#she asks him if he seriously just said that

[isaadore]

MR. AND MRS. PERFECTLY FINE LUKE HUGHES

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ pairing luke hughes x reader

SUMMARY you and luke were the nhl’s golden couple; young, beautiful, and deeply in love. your wedding was named the wedding of the century, and when you welcomed your son, liam, the world saw nothing but a perfect family. but behind closed doors, perfection was an illusion. the man you once trusted with your whole heart started confiding in someone else, leaving you feeling like a stranger in your own marriage. now, you’re playing pretend for the sake of your child, but how long can you keep up the act before the cracks become too deep to repair? word count 1.7k

warnings heavy angst, emotional cheating, marriage issues

note i cried while writing this ☹️ u guys know i can't be too nice and write fluff all the time... the title is a reference to taylor's song, "mr. perfectly fine"!

LH43 MASTERLIST MAIN MASTERLIST

THE CAMERA FLASHES were blinding, but you didn’t flinch. You had mastered this performance, smiling just wide enough and standing just close enough to Luke to make it believable. To the rest of the world, you were still that couple.

Liam was nestled in your arms, his small fingers curling into the fabric of your dress as he yawned. Luke had one hand resting on your back, the other adjusting the little Devils hat sitting atop Liam’s dark curls. A perfect family photo.

“You guys look amazing,” one of the photographers gushed. “Seriously, still the best-looking couple in the NHL.”

You forced a laugh. “Oh, stop,” you said, brushing a hand over Liam’s back.

Luke chuckled beside you, his voice smooth and relaxed. But only you knew it was rehearsed. “I mean, she makes it easy,” he teased, sending you a grin that made your stomach twist.

It was second nature now: pretending, smiling, playing the role of the wife who still adored her husband. For Liam’s sake, for Luke’s career, for the image you had spent years curating.

But the truth sat heavy in your chest behind the practiced smiles and forced public appearances.

Luke was no longer yours.

The car ride home was quiet. Liam had fallen asleep in his car seat, his little snores filling the silence. Luke was driving, one hand lazily gripping the wheel, the other tapping against his thigh.

“You okay?” he asked after a while, sparing you a glance.

You scoffed softly, looking out the window. “You really wanna ask me that?”

His fingers clenched around the wheel. “Look, I know—”

“Do you?” you cut in, turning to face him. “Because I don’t think you do, Luke.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he said nothing. Just stared at the road ahead like if he looked at you, he’d have to face what he did.

What he ruined.

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “I just—I keep thinking about it. How long did it take before she became the one you turned to instead of me?”

“Come on, don’t do this,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

“No, I wanna know.” Your voice wavered, but you pushed through. “Was it when I was up all night with Liam while you were on the road? Or was it when I told you I felt like we were losing each other and you said I was overthinking it?”

Luke swallowed hard, his knuckles white on the wheel. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Then what was it like?”

Silence.

You let out a bitter laugh. “Right. Thought so.”

Luke sighed, pressing his lips together like he was debating his next words carefully. “I never meant to hurt you.”

You turned back toward the window, the streetlights blurring together as tears welled in your eyes. “Yeah, well. You did.”

Pretending was easier in front of Liam.

At four years old, he was too young to understand why Mommy and Daddy were different now. Why there were nights Luke didn’t come home and why your smiles didn’t reach your eyes anymore.

So you did what you had to. Held Luke’s hand at Liam’s hockey practices. Sat beside him at team events. Let him kiss your temple when cameras were near, even when the touch burned.

And when Liam was asleep, when the house was quiet, you sat on opposite ends of the bed, drowning in unspoken words. Drowning in what could have been.

You still loved him. God, you still loved him.

But he had chosen someone else.

Maybe not in the way that left lipstick stains on his collar or unfamiliar perfume on his skin. But he had given parts of himself, parts that were yours, to another woman. And that was something you couldn’t forgive.

Not now.

Maybe not ever.

A COUPLE OF DAYS LATER

Liam had been asleep for over an hour, his favourite stuffed dinosaur tucked under his arm, the steady rise and fall of his little chest the only thing keeping you grounded. You had stayed by his bedside longer than necessary, just watching him, tracing the soft curls at his temple with gentle fingers.

Because once you left his room, once you stepped back into the reality of your marriage, the silence would be suffocating again.

And it was.

Luke was in the kitchen when you finally emerged, leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone. His head lifted when he heard your footsteps, but whatever was in his eyes disappeared before you could catch it.

“Liam go down okay?” His voice was casual, like you were just two people coexisting, like there wasn’t an ocean of resentment between you.

You nodded, moving toward the fridge just for something to do, some excuse not to meet his gaze. “Yeah. He was exhausted.”

Luke hummed in response. Another stretch of silence. You grabbed a bottle of water, twisted the cap, and took a sip. Your wedding band caught the light as you moved, and for a brief moment, you hated the way it still sat so comfortably on your finger.

“I was thinking of taking him to the rink this weekend,” Luke said finally. “Get some ice time in, just the two of us.”

You swallowed hard. You had once loved watching them together, father and son, sharing something that was so deeply ingrained in Luke’s DNA. But now, every moment that didn’t include you felt like a reminder that you weren’t part of Luke’s world anymore. Not really.

“That’s fine,” you said evenly, setting the bottle down with more force than necessary.

Luke sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Can we—” He stopped, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

You let out a sharp laugh, humourless. “Right. Because talking is something we’re great at these days.”

His jaw tensed. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, Luke. Maybe something that actually means something?” Your voice was rising now, but you didn’t care. “Because I’m tired. I’m so tired of pretending everything is fine when we both know it’s not.”

Luke exhaled slowly, staring at the floor like it held all the answers. “I never wanted this.”

You let that sink in. “Neither did I.”

And yet, here you were.

Luke didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stood there, staring at you like he was trying to piece together the right thing to say. Like there was a right thing to say.

But there wasn’t.

You shook your head, stepping back. “You don’t get to act like this is some tragic accident, Luke. Like this just happened to us.” Your voice wavered, but you kept going. “You made a choice. You kept making that choice.”

His jaw clenched, and for the first time tonight, something in his expression cracked. “I never meant to—”

“Don’t.” The word was sharp, slicing through the air between you. “Don’t tell me you never meant to hurt me. That doesn’t change the fact that you did.”

