished when he pulled you even closer.

You cleared your throat briefly, your words followed by a slight shake of your head.

"Am I the one with the bad attitude?" you replied.

Because truthfully, you’d been on your best behavior since you got to that house. Or at least trying.

Jude loved driving you crazy; he thought you looked damn adorable acting tough at barely 5'1".

"By the way, you look amazing."

It was a great move, saying something so flattering to ease the tension.

"Thanks," you murmured, not caring whether he heard, your eyes glued to the back of the guy Jude was elbowing out of the way.

Two stomped-on feet and a "Are you gonna move or what the hell are you waiting for?" later, you were finally out of the chaos.

Well, as far out of danger as you could be at a party and in a house full of mostly strangers.

However, Jude didn’t stop there. He guided you to what you vaguely recognized as the first hallway on the right, his hands never leaving your body. It wasn’t unpleasant for you, not at all, but you both drew more than a few curious stares. It didn’t bother you much now that your closest friends knew. Other people’s opinions of you were never the most positive anyway, but you were surprised at how little Jude seemed to care, considering it was his house.

When you finally stopped, you found yourselves where you’d suspected a few moments earlier, slightly sheltered from the loud music. There were a few other people around, but they were far enough away not to intrude on your conversation.

Jude released you a few seconds before turning you around and wrapping his arms around you again, pulling you close as he leaned against the wall.

"I like your hairstyle; it’s cute," he said, grabbing a lock of your hair between his fingers. "Scratch that. Actually, I love how sexy you look with your hair down."

You were starting to seriously regret the day you told Jude you wouldn’t mind being complimented daily because it was getting out of hand.

How were you supposed to function properly when Jude kept looking at you with dark eyes?

You swallowed hard, shifting your gaze to the side of his face to avoid dealing with the intensity of his stare. You needed to say something and had to do it now.

"People were staring at us."

Of course, your voice trembled, and of course, out of all the things you could’ve said, you picked the one with the most potential to ruin the moment.

Jude was being very open tonight, and while you didn’t dislike it, it was new and somehow made him even more intimidating. All you could focus on was trying to stay afloat, despite involuntarily melting into the warmth of his touch and the comfort of his voice.

"When you look like that, baby, of course, people are going to stare."

You were getting nervous so quickly that it was unreasonable. Your breathing was already picking up, and butterflies were fluttering, one by one, to the point that you could no longer distinguish between those in your heart and those in your stomach.

This was exactly why you shouldn’t stay away from Jude for too long.

"News travels fast, Bellingham. Especially when you’re the footballer of the moment."

But with Jude, you didn’t have to worry. Jude could take care of both of you, and maybe you shouldn’t trust him, but God, it felt so good to be protected.

You desperately wanted to kiss him. Every brush of his thumb against your skin was electrifying. You needed to be closer, needed more, and this time, it had nothing to do with lust.

It was the kind of need you hadn’t felt before, the kind that demanded an exchange of feelings, even if not through words. Even if you tore off your clothes and pressed skin to skin, chest to chest, heartbeat to heartbeat, it wouldn’t be enough. You wanted to be inside Jude’s mind, to share all his thoughts, to experience the unknown, to finally understand each other, but you were too scared.

You couldn’t get there just yet.

"Your costume is stupid," you finally said, your voice coming out a bit more determined.

Jude’s lips curled into a smile, which quickly turned into a laugh that disappeared just as fast, but it was definitely something worth remembering.

"You’re so good at flirting," he purred sarcastically. "Tell me more."

You thought you might be able to keep a straight face, but as soon as you saw him smile, you followed. There was something so addictive about it, maybe the fact that you didn’t see it often, but it definitely made Jude ten times more attractive.

And he was already too attractive to begin with. God.

"It really is stupid," you confirmed your own thoughts, your fingers trailing up to fix the collar of Jude’s cop uniform. "But you look so sexy. I don’t know why I’m so into this kind of stuff."

You knew you weren’t the only one. It’s not for nothing that women love men in uniform.

"You don’t like the uniforms; you like the authority behind them. Or should I say, you’re afraid of it?"

Even though you had the same smile, Jude looked completely different, but he was right. You always felt uneasy around any kind of authority figure.

Watching Jude—with the quite noticeable height and body size difference compared to you, with the sleeves of his uniform stretching around his biceps every time he moved—you couldn’t blame yourself for feeling a bit nervous.

And to top it all off, a pair of very real-looking handcuffs hung from his belt.

So yeah, you gave up your principles about liking the basic for one night, but Jude had chosen a really good costume to spark your imagination.

"Honestly..." Jude grabbed your chin and pulled you even closer, his eyes fixed on your lips. "I wouldn’t mind being a cop if it meant I could make pretty things like you tremble."

As if he needed to be a cop to do that. Idiot.

As if you didn’t already find him intimidating enough without the costume. As if your knees didn’t buckle and your body didn’t heat up every time Jude looked you in the eyes for more than three seconds.

"I think that’d be an abuse of power."

Very socially aware of you, but it might be more believable if you stopped looking at him like you wanted him to take advantage of you. You know it's wrong to think that.

Jude hummed, sliding his thumb over your lower lip before pressing it and pulling it down. The movement was so sudden it made you hiss. It was almost embarrassing how willing you were for Jude to do whatever he wanted, to play with your body however he pleased, without questioning the reason.

"It isn’t if you enjoy it."

Their heads tilted to opposite sides, moving closer with lips tingling from the desire to kiss. You could feel Jude exhale before gently pressing his body against yours and brushing his mouth against yours when—

"Bellingham!"

Both grimaced, and you quickly jumped back, your hands starting to smooth out the wrinkles in your clothes. You didn’t turn around or look at Jude; you didn’t want to know if someone had really seen you and didn’t want to deal with it.

Jude’s friends weren’t the type of people he enjoyed talking to, so it would be weird to find yourself in a situation where you had to pretend to be a bit interested in what they had to say.

"Oh, hey," Jude responded with much less enthusiasm as the sound of footsteps grew louder.

"Good party, man."

You recognized the characteristically deep voice and immediately tried to move a little further from the sound. You opted to take the empty space next to Jude, and to avoid seeming rude, you looked up, meeting Trent Alexander’s eyes before giving a small nod in his direction. The man nodded back with a shy smile resting on your lips.

"Hey y/n, you look great!!" He said.

"Thanks."

You knew him, or at least you knew who Alexander was. In your defense, you knew all the people in your circle of unfortunately extroverted friends. You knew he was a guy with too much money, another footballer, not surprisingly—very attractive—and also much kinder than many other rich and attractive people.

However, you started to feel anxious.

Alexander didn’t seem to notice your discomfort, even after greeting you. But then the guy lowered his gaze, not going below the level of your skirt, but enough to make you wonder— is this guy checking me out?—God, men are all so bold.

Suddenly, Bellingham cleared his throat, subtly but enough to move you a little out of Trent’s view.

Oh, okay.

"Sorry to bother you, but my friend here won’t stop saying she wants to meet the great Jude Bellingham."

Unaware of the presence of someone else before, you moved your gaze to Trent, where a model-like tall girl was giving all her attention to Jude.