Luke ran a hand down his face, exhaling roughly. “I just—” He shook his head, like he couldn’t even explain it to himself. “I felt like I was drowning, and she—”

Your stomach twisted. “She what?”

He hesitated.

You let out a hollow laugh. “Go on. Say it.”

Luke’s eyes met yours, desperate and full of something you weren’t sure you recognized anymore. “She listened. She understood.”

And there it was.

You inhaled sharply, looking away. “Right.”

He took a step forward, but you didn’t move. “It wasn’t about her,” he insisted. “It was about us. About how we stopped—”

“Stopped what?” you snapped, meeting his gaze again. “Stopped trying? Stopped making you feel special? Stopped putting you first?”

Luke flinched, and a bitter part of you relished it. Because God, the hypocrisy.

“I gave you everything,” you whispered. “I fought for us. Even when you started pulling away, even when I felt like I was losing you, I held on.” You swallowed hard, voice thick. “But I was holding on alone.”

Luke looked like he wanted to argue. To fix it. But it was too late for that.

“You want to know the worst part?” you asked, your voice quieter now. “It’s not that you betrayed me. It’s that you needed her more than you needed me.”

Silence.

Luke’s face crumbled, and for a second, he looked like the boy you fell in love with. The one who used to kiss you like you were the only thing keeping him upright. The one who promised forever.

But forever was an illusion.

You let out a breath, forcing yourself to meet his gaze one last time. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

Luke’s lips parted, panic flashing across his face. “You don’t mean that.”

But you did.

Luke shook his head, stepping closer, his voice tight with desperation. “No. We can fix this.”

You laughed, but there was no humour in it. “How, Luke?”

“We just—” He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “We just keep going. We don’t give up. We have Liam, we have—” His voice cracked. “We have us.”

You swallowed hard.

Because that was the thing, wasn’t it? There was no us anymore.

But there was Liam.

There was the life you had built, the picture-perfect family the world knows and loves. If you walked away now, if you stopped pretending, it would all come crashing down.

Liam would start asking questions. The media would speculate. Your carefully constructed life would become something for people to pick apart.

And you weren’t ready for that.

Not yet.

So you inhaled, steadying yourself. Forced the words back down, shoved the pain into the same locked box where you had been keeping it for months.

Luke watched you, waiting for the final blow. But instead, you did what you had always done.

You smoothed out the edges.

You forced a breath, forced a nod. “Okay.”

Luke blinked, like he hadn’t expected that answer. “Okay?”

You met his gaze, ignoring the way your stomach twisted at the flicker of hope in his eyes. “We keep going.”

Something in his shoulders sagged. “We can make it work.”

You didn’t agree. Didn’t disagree. Just took another breath and nodded again.

Because this was what you did.

You smiled for the cameras. Held his hand at events. Sat beside him at Liam’s practices, feeling his knee brush against yours, pretending the touch didn’t make your skin crawl.

You kept up the performance.

Even when it hurt.

‎‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎ LH43 MASTERLIST ✷ MAIN MASTERLIST

[acphengene]

Sweets

₊ ⁺ pairing: Jungwon x afab!reader

₊ ⁺ genre: soulmate au, pining, tiny bit of angst and as always sappy shit

₊ ⁺ word count: 3.3k

₊ ⁺ the second story for this little au i decided to throw together. thank you all so much for supporting, and once again let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list

₊ ⁺ Jake ₊ ⁺ Jungwon ₊ ⁺ Jay ₊ ⁺ Sunoo ₊ ⁺ Heeseung ₊ ⁺ Niki ₊ ⁺ Sunghoon ₊ ⁺

When Jungwon got his mark it had taken him a while to figure out what it was. In the beginning he thought he was just having very vivid cravings for sweets or some very specific lasagna he had never had. But after his mother had dragged him to the doctor the secret was finally revealed, his mark was taste.

It could’ve been a lot worse, he knew that. And if he was being honest he found it fun most of the time, the only downside was that you ate breakfast when he ate dinner and the two things rarely suited each other very well.

He had a theory that you deliberately ate the sweetest things in the mornings for that exact reason, but it was a hard one to prove when the two of you hadn’t met yet. But as time passed he learned to eat early or late, all depending on whether or not he would want dessert before or after his dinner.

When he was on I-land the food was whatever young boys wanted to make after a long day. Sure Jay did his best but in the end, they were young and instant ramen seemed like the easy way to go.

It had ended up getting so bad you started eating salads for the first time in your life, no doubt an indicator that he seriously needed to take care of himself and his health. He had laughed at that but tried to listen.

When he debuted he knew he had a platform bigger than most, so he did his best to make sure he was eating whenever he was on camera. It could be small things and snacks, maybe even full on meals, because maybe you were a fan watching along? He hoped you were.

And then he went viral… for something as basic as strawberries with chocolate.

“Dude it’s everywhere…” Sunoo said as he checked weverse in the middle of dance practice. He hid his head in his hands.

“I know” he groaned. “God it’s so stupid, of everything I could be eating it had to be the most generic thing ever”

Jake laughed. “It could be worse, it could’ve been bread with butter or plain rice”

“Any response yet? Like did she maybe eat it too? You know, as some kind of bat-signal?” Heeseung asked as he threw a soul-bandaid on his knee, it was hurting yet again.

He just shook his head. No, there was nothing. You liked sweets, he knew that much, but you currently had an obsession with some kind of pastry he himself had never tried and unfortunately not chocolate covered strawberries.

But he now knew what he had to do to go viral, so he milked the meme for absolutely everything it had. Unfortunately you seemed to be annoyed at all the chocolate covered things he ate, and got the habit of eating a slice of lemon shortly after.

He hated it, mostly because it was a disgusting combination but also because it led to a lot of wierd facial expressions, all who became memes for engene to utilize.

He threw himself in bed and yelled into the pillows. “You okay?” Sunghoon said as he had overheard the commotion.

“Yeah it’s just getting annoying,” Jungwon said. “It’s been years and I’m no way near finding her”

“Don’t worry too much, she’ll come running with years worth of memes when the times right” the older man laughed as his leader.

“I’m sorry Hoon” he said silently, as he picked at a thread in one of his pillows that had come loose.

Sunghoon just shrugged: “don’t be, I’m used to it. Now come down for dinner before Jay comes up here and rip both of our heads off”

He knew that Sunghoon was right, and he knew he should be great full for you being out there communicating one way or another.

So how did he show you where in the world he was? He started eating nothing but Korean, he mixed and matched and had fun with the food. Sometimes waiting for retaliation if you didn’t like whatever he ordered, but it never really came.

One night while on a set you however finally ate something as simple as kimchi fried rice but it made him ekstatic.

“I think she figured it out” he said to the only couple of the group, as Jake cuddled close to his soulmate.

“You sure?” He asked and the two perked up.

Jungwon nodded. “She’s eating kimchi fried rice” and I think she might’ve made it herself, you know with a package of kimchi”

“That’s a good sign isn’t it?” Niki said as he reached out for his string and gave it a tug. His own way of showing he thought of his other half.

“Yeah I think so” he nodded excitedly.

You had indeed figured it out, as you had grown up you decided to stop fooling around when it came to your mark, even though you sometimes couldn’t help it. But when the Korean food became the only thing he ate, you had to think that maybe, just maybe he for once was try to tell you something other than the fact that he liked chocolate.

So you researched recipes, sure you worked with sweets and baked goods but you did have experience with the more savory side of the culinary kitchen. And Korean seemed to fit so you tested that out, all the while you researched the culture, the language and of course the sweets.

It didn’t take long for you to book a ticket to Seoul, desperate to try some of the delicious meals your other half kept eating. Some of your friends tried to convince you to just stay back home and test the recipes there, but they just never hit the spot.

As you touched down the only thing you knew all you needed was some type of comfort food, so you went searching.

The days you spent in Seoul made Jungwon extracting and almost unable to concentrate, he knew you were close, he could feel it, taste it.

Whenever he had the chance he went searching for you in the restaurants and cafes. On that specific day you were a little sad, he was harder to find than you had expected, and when you were sad you craved sweets.

In a little stand not far from your hotel you found a lady who sold tanghulu, and the treat looked delicious. And while your ordered it a group of younger girls came and asked for the one thing you had done your best to avoid; “strawberries with chocolate”

You saw how the lady herself rolled her eyes, and when you asked about it they all tried explaining it was a trend for fans, all because this one leader kept eating chocolate on absolutely everything,

As they spoke you felt something pull on your heartstrings and for some reason you decided to search it up. It could after all just be a coincidence… right?

There was no doubt in your mind, it had to be him. But then again you couldn’t help but feel delusional, just because both your soulmate and Jungwon, leader of Enhypen, both liked the same type of foods didn’t mean they were the same person.

You would have to test it out, and god you already felt with both his and your tastebuds.

Another live, another slice of lemon, but this time it had a hint of chili as well. You had been out of control lately and he hated it, where you had previously been somewhat predictable you had now just completely lost your head.

“I’m getting sick and tired of you spitting out my food” Jay said with judging look one evening.

“How do you think I’m feeling?” He just answered with hopeless eyes.

“Have you thought about making a diary? You know for all the wierd things they’re doing?” Sunoo asked.

If he was honest he had considered it, it just seemed silly to do so. He sighed. “I got nothing else to loose I guess”

Unlike Jungwon you had that thought as soon as you suspected him of being yours. And every day, close to whenever you suspected his last meal to have been you made a list of everything he had eaten, and everything you had too.

You knew it would be frustrating with the insane amount of lemons you just kept eating, but what was a girl to do?

One day you got a notification from Weverse, “I hate lemons” was all he wrote and you smiled harder than you ever had and then you plopped the infamous strawberry into your mouth.

Jungwon almost fell down his chair. His hands were shaking and he felt how he suddenly had tears in his eyes.

“What?” Heeseung looked at him as his eyes glazed over.

“I - I don’t know” Jungwon whispered. He didn’t dare to hope that this meant what he thought it might. But as soon as all there was left was the after taste, it was replaced with a chocolate cookie, that then was replaced by a chocolate covered almond.

Jungwon left his members behind and hid his face in his hands in one of the corners of the room. Heeseung was by his side a second later.

“Hey, what’s going on” He pulled the younger man into his chest as he held him close while he cried. He sent the remaining boys panicked eyes, and they made sure to empty out the room to give their leader a bit of privacy.

“She knows who I am” Jungwon sobbed into his hyungs chest and the comment gained loud cheers from all of his brothers as he tried to catch his breath.

“I’m so jealous!” Sunoo said, and couldn’t help but worry about his own soulmates heart as he knew their vision had just flashed every color under the sun.

“So what do we do now?” Niki asked.

They looked at one another but the room remained quiet, none of them had any idea what so ever. The mark the two of you shared made it a little harder to locate one another. Unless you ate something, somewhere in the city that Jungwon visited regularly, it was close to impossible. Especially since you couldn’t just walk through the front door at HYBE.

“I guess I’ll just have to wait until she figures something out” He answered as he dried his eyes. “Not let’s get back to work!” The kitten had once again become the leader.

You spent the next few days eating the same desert at almost 2 am every night. He knew it meant something, so he sent assistants out every night to collect anything even a little similar to the sweet, at every cafe close to their office and dorm. But every day he had to fall asleep disappointed, and you fell asleep with a stomach ache.

The guys were working on a comeback and had been in the studio until the late hours of the night, some might even call it in the early mornings. Heeseungs directions were almost as strict as Woozi’s were, at least if Jay were to believe Jun, as he had sat in on a session to provide feedback. The many sweets did however cause the guys to expect it every night, especially since Jungwon always was the one paying for them.

One night they were on their way home, this time the guys themselves stopped at yet another open cafe. Niki and Jake went in to pick up the large order.

“Picking up for Sim” Niki said with a somewhat low voice despite the almost empty room. He heard Jake laughed quietly, and he got a pointed finger at a young woman hitting her head against the table in front of her, as she stared at a raspberry cake.

“God I don’t wanna eat you” you kept repeating. You were so sick of the buttery dough, and the crunchy shell with the both sweet and somewhat bitter raspberry filling.