You were annoyed by how attractive she was. You couldn’t imagine how she looked in Jude’s eyes. You weren’t a fan of the cliché thought of hating other women over men, but damn, this feeling was hard to handle.

"Can you blame me? He looks even better than I imagined," she said loudly.

Then you looked at how that girl was dressed.

She was obviously someone very bold, and you were all for female empowerment, but if she came any closer to Jude, you’d have to break her neck.

If Jude hadn’t noticed her before, he definitely was now, shamelessly scanning her figure until stopping on her chest a bit longer than necessary. When he looked back at her face, he gave her a playful smile.

"She knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it. My kind of girl."

Sorry, what? His type of what? Is he really giving me a hint?

A fake and shy smile spread across the unknown girl’s face as she tilted her head slightly and flipped her hair back, exposing more of her neck and collarbones.

"Oh, yeah?" She asked, her voice interrupted by laughter. "What else is your type?"

Me?

The girl started tracing circles with her index finger over the lower part of her collarbone before dragging it down, outlining the beginning of her breasts. They were quite exposed; it was hard not to notice them, but there was no worse way Jude could handle it than staring at them, his expression not hiding what he was thinking.

Bellingham took a step towards her, immediately placing his right hand on her hip without gripping it, just touching a bit, while moving to whisper something in her ear.

There was absolutely no damn way Jude was doing this in front of you, there must be some kind of reality error. No fucking way, you were really holding yourself back from pulling him away from her and giving him a beating.

Once the brunette straightened up, they were both smiling, and you couldn’t hear it, but you read it from the girl’s lips.

"I got lucky tonight."

Well, you had never considered yourself a crazy person, or at least not one who acted out of her mind with no regard for social norms.

Nevertheless, at that moment, you could barely stand.

You had no doubt about it anymore; it was too strong not to recognize, too powerful to ignore. You were jealous, so jealous that all you could think about was violence and all you could see was red.

"I’m leaving," Alexander suddenly said, visibly uncomfortable with the looks being exchanged.

You didn’t even have time to thank him mentally before the girl grabbed his arm as if her life depended on it, sweetly smiling at Jungkook and saying:

"I’ll be waiting."

And with that, they left.

The crowd made them disappear in less than a minute, leaving no trace. All you could focus on now was the unshakable smile on Jude’s face.

You despised him.

None of this was part of the plan.

Jude’s plan was to keep you without sex for a while, make you show how much you missed him, make you feel so needy that you’d give in to anything in seconds. Bellingham thought nothing could compare to the feeling he’d have once he saw your desperation, the ease with which he’d let you go, giving him the upper hand in the situation.

He was wrong.

Something better than a proud version of you was a version willing to admit, to admit that you were jealous, and he made you realize it after this little outburst.

"Where were we?" He asked as if nothing had happened, his attention slowly returning to you, clearly displeased at his side.

-I might have overstepped a bit- you thought. Relax.

Since Jude did everything he could to avoid giving you more than a glance while talking to that girl, wanting to make it as real as possible, he was enjoying watching your reaction.

You stared defiantly at the wall opposite them, obviously trying to transfer all your anger to her instead of Jude.

Seeing you cute probably wasn’t what you was looking for, but Jude found it absolutely adorable.

"Is something bothering you, sweetheart?" He gently brushed a lock of hair from your forehead, his voice laced with false concern.

"No."

It wasn’t a very convincing lie with your teeth clenched and a blank expression on your face.

"Mm, I think it is."

"Good for you."

Jude had to stifle a satisfied smile. The way you responded with the first thing that came to your mind showed you weren’t thinking much before speaking.

"Not in the mood for a conversation anymore?"

You closed your eyes.

But you couldn’t do that, not when it was exactly what you wanted to do. He couldn’t be the first to break, admit his lust, show that he wanted to be with you so much that he’d trample his pride.

Not again.

“You know, I never took you for a jerk who got jealous so easily.”

If it were physically possible, your jaw would be hitting the floor. The air caught in your throat and your lips hung oddly open as you looked at Jude and found the lack of concern on his features.

Being honest was the easiest way to get through to him.

“How dare you?” You asked offended, pushing Jude away as hard as you could.

His balance seemed to falter as you failed to move him an inch, but he did successfully sway on his two feet, before Jude grabbed your wrists.

“How dare I what?” He asked you with an amused smirk. “Does she make you jealous? I was just having a conversation, babe.”

“No, not that.” You finished your statement with an irritated groan, violently breaking free from his hold. “You’re an idiot. Go have a conversation then.”

“Should I?”

The look you gave him only said one thing. “I fucking dare you.”

“Do you think you’ll be able to find her?” You couldn’t help the sarcasm. “You didn’t look at her face even once.”

Well, if it wasn’t obvious, you screwed up. The chances of her living without Bellingham mentioning what you wanted him to not notice were now basically non-existent.

“She didn’t put that on so I would look at her face.”

You had never looked so angry, your head shaking in disbelief and fists clenched on either side of your body. You looked like you were really struggling not to slap him and Jude couldn’t blame you. That was the point, after all.

“Oh, wow.”

He was already on his way to calming her down, his hands reaching for your waist, when you raised his in defense.

“Don’t touch me.”

You even pointed with your index finger in warning, wagging it when Jude didn’t stop.

“I’m not joking, I’ll slap you, don’t touch me- mhppm-”

With one hand around your waist and the other pressing against your jaw, Jude had you backed up against the wall in no time. Despite your earlier threats and your bad mood, you surrendered into his arms quickly, melting into the touch, your soft moans being muffled by Jude’s mouth. The longer it went on, the more eager you became, tugging at his uniform, trying to pull him closer despite your bodies already being together.

When he pulled away, you were a mess. It was being a fight for him to refuse your touch.

“We can go to my room…”

He whispered against you, before moving lower.

“Talk…”

He pressed a kiss against your chin

“I’ll make you laugh…”

And then one on the side of your jaw

“I can make you cum…”

You shuddered at the proposal.

You both knew he wanted it, that was not in doubt. The question was how far he would go to get it.

“You will have my full attention.” With sarcasm.

Another kiss, just below your ear.

“All you need to do is ask.” He made sure you were looking at each other when he spoke, eager to see your reaction. “Tell me you don’t want to see me with someone else.”

You noticed how your body completely gave out, all hope in your eyes. Your excitement was replaced with panic as your pupils dilated and your mouth opened and closed without saying a word.

The offer was so tempting, the promise so real, so possible. I hate it.

You wanted it so badly, but it was a matter of pride and even though you were the prouder of the two of you, it was clear that you still had a hard time taking a step back from him.

“If I need to ask for attention, then I don’t want it.” You replied with a dry tone.

“If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Your jaw clenched at the implication. You knew it.

With the girl dressed in a bad porn nurse costume.

(...)

“Can you stop looking at him? I’m talking to you.”

The words of Odessa, your best friend, barely reached your ears, your thoughts overwhelming you in an almost pleasurable way.

You watched as Jude’s hand wrapped around an unfamiliar waist for the umpteenth time that night, causing your own fingers to grip your knee tightly.

This time it was a redhead, dressed in something that was more meant to cover the most private parts of her body than disguise, but who were you to judge? Right?

There was clearly a set pattern that you noticed during the time you spent sitting, gaping and staring in Bellingham’s direction. People would come up to say hello, most often women, their hands touching as much as they could without being inappropriate and a few minutes after sharing a few words they would come over with eyes fluttering in a way that could only mean one thing.

The first few times it happened, your heart nearly stopped beating. You were sure you knew what was about to happen next- Jude would take her by the hand and lead her to his bedroom.

But it didn’t happen. Not with the curly-haired brunette, not with the six-foot-eight leggy blonde, not with the one he was feasting on now.

Is he not interested? You asked yourself.

A raspy growl rumbled somewhere deep in your throat before you grabbed your glass and clumsily emptied it down your throat, not caring how the liquid spilled from the corners of your lips and down your chin.

You called out to your friends, as you abruptly stood up, almost tripping over someone sitting between them.

“Let’s dance.”

Your lips formed a smile at the thought of Jude seeing you with someone else. It was childish, yes, but you didn't really care.

You were about to execute your plan, but when you turned around, you found nothing worth your attention. The spot Jude was occupying all this time now had other people in it, no sign of the brunette in sight.

You wished you could say that it didn’t affect you.

So you turned your back on your friends and walked in the opposite direction, your newly gained good mood now ruined. You thought maybe if Jude admitted to being jealous, you could too. It would make it less embarrassing.

If Jude was here, surely he could get something better.

Yes, if Jude was here. If he wasn't fucking someone else.

"Having fun?"

A familiar voice reached your ears, close enough to feel the vibration of the sound, making you shiver, thanking God the place was too dark for anyone to notice as Bellingham's proximity made your entire body shake.

You kept your eyes on the empty glass in front of you not quite sure how you were going to respond with his mood.

Any words or actions from you from now on could be detrimental.

"Don't you want to talk to me?"

Silence.

"Okay, I'll go then."

Jude didn't even move. He didn't pull away, nor did he lean back. He stood right where he was five seconds ago, the same annoyed, mocking smile on his features.

"You're still not jealous?"

You weren't just jealous, you were seething with it.

"I am, actually. Tell anyone and I'll make sure it's the last thing that comes out of your mouth."

Admitting jealousy was a big deal for you, especially since you didn't know if Jude felt the same way. Also knowing what was coming after this.

"There's not much that can brighten my mood right now."you entered the room, "I just needed courage for what I'm about to do." locking it once the door was closed.

When you turned around, your eyes met and Jude felt something he hadn't felt in a while, it felt like he didn't really know anything about you.

He wasn't blind to the progress you'd made in the different areas of your relationship, but there was still a lot left to say, explain, discover, and - in a situation like this, when you seemed to be a completely different person - he was surprised at how much he still had to get to know you.

"Yeah? And can I know what it is?"

He longed to feel you again on other parts of his body and even more so when your hot mouth landed on his mouth as you said-

"Punish you."

It wasn't that it hadn't crossed Jude's mind that you might do something like this all night, but still, hearing you out loud was enough to bring a smug smile to his lips.

"Oh, really?"

It would be a lie to say you didn't find it fun.

Things were definitely taking a different turn than he had planned, but then again, ever since the party started, all of his plans were ruined, so he was surprisingly not opposed to the idea.

He was actually very intrigued.

You hummed in agreement and within seconds your hands were back on Jude's body, this time being bolder and freer with your movements.

It was the first proper touch that night and Bellingham thought he was ready, but he really had no idea how much he had missed this until he experienced it again. He struggled to keep his eyes open, but the feel of your palms and the heaviness of your fingers prevented him from doing so.

Your hands moved in opposite directions, one sliding down his abdomen and the other circling the side of his neck. With the pad of your thumb, you traced circles on his skin, massaging and releasing some of the tension.

He had a hard time trying to keep from getting an erection from the moment he laid eyes on you when you arrived. Now... now it was impossible.

"You know..." you started saying.

Jude heard your whisper, but could barely register it due to the heat that was beginning to creep steadily down his body, fading only for a moment when his belt got in the way, but then coming back stronger, with a grip more powerful than before. Bellingham would be ashamed to admit that his breath hitched as soon as he felt you where he wanted it most.

“I’d rather have these for myself, but you left me no choice.”

It all clicked, both metaphorically and literally, in his brain and out loud, but Jude couldn’t move fast enough to stop it.

The handcuffs were already dangling from the tip of your index finger as you swung them teasingly back and forth in front of his face.

Oh. Interesting.

The way you could overpower Jude in a mere second was wonderful.

“What makes you think I’m going to let you do that?”

You pursed your lips briefly as if contemplating his answer.

“And what makes you think I’m going to ask for your permission?” You replied.

“Maybe that drink was too much after all,” he looked at you with a smirk. “Looks like you’re confusing roles.”

Judging by his expression, you didn’t share the same opinion.

You pushed him until the back of his knees hit the bed.

Jude didn’t stop you or object, instead sitting on the edge as he was pushed down, curious to see how things would play out.

“Are you threatening me, baby?” He asked, leaning back on his forearms.

You looked perfect from every angle, she was so sure of it now.

Your free hand gripping Jude’s jaw and squeezing it a little in annoyance.

“My name isn't ‘baby’.”

You slid your fingers down the side of Bellingham's throat where the smear of a lipstick still rested on his skin.

As you stared into each other's eyes, you looked so angry that Jude couldn't help the heat spreading throughout his insides.

"Wouldn't that make you even more angry, baby?" He emphasized on the nickname on purpose, arching an eyebrow mockingly.

The sound that came out of your throat was quiet, but he didn't miss it.

-Even her grunts are cute.-

"Shut the fuck up."

It was clear that you weren't usually the type to get angry to that extent, and even if you had been, you were the type to never act on it.

"Keep your hands behind your back if you don't want to lose your most prized possession."

You felt it before you understood it - a pressure of something hard and unfamiliar against your crotch. Something unwanted.

And it came, a sign. Not too big, not too flashy, not too obvious, but painful and threatening.

Your foot moved so abruptly that the tip of your shoe met the tip of Jude's cock and hit dangerously close to his balls.

You did it. I got you.

"Good choice."

With one swift movement, his crotch was free again, but his hands were bound at the wrists by the steel rings.

You pushed him down onto the bed and pulled his shirt open, leaving his chest completely bare.

“Shit,” you muttered at the sight. “You’re lucky to be attractive.”

“And you’re lucky to be able to see me like this.”

You sent him a questioning look. “Oh, I am? Who hasn’t gotten to see you like this? Because from what I’ve witnessed, you don’t exactly have a criterion when it comes to who you let undress you.”

“You seem really upset by that thought, sweetheart. Are you scared of having a little competition?”

“And what makes them my competition? They’re not as pretty as me.”

“But they’re a lot more obedient.” He replied.

Pure shit.

There’s nothing Jude likes more than how disobedient you are.

“You know my legs are always open for you.”

"Baby..."

"You know you can take anything you want from me, anywhere you want... any way you want..."

Every syllable that came out of your mouth was filled with confidence. Your fingers caressed his jaw as if he was teasing, barely grazing the skin before pulling away and touching another part.

"You have such a dirty mouth." The boy said.

"You want it around your cock?"