“You okay?” Jake asked.

You lifted your head towards the two caps and masks of what seemed like young men. You gave them a smile and a nod before groaning as you once again hit your head against the table. Niki laughed loudly.

“I’m not, I’m so fucking sick of eating this shitty desert” You said, forehead still resting against the wood.

The two friends were shocked at your boldness and of how you seemed to disregard the woman behind the counter. Niki was about to apologize when the woman told them that it was okay. She felt honored that you had chosen one of her cakes as the one to eat.

Niki smiled. “Taste mark, huh?” He asked and you sent them a thumbs up before dipping your finger in the raspberry cream.

“This is the only bakery in the city that makes this dessert with the berry. It seems that would be a given, but noooo… He insists on trying ever other cake with the taste” you said dramatically.

Jake took off so fast all you could do was stare after him in chock as he ran out of the shop as fast as he could and yanked the door to the car open. “Won, get the fuck in there!” He yelled.

“Really not in the mood okay, just give me my cake and let’s get home” he said as he pulled his hat down over his eyes.

“Nope!” Jake said as he pulled it off of him. He tried fixing his hair with his spit.

“That’s disgusting,” Sunghoon said with a grimace.

“You’re going in there, right. fucking. now” He opened his seat belt and pulled him out of the vehicle, before shutting the door after the man, to shut up the protest from the remaining members.

Jake pushed Jungwon all the way into the cafe, kicked him inside the door and grabbed Niki before shutting the door behind his leader, holding it shut.

“Jesus fuck Jake, what’s your problem? I said I would pay didn’t I?” He yelled through the glass where his two friends remained and did nothing more than to gesture that he should go.

The chaos had gotten your attention. And you looked up at the blond with eyes as piercing and special as a cat, and your breath hitched. Behind the window next to you stood none other than Kim Sunoo, with no mask and gestured for you to get the fuck up.

You coughed, hoping to get his attention, but he kept his back to you.

“Rasberry tarte?” You asked with a shaking voice as he grabbed the box in front of him.

He turned with a smile. "Exactly! How did you…” And as his eyes, as beautiful as crescent moons met yours, he dropped the box. “Know…”

“Holy shit” Was all he said before he bent down to pick up the cakes. You were next to him within a second.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I should’ve said something else, or just tabbed you on your shoulder or something instead of startling you”

He just stared at you while you kept rambling, as you tried to scoop up the cakes. God you looked beautiful, and the faint smell of raspberry made him almost lose his mind. He knew that was the same taste that was currently coated on his tongue. He wondered if it tasted sweeter in your mouth than in his, and had to mentally hit himself before he got carried away.

Instead of stopping your rambling with words he just grabbed onto you and pulled you into his arms. You screamed in surprise, but as soon as he started laughing, well so did you.

“You’re here” he kept repeating, and everytime he did you answered; “I am”.

None of you didn’t seem to mind that he had dragged you through all the cakes, all he did was to bury his head in the crook of your neck, as he laughed in pure bliss and utter disbelief.

The guys had celebrated and laughed at both of your expenses. It had been a mess trying to get the two of you cleaned up before the chauffeur would allow you in the car.

As you all got back to the dorm he constantly had your hands in his as he stroked your knuckles with his thumb, the gesture calmed you and made it absolutely impossible for you to stop smiling.

Jungwon went to his room and returned with a set of slacks for you to change into, all the while he to changed out of the cake smothered outfit.

“We’re matching” you said as you made a pirouette as you entered his room. The matching outfits had definitely been a part of his plan, and he absolutely adored the way you looked in his clothes. He made a mental note of always making sure that the two of you would always be matching.

“You look good” He said as he pulled on the large hoodie, pulling you towards the bed.

You couldn’t help but laugh nervously. This was after all very new to you, to the both of you. He pushed a lock of your hair behind your ear and send you a half smile, as he hummed a tone.

“So… Any questions?” You asked as you pulled on his fingers, you wanted to hold his hand, but had trouble actually doing it.

Instead he did it for you, and intertwined his fingers with yours, you hummed by the skin to skin contact.

“I do have one…” He said and couldn’t help but laugh. “Why so many lemons?”

You laughed, it was loud and uncontrollable, and he couldn’t help but wish he were to hear that sound for the rest of his life. He smiled at the sound, and you saw how his eyes were shining like little stars when he looked at you.

When you catched your breath you told him: “Well I’m a pastry chef, so my profession is basically just baking and tasting cakes”

That made a lot of sense.

“And your obsession with chocolate” he was just about to protest when you held a finger to his lips to shut him up, “kind of ruined that a little. The lemons was a palate cleanser, and a small fuck you for ruining my taste tests”

He just smiled, as utterly bitter the days had been when the two of you ate sweets with lemon in between, it was also the reason the two of you had found one another. He was grateful.

“I’m sorry” he said as he laid down on the bed. “That must’ve been annoying”

You shrugged before joining him. “It’s okay, it let me here in the end, so there’s not much to complain about really”

His smile haltered and you saw how his eyes turned sad.

“What’s wrong?” You asked right before you stroked his cheek.

He leaned into your touch, savoring the warmth. “When are you leaving?” he asked with a small voice.

You laid down on the mattress and looked up at him, forcing him to meet your eyes. “Well that depends on you”

He perked up a little, and you ‘boob’ed’ his nose earning you a dimpled smile before you continued: “I’m done with school, so in reality the only thing kicking me home is my visa. Honestly I only need a job. But something tells me the sweet old auntie from tonight might offer me one on the spot after tonight”

It was a pretty good story, and he couldn’t wait to tell it over and over again as the two of you grew older together.

“We better drop by tomorrow then, but for now I wanna know everything there is to know about you my sweet”

“My sweet, I like that!” You said. You saw how his eyes lingered at your mouth, and before you had a chance to talk yourself out of it, you closed the distance between the two of you.

He savored the softness of your lips, the way your breath became faster, and how he could almost hear the beating of you heart. You really was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

Taglist: @why4anne @juicygirl4life @azzy02 @bluxjun @why-did-i-just-do-this

note: thank you all so so much for the response to this series, i honestly cant belive it! please reachout with feedback, theories or if you wanna be added to the taglist!