Holy shit, did you really say that?

"Yeah."

You hummed, acting like you were considering it.

"But I think you acted like shit, I don't think you deserve it."

"You're lucky that I'm tied up right now, otherwise I'd fuck you until you were ruined."

You seemed to take it as a compliment, your thighs clenching tightly around Bellingham's hips to feel him better.

"Oh yeah? You wanna fuck me?"

As if his massive erection wasn't proof enough already.

“Yes, baby. So bad.”

His confession brought a satisfied smile to your face.

“You wanna see what I got under there?”

“Show me how pretty you are.”

But you didn’t take off any clothes.

You just started riding one of his thighs, your movements teasing and slow.

“Shit. Take this off me.” The dark-skinned one said.

“And why would I do that?”

God, this was getting so frustrating. Jude wanted nothing more to do than watch you choke on his cock until you remembered how to talk to him properly. You shifted a little on his lap, creating a small but effective friction.

“Baby…”

“Suck.” You claimed.

Shit. Usually, Jude was the one giving the orders. Usually, you were the one with Jude’s fingers inside your mouth, too. He opened his mouth obligingly and you immediately pushed two of your fingers in, letting them rest on the tip of his tongue before pushing them fully into his mouth.

“You like having my fingers in your mouth?”

Jude couldn’t help but like the mess he was turning you into.

You withdrew your fingers without warning and brought them to your own mouth, sucking and moaning lewdly as you looked directly into Bellingham’s eyes.

“You’re so fucking dirty.”

Your hand trailed until it was just above your breasts, eyes still on Jude’s as you squeezed your tits.

Jude didn’t even have time to react before he saw you move up your own body and rub through the material covering your pussy, touching up and down a bit teasing the boy in front of you, leaving a wet spot when you pulled your hand away.

“Move your hips for me. Can you do that for me?” That innocent tone you set made Jude explode. And he didn't need to be told twice.

He put all of his weight on his arms, his palms and heels sinking deep into the mattress, and he lifted his hips so hard that you jumped a little on his lap.

Without further ado, he thrust up, fast at first, to give you a taste of his desire, but then slower, nicer, dragging his length over your underwear-covered clit.

You decided to go a little further and freed Jude's cock, so damn big and veiny. You pulled off your underwear and started rubbing yourself. It was so damn delicious the difference in size and how the head of Jude's cock rubbed against your clit.

But what kind of punishment would it be, giving him something he so craved? You knew. You had prepared better.

So when you forgot about everything except the repetitive motion you were supposed to follow, when your moans were finally released loud and clear in the way only he had heard them before, when he could already feel the pleasure, you lifted your hips.

Bellingham groaned in frustration, closing his eyes as he fucked into the air, unable to stop his body from seeking the orgasm he had just been denied.

“Untie me this very instant.”

He may not have sounded angry at his ragged breathing, his body still recovering from the denial, but he was and he would gladly show you how terrifying he could be if he gave him the chance.

You smiled sweetly, dropping your weight onto his lap, a movement so sudden it left him breathless.

“No.”

"I wasn't-" He trailed off, a small sound escaping his mouth from another roll of your hips on his axis. "I wasn't asking."

"Fuck, did I tell you how big you are?" You replied, your small body shaking as you pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed. "You should learn not to play with me Bellingham, I'm not one of those girls, don't get wrong with me."

You pulled up your underwear and pulled back up the shorts that barely covered your ass and the small miniskirt accompanied by a pink belt that was hooked with straps to the leggings that reached just above your knee.

"Shit, shit, shit..." He replied frustrated.

"I'm sorry but now you'll have to fix this on your own." You turned around and walked away.

Jude Bellingham is totally lost.

[thelunarfairy]

The look without shine

So, it really was Amane.

And yes, they share the same entity, since always, as I have already mentioned in thousands of posts out there.

It's always been here…Always.

This made me think… that tired look in Amane's eyes… That vague and lost look in Tsukasa's eyes… two lost children who had their innocence stolen by a "thing".

What that thing, what that entity made them become… all for one wish, the wish to save each other…

The wish that took them both deeper, further away from the salvation they so desperately sought. It's painful to see how far they could go for salvation.

To see that even in the "ideal reality" they wouldn't have salvation, neither of them…

Amane trying to do what it takes to save the one he loves, but being devoured equally by what Tsukasa was pulled into.

I can understand why Tsukasa gave up, why he wouldn't come back. Why should he prolong the suffering? In truth, it was Amane who should have left in the first place.

But neither of them accept this pain.

To see those tired eyes, trying their best to continue holding on to this painful love.

Seeing Amane in that state

Didn't make me think about guilt, about villainy, about whether or not he was responsible for all of this or that everything that was happening was his fault, or even the people or what was left of them screaming from the other side of the windows for Mitsuba to run away.

I was thinking about the weight, how those eyes of his reflected an emptiness, a darkness, a tiredness that apparently no one could help alleviate.

How could someone so hurt, hurt other people… the fear of pain, the fear of loss, the "injustice".

Why would Tsukasa have to have a twin who would die so soon? Why would he have to suffer with the death of his beloved brother? In the same way, why would Amane have to lose Tsukasa?

The injustice of life.

The twins made innocent people pay because of their tragic fate, even if no one was to blame for Amane having that terminal illness, even if Tsukasa had chosen to leave, no one should pay for their happiness.

So that look… that tired look of someone who knows what they are doing, of someone who knows that the choice they have made and are making is wrong, but still keeps moving forward because the world is not "fair". Because they want to live next to the person they love.

The look without light, without shine…Just wanting to live again…just wanting happiness..

It makes me particularly sad, their fate is the same…

Maybe, we have the same thoughts….Tsuchigomori….

[waviebads]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃

part.1

Bada Lee!Royal guard x Princess!Reader

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⌢ . ꒰ ⌢୨୧⌢ ꒱ . ⌢

Summary: Bada is the royal guard of the princess heir to the throne of Ewha, who is secretly in love with her.

Word count: 1,1k

Cw: reader being forced to marry a man.

A/n: Feel free to correct any grammatical errors (English is not my first language) and sorry for the short chapter, the next parts will be longer!!!

⠀⠀⠀ ⌢ . ꒰ bada's pov ꒱ . ⌢

𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑... her hair loose with black strands invading her extremely pale and glowing face, her gleaming dark eyes fixed on her reflection in the mirror as her locks were affected by the hairbrush in her hands while I listened to the low, irritated mutterings of the princess in front of me.

Being a royal guard and being close to the princess heir to the throne of the kingdom of Ewha was not easy, in my view, especially when she is such a...beautiful girl. I was asked to be the guard a few months ago and insisted on it by my mother, the king's maid, so that I could do the job as the princess's private guard. Although the princess was an extremely beautiful girl and desired by many, she didn't have any friends, and so when I started to be her private guard and look after her directly, she developed an extreme sympathy for me, being kind and affectionate to me all the time, even though I was just another one of her servants. I particularly didn't mind her friendliness at first, after all, I always thought she was forcing herself to be a humble person for the sake of her reputation as the "Humble Princess", but after a while I realized how sweet and lovely she was and could be, and now this girl was like a drug to me, like something I had to see, have and want to feel all the time, but I couldn't be anything other than her royal guard, after all, we're two women, and any kind of closeness between us would be a wake-up call for everyone. I couldn't deny it, I felt disgusting for feeling things for her, I felt wrong for thinking every night about my fingers undoing the satin ribbons of her dress, but I just couldn't get these thoughts out of my mind, it was impossible, so I kept these feelings and thoughts in my mind and had to act as if we were just close people, maybe even friends, but nothing much. Now I found myself in her room, watching her from afar combing her long, beautiful hair while muttering quietly to herself.