[woso-story]

Alexia Meeting Your Son Theo

Alexia Putellas x Reader

The afternoon sun cast a golden glow over the park as you arrived hand-in-hand with Theo. Your little boy, excited as ever, swung your arm playfully as his eyes scanned the playground. But your gaze was elsewhere—on the woman sitting on a bench, waiting for you both. Alexia, your girlfriend of three months, stood up the moment she saw you, her face lighting up with a warm smile.

Taking a deep breath, you crouched down to Theo's level. "Remember what I told you? This is Alexia."

Theo looked up at her, curiosity shining in his big eyes. "Hi, Alexia!"

Alexia knelt to meet him at eye level. "Hola, Theo! It’s so nice to finally meet you. Your mama talks about you all the time."

Theo giggled and glanced at you. "Really?"

You ruffled his hair. "Really."

---

With the introductions out of the way, the three of you made your way to the playground. Theo ran ahead, climbing up the jungle gym with ease. Then, he turned back and called out, "Alexia, come up here!"

You chuckled, expecting her to politely decline, but to your surprise, Alexia grinned and followed him up. The sight was almost surreal—Alexia Putellas, captain of Barcelona and the Spanish National Team, crawling through a jungle gym meant for children. You couldn’t hold back your laughter when she struggled a little with the tight spaces.

"You okay there, champ?" you teased.

She shot you a playful glare. "I’ve faced defenders bigger than this, but I think this might be my toughest opponent yet."

Theo giggled uncontrollably before leading her to the slide. "We go down together, okay?"

Alexia nodded seriously, as if she had just received tactical instructions from her coach. But as she slid down, her long legs barely fitting, she landed with a dramatic plop. Theo clapped his hands, delighted.

---

As he ran off to play with some other kids, Alexia came to sit beside you on the bench, shaking her head in amusement.

"He likes you," you said softly, watching your son happily interact with the other children.

Alexia smiled. "He's an amazing kid. You've done such a great job raising him."

Warmth spread through your chest at her words. Most people had been hesitant about dating a mother, but not Alexia. She accepted everything about you, without hesitation.

Before long, Theo came running back, his clothes covered in dust and his face glowing with excitement. "Can we get ice cream?"

You exchanged a glance with Alexia, who immediately nodded. "Of course."

At the ice cream stand, Theo was set on getting his usual chocolate until Alexia ordered stracciatella. Eyes wide, he changed his mind. "I want what Alexia has!"

She chuckled. "Good choice."

As the three of you sat down to eat, Theo took one bite before exclaiming, "This is the best ever! From now on, I always want stracciatella!"

Alexia winked at you. "Looks like I’ve converted him."

---

As the afternoon stretched on, you noticed the effortless way Alexia fit into your little world. She wasn’t just there to impress you—she was genuinely interested in Theo, in his stories about dinosaurs and superheroes, in the way he built castles in the sandbox. You found yourself falling even more for her, seeing how kind and patient she was.

Later that evening, Alexia drove you both back home. You hesitated for a moment before asking, "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"I'd love to."

While you prepared the food, Theo eagerly dragged Alexia to his room to show her his toys. Every now and then, you peeked in to see them playing together, Alexia just as immersed in his world as he was. At one point, she caught your eye and flashed you a smile so full of warmth that your heart fluttered.

"Mama, look! Alexia is really good at building towers!" Theo beamed, showing you the structure they had built with his blocks.

"She’s full of surprises, isn’t she?" you teased, making Alexia laugh.

After dinner, you took Theo to his room to get him ready for bed, but he had one last request. "I want Alexia to read me a story too."

You smiled and went to ask her. Without hesitation, she agreed. She chose a book about a brave little lion who learned to trust again after facing hardship. As she read, her voice was soft yet expressive, and Theo listened with rapt attention, his little fingers grasping the edge of the blanket.

Half an hour later, Theo was sound asleep, his breathing even. You and Alexia tiptoed out of the room, closing the door softly behind you.

---

Back in the living room, you turned to her. "Thank you. For everything today."

She pulled you into her arms and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. "It was my pleasure. I’d love to spend more time with you and Theo."

Your heart swelled. "I’d love that too."

The rest of the evening was spent curled up together on the couch, watching a movie in comfortable silence. At one point, Alexia reached for your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours. When it was time for her to leave, she kissed you softly before stepping out into the night.

As you climbed into bed, a smile lingered on your lips. Everything had gone so perfectly. It felt like the beginning of something truly special—something real, something lasting. A future that felt brighter than ever before.

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

FEAR OF WATER

rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: after an abusive past, y/n struggles with toxic communication in her relationship with rafe. when fear pushes her away, love teaches her to stay.

based on this ask !! this was a really angsty and emotional one to write and i LOVED it anon, so thank you, and apologies it’s taken a while <3

(check out my other rafe cameron & drew starkey works here !!)

WARNINGS: angst w/ a comforting ending, slightly toxic!reader (unintentional), emotional abuse (by readers ex), trauma responses, arguing, crying, cursing, soft!rafe, fear of letting people in, flinching, detailed descriptions of emotional abuse & manipulation. (lmk if i missed anything !!)

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

THIRD PERSON +

The slam of the front door rattled the picture frames on the walls, the weight of Y/N’s footsteps heavy against the wooden floor as she stormed into the kitchen. Her hands were shaking—she hated that they always did when she was this upset. It made her feel weak, even when the anger inside her burned so hot she thought it might consume her entirely.

Rafe followed behind, slower, guarded. He had that look in his eyes again—the one that made her stomach twist with guilt before she could even process why. The look of someone who was tired, not from the fight itself, but from the exhaustion of never knowing how the next argument would go.

“I don’t get why you’re acting like this,” she spat, her voice sharper than she intended. “You know exactly what you did.”

Rafe exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. “Y/N, I don’t—what did I do? Just tell me.”

His calmness made her angrier. It made her feel unheard, like he wasn’t taking this seriously. Her brain was wired to expect resistance, to expect gaslighting, to prepare for the fight that had always followed in her past relationship.

“You said you’d call, and you didn’t. You do this all the time, Rafe. You make promises, and then you break them, like it doesn’t even matter.”