"I can't believe my father is forcing me to marry a man I don't even love!"

I hear another murmur coming from the princess in front of me, and this time she's speaking directly to me, who's standing behind her at a comfortable and respectful distance.

"Well, this is a complicated situation, it must be really hard to think that in a few days you're going to marry a man you don't even know, I'm sorry about that, princess."

I speak in a low, calm tone, trying to somehow reassure the girl in front of me, this time seeing her drop the hairbrush that was in her hands and place it on her dressing table, turning back to meet my gaze.

"I really don't want to go on this date, let alone marry this man. I knew this moment would come, I knew that at some point I would have to find someone to take the throne with me, but I just don't want to marry this man, I don't love him, I don't even know him, but my parents and the kingdom are waiting for my reign, but I'm not happy. Do you think it's fair to me?"

"Definitely not, my princess, but you know that you must join with this man to take the throne, without a man by your side you can't become queen, and this prince will be important to the kingdom of Ewha."

Again, I tried to comfort and reassure the princess with my words, even though I knew they were useless. I couldn't deny that I was just as upset as she was, the thought of a man touching her and having her as his own made my chest ache, I really didn't want that, but it was the right thing to do. Now the girl in front of me was speechless, probably because she was devastated by her situation. She turned back to face her mirror, looking at her figure again and starting to comb her hair as she had been doing before, while remaining completely silent and with her eyes half watering. That scene hurt me inside, seeing her sad and upset at not being able to marry someone she really loves, someone she doesn't even know. I wanted to be that person, I wanted to be able to wake up every day next to her, but that would be impossible, wouldn't it?

My thoughts were cut off the moment I heard knocks on the door of the princess's room, and soon saw one of her servants standing at the door telling the princess that the carriage had arrived to take her to the prince's castle where she was to be married in the future. Even with a lot of discouragement on her face, the princess stands up while straightening her long dress, heading towards the exit of her room before turning to me again.

"Promise me you won't let me marry him?"

As I heard the weak, low words coming from the princess, my heart raced and I felt my hands tremble as I felt my body react to a simple sentence coming from the little girl in front of me. I couldn't promise her anything, not least because I had no power over her or her marriage, but her words were so true and moving that I simply couldn't say a simple "no" to the princess.

"I promise."

My words were short, but full of truth that I had to keep. After the little girl listened to me, she gave a wide, innocent smile that made my heart soar even more with that beautiful scene of her smiling at me, I could spend days and days watching her smile at me. Her figure disappeared from my sight, leaving me alone in her room while I thought about everything, about how uncomfortable she would be in that man's presence during their date, about how I should stop her from getting married and about how I could make her mine, just mine.

[gracemain919]

The Priest (oc) and “Mother” (oc): short story:

(The Fungus Universe)

Tw: Yandere, Polyamory, sex in bed.

(two people x you(fem))

Let Me Serve You

It’s really comfortable. A soft and warm bed with a welcomed addition of cool air conditioning making you just want to snuggle closer to your blanket. So smooth and delicate as you traced your fingers over the fabric that covered your chest.

You would move, probably wrap yourself up in the corner of the bed if it weren't for the two bodies on your sides. On your left, you had a very snuggly woman who rested her face in the crook of your neck(as if she wasn't taller than you), and on your right, you had an older man who rested his arm below you joining the both of you together. A perfect combination, a way for the both of them to share you equally without causing any problems, and very comfortable.

It was a nice rest but the idea of having to be sent off to another Leader really annoyed you. In the morning you would probably have to be with another one… you weren't thrilled about that in the least. Time just went by so fast, you barely did the things you wanted to do. Maybe you could do at last one more thing before you had to leave…

“Pss,” you whispered slowly nudging Henry’s torso with your elbow. “Wake up…”

“Hmm?”. He didn't even open his eyes but his curiosity was loud and clear. Not like he had a choice other than being curious.

“I’m about to leave,” you muttered trying your best to not disturb Rose’s sleep, “I thought I could do one last thing before I left”.

“Like what?” he asked slowly opening one of his eyes. “It’s too late for our usual activities…”. A smirk clearly showed on his face overriding his past statements.

“I-” You felt your throat get dry as the words slipped your vocabulary. You felt ashamed as if you were taking advantage of them just by thinking of such things. These people they… They had jobs and lives, yet the fungus made them throw everything away. Of course, you never wanted to be there in the first place but now were you really so innocent-?

A yawn could be heard beside you as Rose squeezed your shoulder. “Oh come on dear, our lord obviously wants one more bite before leaving,” she commented ruining your train of thought. Yeah, she definitely stole the words right from your mouth.

“Is that right dear?” she asked looking towards you with such loving eyes that could make your heart melt. Warm hands rubbed soothing circles into your shoulder as you were slowly lifted to a sitting position by the firm arm underneath you.

Why were they always so compliant? Almost all of them were in some form compliant. You just wished one of them would just go up to your face and remind you that you aren't all that. Living in such conditions will fuck up your brain for sure.

“Right?”. You slowly looked back at them as Henry repeated Rose’s question. They both were waiting for you… they both wanted you. Fine, you could face reality another day.

You nodded and just like magic Rose pulled you closer to her with a smile. “Oh I've been waiting all week dear,” she groaned, “waiting for you to relieve the ache in my body”. You felt her rub her hips against yours in pure need that you didn't even know that she had. Gosh, why were you blushing? “Why do you make us wait for so long?”

You really didn't know why. You just wanted to hold on to whatever dignity you had before this whole site went to shit. But you were only human to such pleas and begs. Along with their glare as Henry focused more on letting Rose do the talking as he waited patiently seemingly less eager than her, but his grip on your back said otherwise.

The woman’s hold on your side loosened as her hands started to work on your shirt while the other tugged at your pants. Laying limp like a doll waiting to be played with wasn't great. Maybe you should help them out?

With a shaky hand, you tried to touch or at least pull one of Rose’s garments but she quickly grabbed your hand holding it in a firm grip that could resemble a loving gesture. A very tight and firm gesture as she shook her head. “I can do it myself,” she said her smile never wavering.

Ok, geez. Your fault for trying to not be useless in bed.

It didn't take long for you to be left bare, along with the other two. Rose had left your side to discard her clothes walking to the mirror so she could see herself, she traced along her body trying to show you her every nook and cranny while Henry didn't care for putting on a show. In the few minutes he took, the other took double. She didn't have lingerie, but the way her body looked you sure as heck would think her bra and panties were in some form luxurious. She showed off her chest and torso making the bra seem like a wrapper hiding away candy. God, you weren't surprised Henry would marry her…

The bed creaked as they both joined you once more, and before you knew it you were pulled to be on the older man’s chest. He was sat up straight, forcing you to also be in the same position which was comfortable only thanks to the sheer strength he had to keep you upright without breaking a sweat.

He was warm very warm, his breaths were the quick and his grip was tight. No matter how casual he may try and act, sometimes you think he is just as desperate as Rose. Especially with his arousal evident, tracing over your stomach, as he pressed you close to him; sort of a hug.

Soon you felt the weight of the bed shift behind you and soon a pair of hands held your torso. Rose occupied the space between your neck while the hand she held on your torso dipped between your legs. Her hands were cold, really cold but the temperature soon dialed down as she flicked between your nub as if she knew your body in and out.

It was a bit humiliating being caged by two souls and being fingered by one of them. Especially since the both of them were so quiet, the only thing that could resemble noise in that room could be the sound of Rose’s ministrations with your privates. Not to mention the low moans your traitorous mouth kept releasing with you each soft and gentle rub.

Henry had long ago discarded his hands from the equation letting Rose bind you both together by her own body pressing against yours only leaving a small air pocket for her hand motions. “Is this pleasing you?” she asked between kisses on your neck. If it weren't for your wet cunt or flushed face you would have believed her question as factual. Rose was an uncertain woman sometimes.

“Aw. She is more than pleased. Right?” Henry cooed more like a parent questioning a child. His hands found themselves on your idle hips but you barely registered such touch as Rose kept ‘entertaining’ you. Only till her maneuvered your leg around his thighs did you realize what he was planning.

Opening your eyes you were quickly shushed as the other woman held most of your weight lifting you a bit, with the help of Henry.

“Uh, you know that you don't need to move me like a ragdoll? I can do it on my own-”

“Come on dear. What person would let their lord move an inch? Just enjoy it. Close your eyes… just relax” he whispered before slowly pushing into you. You did feel a bit of a brute entering but after being toyed with for a while you were prepared enough to take it. Take the nice full feeling as you closed your eyes letting your back rest against Rose as she cooed about how good you were being.

As you grew accustomed to his size he started pushing in a bit deeper before starting a nice slow rhythm that made your already warm insides hotter. God, it felt nice… and maybe he agreed too as his grip on your hips tightened. His once calm eyes turned a bit too wide for your comfort. His relaxed smile started to break as he pulled you closer forcing Rose to follow his movements quickly. Still caged but now more huddled than ever, he nibbled at your neck whispering sweet nothings into your ear. Sweet nothings that would literally disgust him if you ever repeated them to him in the morning.

“Please, my lord… let me please you. Fuck. I just went to serve you…” he practically pleaded.

Maybe you were taking advantage of them, but was that really so bad when they were so eager?

[dreamgirievii]

Instant Crush 3

Synopsis: Your families arranged for you to marry each other and boost their companies, they just didn't know you were declared enemies since childhood. Now you're living on the same roof and sharing a bed, you still have to keep up appearances for your parents so they won't suspect that you hate each other. But now after months together, you begin to feel desire for him, and you hate the thoughts that are now invading your head.

Words: 1,8k

Content: female reader, enemies to lovers, oblivious to love trope, arranged marriage, 18+.

part 1 here

part 2 here.

You stayed away from the apartment the whole day, the image of what you had done replaying on your mind like a stuck vinyl. Nothing pushed the taste of his lips away. Or the feeling of his hands bruising your hips. How you were the one who did it first. You sit on the bench near the park, stunned at your own actions, how could you have done that after saying you hated his guts? But God, how good it was, to feel his hands and his lips and the warmth of them. You could feel the slight ache from how hard he grabbed your hips.

Some part of you wanted to go back and finish what you started, but the still coherent part couldn't even move, you were embarrassed, feeling pathetic, angry. And all to yourself.

The sky was shining is the brightest and warmest rays, burning your skin in shades of red, but you couldn’t move, the dreadful feeling inside you were so intense, that all you wanted was to scratch a hole on the ground and crawl into it, and spend the rest of your days rotting. The idea of going back to that apartment you shared and facing him was… excruciating. You have sworn you would hate him forever, with all your might. So why did you kiss him like you wanted to feast on his soul?

The buzz on your phone broke your unstoppable thoughts for a while and made you read the message in an unsaved number so you knew very well who it was. “I am waiting for you, at home. We need to talk.” With a sigh you block your phone again and run a hand over your face, the sweat already accumulated from the hot day of summer. You couldn’t keep hiding forever, you have to face him someday… And if you could choose you would only meet him again in maybe 50 years from the amount of embarrassment you were feeling.

The streets were rather empty for a friday, but besides it was the heat keeping the people tucked inside their houses, above their fans and while you walked back towards your apartment you started to dwell again. What if he hates you more? If now it was the final reason and he would send you away and annul the wedding? A part of you wanted it but the growing part of you, the part that needed him desperately was dreading that thought.

It was common knowledge you two never got along, ever since you were small children you would bicker and throw insults, and that never changed as you grew older. And now after this arranged marriage you thought it would only get worse, you wanted to get worse. To hate him as you thought he hated you. But now you weren’t so sure about it. After the kiss, you were starting to come to your senses for the fact that you actually liked him… and that frightened you.

“Where were you? Why did you run away like that?” The first thing he says as you enter the apartment, Satoru was waiting impatiently for you by the front door. Walking back and forth and replaying that kiss in his mind.

You don’t reply to him at first, too overwhelmed by his presence to think of anything.

“I was… Taking a walk.”

“It’s 96 degrees outside, are you trying to get an insolation, or were you just running from me?” Satoru asks in a cocky tone, like he knew exactly why you ran, and that amused him.

You ran a hand over your forehead and wiped some sweat and looked at him with a pleading look, hoping he would drop the subject and continue with life as if nothing happened earlier. But that would be too good to be true because he says next.

“Look, I just want to talk about ‘that’. Why? Because until earlier I thought you wanted me dead. Last night I tried to convince you to let me be in your life and you practically shoved me aside. Now you kiss me?” He walks around, still shirtless for your misfortune… Or fortune, it is a pretty toned body, you thought. But then you quickly shook your head and sighed, trying to think of an answer.

“I wasn’t thinking, okay? I… I just wasn’t thinking…”

“It’s the first thought of being with me that dreadful to you?” Satoru used a sad tone, that at first you thought it’s mocking until you looked at him again.

“Maybe… Yes. We were supposed to hate each other, as until yesterday I thought we did, but after you practically begged me to let you in my life, I don't know anymore.” You paced around the living room, not wanting to look at him as you let the words out. “I made a mistake, okay? I’m sorry I shouldn't have kissed you, I wasn’t thinking.”

Satoru looked at you with gritted teeth, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you pacing around. “Wasn’t thinking? It felt like a well thought out act, by the way you did it. I don’t know why you hate me so much that the thought of returning my feelings makes you want to rip your own skin but…” What? You stopped mid pacing and looked at him with parted lips and a shocked expression. Did you hear him right? Did he just say ‘Returning my feelings’?. “What?” You ask, in a barely audible voice.

“What, what?” Satoru looks even more confused than you now.

“You said ‘Return your feelings’. You… You like me?” You asked incredulously.

“Did the conversation we had before bed ring any bells?” He scoffs.