“That’s not fair,” he said carefully. “I got caught up at work. I should’ve called, I’m sorry, but it’s not like I did it on purpose.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, right. There’s always an excuse.”

He frowned, stepping closer, but she took a step back, arms folding over her chest like she was shielding herself from an attack that wasn’t coming. He sighed, something pained flickering across his face.

“Do you hear how you’re talking to me right now?” His voice was quiet, not angry, not defensive—just… tired.

And that was when it hit her.

She wasn’t even really arguing with him. Not Rafe. Not the boy who held her when she had nightmares, who traced circles on her back when she was overwhelmed, who had never once raised his voice at her even when she threw words like daggers. She was arguing with the ghost of the man who had hurt her before, who had made her feel like she had to fight to be heard, to be understood.

Her chest tightened, shame creeping up her spine.

She was training him.

She was teaching Rafe—patient, loving Rafe—that no matter how hard he tried, it would never be good enough for her. That he’d always be walking on eggshells, waiting for the next time he slipped up and she lashed out.

She was turning him into someone who feared her.

The realisation knocked the air from her lungs, and before she could stop herself, her feet were already moving, carrying her toward the door.

“Y/N, wait,” Rafe called, but she couldn’t—she couldn’t.

If she let him say something kind, if she let him look at her with that soft, exhausted sadness in his eyes, she’d break down right in front of him.

She barely registered getting into her car, barely noticed the shaking of her hands as she fumbled with the keys.

And then she was driving.

Her vision blurred with tears, and she blinked them away furiously, but they just kept coming, spilling down her cheeks in hot, silent streams.

She had pushed him too far this time.

She knew it—knew, in the deepest part of her heart, that there was only so much someone could take.

She wanted to be better. She needed to be better. But how could she, when she didn’t even know what that looked like? When she had spent so long being told that love was a battlefield, that the only way to be heard was to yell louder, fight harder?

She should’ve let Rafe in. She should’ve told him why she reacted the way she did, why she felt like she had to accuse before she could be accused, hurt before she could be hurt.

But it was too late.

She had to leave before he could do it to her.

Because that’s what she had been taught—that love never stayed, that sooner or later, they always left.

And she’d rather be the one walking away than the one being abandoned.

The thought shattered something inside her, and for the first time in a long time, she let herself sob.

—

Rafe had never felt this kind of exhaustion before.

It wasn’t the kind that came after a long day working in the heat or the kind that settled in his bones after a sleepless night. No, this was different. It was the weight of not knowing—the crushing uncertainty of whether or not he had just lost the best thing that had ever happened to him.

He hadn’t stopped calling since the moment Y/N ran out of his house. The first few went straight to voicemail. Then, after what felt like an eternity, a text finally came through.

I’m safe. I just need some space.

The relief had been instant—so strong that his knees nearly buckled. But it didn’t last long. Because the truth was, she might be safe, but she wasn’t okay.

And the worst part? He didn’t know how to fix it.

Rafe sat on the edge of his bed, phone still clutched in his hands, staring at the screen like it might give him the answers he needed. But there were no answers—just the hollow ache in his chest and the endless loop of their fight playing over and over again in his head.

It wasn’t the argument itself that unsettled him. Couples fought—it was normal. He and Y/N had had disagreements before, sure, but never like this.

The way she’d looked at him tonight wasn’t how someone looked at the person they loved. It was how someone looked at a threat.

And that… that was what haunted him the most.

Rafe never wanted to be something Y/N had to defend herself against.

His thoughts raced, trying to piece together why she had reacted the way she did. It wasn’t like he’d done anything that bad—he’d forgotten to call. That was all. It wasn’t like he lied, or cheated, or intentionally hurt her. And yet, the second he tried to explain, she had shut down, turned on him, twisted it into something it wasn’t.

It was almost like… she expected him to hurt her.

The realisation hit him hard.

Y/N had mentioned her ex before, offhandedly. Just a couple of times. She never said much, just that he was shitty, that he messed her up.

But this… this was more than just the baggage of a bad breakup. This was damage.

And if there was anyone who might have more answers, it was Sarah.

—

Sarah wasn’t surprised when she opened the door to find Rafe standing there, disheveled and tense, like he’d been pacing for hours.

She sighed, leaning against the frame. “I figured you’d show up eventually.”

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Did she tell you?”

Sarah nodded her head. “She sent me a short text. It was reallt vague, but I gathered it wasn’t good.”

Rafe swallowed hard, his throat dry. “I just… I don’t understand. She got so defensive. It was like—like she thought I was trying to hurt her. And when I tried to calm things down, it just made her angrier.”

Sarah’s expression softened. “Rafe…” She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. “You know her last relationship wasn’t good, right?”

“She said it was shitty, but—” He broke off, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t realise how bad.”

Sarah sighed, crossing her arms. “Her ex was emotionally abusive. Manipulative. The kind of guy who’d twist things until she thought she was the problem. He made her question everything. Gaslit her, isolated her. It took her forever to get out.”

Rafe’s stomach twisted.

Y/N had never told him any of that.

Sarah continued, her voice quieter now. “She’s not like this because she wants to be, Rafe. It’s a trauma response. She learned to survive by being defensive. By fighting back first before she could be blamed. And now, even when she’s with someone who actually loves her, it’s hard to unlearn that.”

Rafe nodded slowly, his jaw tight. He could see it now, see how it all fit together.

How the moment something felt like it could go wrong, Y/N would push him away. How she always needed control over the situation, how she sometimes twisted his words—not because she wanted to hurt him, but because that’s how she had survived before.

She wasn’t fighting him. She was fighting the past.

Sarah sighed. “I don’t want to say more—it’s not my story to tell. But if you really care about her, you’ll be patient. She needs to learn how to trust that you’re not him.”

Rafe nodded, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I do care,” he muttered. “More than I probably should.”

Sarah gave him a small, sad smile. “Then don’t give up on her yet.”

—

Rafe sat in his truck, staring at the dark road ahead, his mind still reeling from everything Sarah had told him.

It all made sense now.

It wasn’t that Y/N didn’t love him. It wasn’t even that she wanted to hurt him. It was that she didn’t know any different.

And that broke his fucking heart.