You let your mouth hang open as you remembered yesterday's talk when you two were trying to sleep. And then everything made sense. You thought he was just pushing your buttons, you thought he still hates you just as you hated him (in theory).

“Since when?”

He sighed and walked towards you slowly “Ever since the first time I saw you. In that yellow dress with pink dots, your hair in a cute braid, I had to focus myself not to take it in my hands and play with it. I have liked you ever since that day.” He stops in front of you, brushing a strand of your hair beside your ear softly. “You captivated me ever since day one, with your bossy attitude, always telling me to do this and that, fighting me when I refused to do what you told me to.”

“I don’t get it, Satoru. Why did you pretend to hate me all this time? Why didn’t you say anything?” You ask. This can’t be true right? He likes you all this time? Even before your arranged marriage? You couldn’t wrap your mind around that, he had fought you, cursed back at you, and claimed to hate you as much as you did.

“My family has always been interested in your family business, I knew that once they put their hands on your fathers company, it would be over for your family. They’re too greedy, and I've seen what they’ve done to other companies . I couldn’t let this happen to you. And when I overheard one of their conversations, I knew what to do, to push you away so you would hate me, and eventually push your parents away from mine. And that worked until… eight months ago…” He trailed off, playing with your hair as he looked at your shoulder apparently lost in his thoughts.

Your family and Satoru’s were closed, even before you were born, you grew up with him, always in family dinners on his fancy house, until he began to pick on you, making jokes and annoying the hell out of you, so you complained to your father and soon your weren’t around him anymore. The relation between his family and yours grew colder as well, until last year when his father proposed yours for the idea of an arranged marriage to conjoin their companies and improve their sales. And that was exactly what happened. You and Satoru have been married for a few months now, at first this was your worst nightmare . You thought he would keep picking on you and playing his stupid tricks like he used to when you were younger. But that wasn’t what happened, he was respectful of you, of your space and never pushed you like he had done multiple times before. You still thought he disliked you, but were trying to be civil now, until today.

You looked at his eyes, his bright blue eyes that felt like he could see your soul, the same pair of eyes you started to grow mesmerized by. You touched his hand in your hair and dragged it to your cheek. Satoru squeezed your hand in his and leaned even closer to you.

You closed your eyes, his touch warming your heart even more, all you’ve been needing was his touch, even if you denied yourself, but having his skin against yours made you warm on the inside. “You’re so beautiful, brat.” He muttered close to your ear, his warm breath caressing your skin. You opened your eyes again and looked at him, a soft smile creeping in the corner of your lips.

Satoru smiled back at you, his eyes full of affection. He leaned in towards you, cupping both your cheeks and pressed his lips against hers in a soft, tender kiss. Your hand traveled to hold his neck and bring him closer, your chests now pressed together. Satoru hands moved to your waist, relishing the feel of your skin under his fingertips. His lips moved against your slowly, savoring the taste of you. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue gently tracing the seam of your lips and seeking entrance. You opened your lips and intertwined your tongue with his, moaning softly at the feeling. His hands roamed around your body, feeling your curves. The kiss grew more heated and passionate with each passing second. You felt like you could die right now, this is heaven, you thought. It wasn’t like the earlier kiss, no. It was so much better, no guilt, no trepidation… It was only affection and desire, and you knew he felt it too, by the way his hands traveled to grab your ass. You couldn’t help smirk as he kissed you. Maybe liking him back wasn’t so bad, maybe loving him was what you were supposed to do ever since that day he saw you in your yellow dress. And God, you wish you realized it sooner.

[novamariestark]

Can I get a Dean Winchesterx reader using prompts 9 and 10 off list one and prompt 46 off list two, please?

Summary: A quiet date night with Dean gets interrupted.

Warnings: proofread but there's always a mistake after posting 🤣

Word count: 1229

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Prompts: “LITERALLY EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS ILLEGAL!” “Did you just... agree with me?” “I'm actually going to kill you”

[A/N] hope you like 😁

How did we even get here? Sometimes, life takes a strange turn, almost as if the universe decides to have a little fun with you—except you’re not laughing. The night had started so differently. It was supposed to be simple—normal even. Sam had dropped the two of you off at that tiny, run-down bar a few miles outside town, giving you some space for your long-awaited “date night.” You were supposed to have a quiet evening, maybe a few drinks, some laughs. No monsters. No hunts.

But, because some idiot stumbled into the bar, raving about a “monster” they’d seen outside town that meant date night was over. You’d barely finished your drink before you were dragged out, headed straight for where the alleged sighting had taken place. The kicker? Sam had taken the Impala to pick up some supplies, promising to come back later. So here you were, stranded without Baby, crouched behind a row of garbage bins like a couple of amateurs. This is not how you imagined your alone time with Dean would go. You had hoped for something more... normal.

Dean was in front of you, so at least you had something nice to look at. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t look good, but seriously? This was the worst idea he’d had all week—and that was saying something. At first you thought you had heard him wrong but oh no. You had heard him right.

You glanced at him, unable to believe what was coming out of his mouth. “Are you seriously suggesting we rob a cop car?” you asked, trying to keep your voice calm, even though you were two seconds away from smacking some sense into him.

Dean turned to you with that infuriatingly casual grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Borrow,” he corrected, like that made it better. “It’s not illegal if we give it back.”

You stared at him for a moment, your brain struggling to comprehend the sheer level of Dean Winchester logic you were dealing with right now. He had to be joking. But he wasn’t. He was dead serious.

“Okay,” you shot back, your voice dripping with so much sarcasm that it could be visible, “maybe next we can walk into the nearest bank and help ourselves to the entirety of the vault. You know, for funsies.” Dean’s only response was to roll his eyes, still not seeing the problem. You took a deep breath as you waved your hands around for emphasis. “LITERALLY EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS ILLEGAL!”

Honestly, you weren’t sure whether to laugh or scream. You were a hunter—a damn good one. You could handle ghosts, demons, and all manner of monsters that most people couldn’t even fathom. And yet, here you were, stuck with this idiot, debating grand theft auto like it was something minute like, who’s turn it was to wash the dishes.

You gave him the deadliest deadpan look you could muster, hoping he’d catch a hint of how ridiculous he sounded. “I’m actually going to kill you.”

Dean’s grin only widened, those green eyes glimmering in the dim light. “But you’ll look good doing it.”

You rolled your eyes, though you could feel the faint heat creeping up your neck. His charm was both your kryptonite and your fuel—it was hard to stay mad when he looked at you like that, but then again, it also made you want to throw something at him. Preferably something heavy.

Glancing back at the cop car, you sighed. This was ridiculous. Utterly insane. The rational part of your brain screamed at you to shut this down, to come up with a better plan. But the other part—the part that had been on countless hunts with Dean, the part that trusted him more than anyone else—knew you were probably going to go along with it anyway.

“Fine,” you sighed, the word leaving your lips before you even knew you thought it.

The second it slipped out, you mentally kicked yourself. Seriously? Fine? Fine? Really? That’s all it took? One look from him, and you were ready to throw common sense out the window? You weren’t fine. Yet somehow, here you were, agreeing to what had to be the stupidest plan Dean Winchester had ever come up with. And that was a long list.

Dean’s voice cut through your spiralling thoughts, pulling you back to the present. “Did you just... agree with me?” His tone was laced with mock disbelief, but that smirk—oh, that damn smirk—said it all. He was enjoying this way too much, and it didn’t help that the glint in his eyes practically sparkled.

You hated that look. The one that always made your stomach do flips, like a rollercoaster you swore you’d never ride again, but kept getting back on anyway. It wasn’t just the smirk. It was Dean. He had this magnetic pull, and no matter how much your brain screamed No!, your heart—and apparently your mouth—tended to betray you in his presence.

“Don’t get used to it,” you muttered, crossing your arms, trying to regain some control over the situation. You weren’t completely rolling over here. You’d follow him into the fire, sure—but you’d still give him hell for it.

Dean winked, already turning his attention back to the car, pulling out his lock-picking tools and started to unlock the car, “Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you,” he whispered, shooting you another wink and that cheeky smirk of his that sometimes you wanted to smack and others, kiss until you both looked like smurfs.

Your heart fluttered in spite of itself as you tried to ignore the way he seemed so damn... charming while committing a felony. His words floated around your head. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you.” Oh, you knew exactly what he was implying. Your lips twitched involuntarily. Damn him.

You crossed your arms, glaring at the back of his head, “What? My criminal record?”

Dean finally got the lock to pop, a click breaking the silence. He stood up, turning back to you with that grin, “See? Easy as pie.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you love it,” he said, with the cocky tone in his voice because he knew he wasn’t wrong. You hated how much he knew it, how much he knew you.

You took a step closer to him, eyes narrowing as you shot him a pointed look. “Just get in the damn car, Winchester.”

Dean chuckled as he pulled the door open, “After you, sweetheart,” he said, gesturing to the passenger seat.

You climbed into the car, the faint smell of cheap air freshener and coffee mixing with the cool air of the night. Dean slid in beside you, looking far too pleased with himself. The engine roared to life, and as the tires crunched over gravel, you couldn’t help but shoot him another sideways glance.

“So, what’s the plan, genius?” you asked, crossing your arms as if that might protect you.

Dean shrugged, “Find the monster, kill the monster, return the car—no harm, no foul.”

“If we end up in jail, you’re explaining this to Sam.” You said, leaning back into the seat, propping your elbow on the door, and resting your chin on your palm.

[shitsndgiggs]

hi girll !

i saw that you post the long distance relationship with hector that was my request..so thanks 🫶🏼🫶🏼

is that possible to have one more imagine with hector ? like something the reader is an influencer and she became famous really quickly and get a lot of followers. and one day hector dms her and they start talking and few weeks after she went to barcelona for his birthday and to enjoy time with him and they are really closed. (i don’t have a lot of inspiration but at the end, they finished in love…)

thanks !!

OUT IN THE OPEN - HÉCTOR FORT

…

Héctor Fort x influencer! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

My rise to internet fame was nothing short of wild. One day, I was posting beauty tips and lifestyle content for my small group of followers, and the next, my account blew up overnight.

Suddenly, I was an influencer, with brand deals, interviews, and thousands of people watching my every move.

It was surreal, to say the least. But nothing—and I mean nothing—could have prepared me for that DM.

Hector Fort. Yes, the Hector Fort. Barcelona's rising football star, DMing me out of the blue.

It started so casually, with him commenting on one of my photos where I was in Barcelona during a quick weekend getaway: "Next time you’re here, let me give you a real tour of the city."

At first, I thought it was a prank. Maybe some fan account or a really convincing fake profile. But no, the blue checkmark was there, and after doing some internet sleuthing, I confirmed it was him. The real Hector.

I stared at the message for what felt like an eternity, trying to figure out how to respond without sounding like a complete fangirl. I typed out something witty: "A real tour, huh? Is that a promise?"

From there, it snowballed. What started as simple back-and-forth messages turned into daily conversations.

We talked about everything—football, life in the spotlight, my sudden fame, and his matches. It felt natural, easy, like I had known him for years.

One night, about two weeks in, Hector mentioned his birthday was coming up. He was casual about it, but there was an invitation hidden in his words.

"You should come to Barcelona for my birthday," he texted me one evening. "I’ll show you that tour I promised."

The flight to Barcelona felt like it took forever. It wasn’t my first time in the city, but it was definitely the most nerve-wracking. I was finally going to meet Hector in person.

I arrived in Barcelona a day before his birthday, and we planned to meet up at his place later that night.

My stomach churned with nerves as I approached the door, my heart racing in anticipation.

The door swung open, and there he was—Hector, looking even better than in his photos. His smile was warm and inviting, and I instantly felt a little more at ease.

“You made it,” he said, pulling me into a hug, his voice a little muffled as he spoke into my hair.

“I did,” I smiled, relaxing into the hug. “Happy early birthday, by the way.”

“Thanks,” he grinned, pulling back just enough to look at me, his eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and something else I couldn’t quite place. “Come on, let’s make this weekend unforgettable.”

The next few days were a blur of birthday celebrations, late-night talks, and just enjoying each other’s company. Hector was exactly like he’d been over the phone—funny, thoughtful, and always making me laugh.

On the day of his match, I sat in the stands with the VIPs, watching him warm up on the field. I’d never been much of a football fan before, but watching Hector out there, so focused and in his element, made my heart swell with pride.

I was completely lost in the game, cheering him on with every touch of the ball.

When Barcelona scored, I jumped to my feet, clapping and shouting with the crowd. Hector glanced toward the stands, searching until his eyes met mine.

Even from the pitch, I saw the faint smile spread across his face. That moment made my heart flutter.

As the final whistle blew, signaling Barcelona’s victory, the players began celebrating on the field. The atmosphere was electric, with fans singing and chanting.

I watched Hector as he made his way toward the tunnel, but before he disappeared into the locker room, he turned and started walking in my direction.

My heart pounded as he came closer, his eyes locked on mine. I could feel people staring, whispers swirling around me, but I didn’t care. Hector reached the edge of the stands and smiled up at me.

“You came all this way,” he said softly, his voice carrying over the noise of the stadium.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I said, smiling down at him, my heart racing in my chest.

He hesitated for a moment, glancing around at the crowd of fans and cameras. Then, he stepped forward, reaching for my hand. “You know people are going to talk, right?” he asked, his voice low and serious. “They already are.”

I glanced around, noticing the people already snapping photos and recording us. I could see the headlines in my head, but I didn’t care. I squeezed his hand and met his gaze.

“Let them talk,” I said firmly, smiling. “I don’t care.”

Hector’s face lit up, his eyes softening. Without another word, he leaned in and kissed me—right there in front of thousands of people.

His lips were warm and soft against mine, and for a moment, the entire stadium seemed to fade away.

The crowd around us erupted in cheers and gasps, but all I could focus on was Hector. His kiss was gentle but firm, filled with unspoken feelings we hadn’t yet put into words.

When we finally pulled apart, Hector grinned at me, his hand still holding mine. “Guess it’s official now, huh?”

I laughed, breathless. “I’d say so.”

Hector chuckled, giving my hand a squeeze before heading back toward the locker room. But not before turning back and flashing me a playful wink.