He thought about the way she looked at him when they weren’t fighting—when she was curled up in his arms, or when she laughed at something stupid he said, or when she kissed him like he was the only thing keeping her steady.

That was her.

Not the girl who lashed out. Not the girl who pushed and twisted things in an attempt to stay in control.

He couldn’t let this be the thing that ended them.

Because if there was one thing he knew, it was that Y/N deserved to be loved the right way. She deserved someone who wouldn’t run just because loving her required patience.

She deserved someone who would stay.

And if that meant showing up even when she didn’t know how to ask him to—if that meant proving to her that he wasn’t like the man who hurt her—then he’d do it.

He threw the truck into drive, determination settling in his chest.

He needed to see her.

He needed to talk to her.

So Rafe headed towards his place to grab his phone before heading to Y/N’s to fix things.

He had barely stepped into his house when the knock echoed through the quiet space.

He frowned, glancing toward the door. He hadn’t been expecting anyone, and after the night he’d had, he wasn’t exactly in the mood for surprises. But when he pulled it open, his breath caught in his throat.

Y/N stood there, her frame swallowed by an oversized hoodie, sleeves pulled over her hands as she twisted the fabric between trembling fingers. Her eyes—blood-shot and swollen from crying—met his with a hesitance that made his chest ache.

She looked afraid.

Not of him.

But of what came next.

“Y/N—”

“I’m sorry.”

Her voice was hoarse, like she’d been crying for hours. Maybe she had. The weight of everything unsaid hung between them, thick and suffocating. Rafe wanted to say something, anything, but she beat him to it.

And when she spoke, the words tumbled out in a frantic, shaky rush.

“I—God, I don’t even know where to start,” she admitted, sniffing as she swiped a sleeve under her nose. “I just—I need to say this before I lose my nerve.”

Rafe nodded slowly, heart pounding. “Okay.”

She took a deep breath, and then, like a dam breaking, everything spilled out.

“My ex—he wasn’t just shitty, Rafe. He was toxic. He—he manipulated me, controlled me, made me think I was losing my mind. Every time we fought, he’d twist my words until I couldn’t even tell what was real anymore. And when I got upset, that became the problem. I was the problem. He convinced me I was crazy. That I was too much, too sensitive, too difficult to love.”

Her voice cracked, and Rafe’s hands clenched into fists at his sides.

He had felt it before—the anger, the quiet rage that settled deep in his bones whenever he thought about the way Y/N’s past had left its mark on her. But now, hearing her say it aloud, it burned white-hot in his veins.

“I spent so much time walking on eggshells, just waiting for the next thing he’d use against me,” she continued, voice thick with emotion. “So eventually, I just… I learned to fight back first. Before he could get the upper hand. Before he could make me feel small again.”

Rafe swallowed hard, feeling something inside him break at the way she spoke—like she still carried the weight of it all, like she still believed she was the problem.

“Y/N,” he started, but she shook her head.

“I need to finish,” she whispered. “Please.”

He nodded, his throat tight.

She exhaled shakily. “I didn’t mean to treat you like him. I swear I didn’t. But I don’t know how else to be. Every time we fight, I feel like I have to defend myself before you can hurt me. But you never do. You’re nothing like him, Rafe. You’ve never made me feel small, never made me question myself. You’re the only person I’m actually terrified of losing, so tonight—” Her voice wavered. “Tonight, I left before you could.”

Rafe felt his heart shatter.

She had run because she thought he’d leave her. That he’d get tired of her, of the way she struggled to let go of the past.

She didn’t realise he never would.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she barely seemed to notice, too lost in her own confession.

“I don’t want to be like this,” she whispered, voice raw with desperation. “I don’t want to push you away. I don’t want to hurt you just because I don’t know what healthy love is supposed to look like.”

“Y/N…” Rafe’s voice broke, and suddenly, he was moving—closing the space between them, cupping her face in his hands with a gentleness that made her shudder.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and for a moment, she just leaned into his touch, like she was memorising the feeling of him still being there.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I’m so fucking sorry, Rafe. I know I’ve been difficult, I know I’ve been hard to love, but please—please don’t go anywhere.”

He felt his own tears spill over at that—at the sheer, heartbreaking fear in her voice.

She thought he was going to leave.

She truly believed that he’d wake up one day and decide she wasn’t worth it.

He pressed his forehead to hers, his grip tightening like he was afraid she might slip away again.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. “Ever.”

Her breath hitched, and her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, like she was trying to anchor herself to him.

“I promise,” he continued, his thumbs brushing away her tears. “You are not too much. You are not difficult to love. I don’t care how long it takes for you to believe that, I’m not going anywhere.”

A sob wracked through her body, but this time, it wasn’t just pain—it was relief.

And then, in the quietest voice, she whispered, “I’ll get help.”

Rafe pulled back slightly, searching her eyes.

“I mean it,” she insisted. “I want to get better. I want to be better. For us.”

She let out a shaky breath, looking up at him with a mixture of fear and determination.

“Now I’m not afraid of the water,” she whispered. “I’ll dive right in. And I can be brave, so I’m gonna give it a try.” Her lip trembled. “Because I know you’ll be on the other side.”

Rafe’s heart clenched.

Because for the first time since she had come into his life, Y/N wasn’t running.

She was staying.

And so was he.

Rafe cradled her face, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead, his own tears still slipping down his cheeks.

“I’m right here,” he murmured. “I’ll always be right here.”

She exhaled shakily, nodding as she let herself fall into his embrace, arms wrapping tightly around his waist.

And as they stood there, wrapped up in each other, Rafe knew—this was what love was supposed to be.

Messy. Imperfect. But real.

And this time, neither of them were afraid of stepping into unknown waters.

(divider by @kodaswrld !!)

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

thank you so much for this request anon, i love me some angst !! pls keep requesting everyone, i am working my way through them and i have like four in my drafts rn to be edited so stay tuned !!

as always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Hi there! First, I just want to say I love your blog and your writing! You are seriously so talented! I have a request for Bucky that I would be cute! (I don't think you've written anything similar but if so, I'm sorry for sending in a duplicate).

I saw a writing prompt thing on Pinterest and the prompt was "I can walk." The guy then looks at her and sasy "I thought you were dead. I need to f*ckin hold you."

And I immediately thought of Bucky! I kind of pictured you getting hurt on a mission or something like that and Bucky just being super touchy and wanting to hold you after because he was scared that he had lost you.

I'll let you fill in the rest with your amazing creativity!

Almost Lost You » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x Agent!Female Reader

Summary: You get shot during a mission and all Bucky wants to do is hold you.

Warnings: Fluff, language, coworkers to lovers (is that a thing?), blood, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you for the request, nonnie🩵 I immediately thought of Thunderbolts when I seen this🥰

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

It’s no secret that Bucky has feelings for you. He has had feelings on you for a while. Most of the time you two get partnered up for missions, but sometimes it calls for individual work. Like this one.

Bucky was stopping a truck from hitting someone with his vibranium arm. You were chasing and shooting at the targets you were assigned to do. The rest of the team was doing their parts as well.

You were chasing one of the targets you were assigned to take down. You jumped on him to knock him to the ground, in which he did. He made a groaning noise as he fell to the ground. He grabbed his knife to try to stab you, but you smacked it out of his hand before you could.

“You need some back up, Y/N?” Bucky asks you through his ear piece.

“No, I’m good, Bucky.” You replied.

As soon as you said that, the guy you were trying to take down pulled out a gun. Before you could smack it out of his hand, he shot you in the side. You cried out in pain as he pushed you off of him and ran away. You managed to Army crawl your way off to the side and lean against a wall. You held your hand over where you were shot, feeling blood trickling down your side.

Bucky looked over at where you were supposed to be, but didn’t see you. He walked around to look for you. He found you leaning against a wall with your eyes closed. His eyes widened and his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. He ran over to you to check on you.

“Please be alive.” Bucky whispers to himself.

He put his fingers against your neck to feel for your pulse. He felt relieved when he felt it.

“What are you doing?” You asked, opening your eyes to see Bucky crouched down in front of you.

“I was just checking on you. You look injured.” Bucky says. “Are you ok?” He asks.

You knew he’d figure out one way or another to see if you’re injured or not. You lifted your shirt, showing him where you got shot. Bucky’s eyes went wide when he seen it. He put his hand over it and applied pressure. You yelped in pain.

“I know it hurts, but you’re going to be ok.” He says softly.

All you could do is nod. You tried to stand up, but the pain got the best of you.

“Let me help you.” Bucky says.

Bucky lifted you to your feet and then went to pick you up, but you stopped him by putting your hand on his chest to stop him.

“I can walk.” You say.

“I thought you were dead. I need to fucking hold you.” He says.

You were in too much pain to argue with him so you just nodded. Bucky picked you up bridal style and went to get you help. Luckily for you, there was an ambulance not too far from where you two were.

“What happened?” Yelena asks when she seen Bucky walk past her with you in his arms.

“Some asshole shot her.” Bucky tells her.

The paramedics saw Bucky carrying you and got a stretcher out of the aid car, rolling it over to you. Bucky gently laid you on it and explained what happened to you to the paramedics. You grabbed Bucky’s arm and looked up at him.

“Please stay with me.” You said in almost a whisper.

“I’m not going anywhere, doll.” Bucky says softly, gently caressing your cheek.

The paramedics took you to the hospital and Bucky stayed with you the whole time, except when he was told to go to the waiting room. Bucky sat in the waiting room with his nerves through the roof. He was bouncing one of his legs, trying to keep his nerves in control. All he wants to do is be with you.

“Bucky.” He hears Yelena’s voice.

Bucky looks up to see Yelena, Alexi, John, and Ava walking towards him.

“How is she?” Ava asks.

“They said the bullet didn’t hit anything major and they took her to surgery just to make sure.” Bucky tells them.

“She’ll be out before you know it.” Alexi says, trying to stay positive.

Bucky smiles softly and nods. That’s when the doctor walked in the waiting room. He practically jumped up from his seat.

“Y/N is out of surgery and she’ll be fine. She needs to take it easy for a while. You can see her now if you want.” The doctor says.

Bucky let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. He’s even more relieved to know that you’re fine.

“We’ll be out here if either of you need anything.” Yelena says.

Bucky smiles and went to your hospital room. You were just waking up when he walked in the room. You turned your head towards the door, smiling when you saw him.

“You stayed.” You say.

“I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.” Bucky says with a smile.

Bucky sat down in the chair next to the hospital bed. He gently picked up your hand and kissed it, making you blush.

“You really know how to make a girl blush, James.” You say with a soft giggle.

“That’s part of my charm, doll face.” He says with a smile.

You giggled again, but then winced in pain.

“Be careful, doll. Don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He says.

You smiled at him.

“Did you really think I was dead?” You asked.

“Yes and it scared me. One of my worst fears is losing you.” He says.

“One of your worst fears is losing me?” You asked, making sure you heard him right.

“Yes and it’s only because I’m in love with you.” He admits.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise. You have always knew that Bucky had a crush on you from the way he acts around you, but at the same time, you weren’t sure. His love confession confirmed it for you.

“You’re in love with me?” You asked in almost a whisper.

“I have been since I met you.” Bucky says.

You smiled at him and lifted your hand to caress his cheek, rubbing your thumb against his beard.

“Wanna know something?” You asked.

Bucky nods.

“I’m in love with you too.” You confessed. “That’s why I always played hard to get every time you flirt with me.” You say.

Bucky smiles widely. He leaned over and kissed you passionately. Your hand continued to caress his cheek. He then pulled away and leaned his forehead against yours, looking deep in your eyes.

“Was that kiss your way of asking me to be your doll?” You asked in a whisper.

“Only if you want to be. I don’t want to pressure you in any way.” He says.

“I would love to be your doll.” You say softly.

Bucky smiles and kisses you again. The kiss was short lived when the team walked in the room.

“I didn’t know hospitals provided this kind of treatment.” Yelena jokes, making you and Bucky laugh.

You and Bucky pulled away from each other. You looked at the team and smiled at them.

“How are you feeling?” Ava asks.

“Other than the little bit of pain, I’m fine.” You say.

As the team was visiting you, they noticed how touchy Bucky was being with you. They couldn’t tell if it was from almost losing you or having a crush on you. Maybe it’s a mix of both.

“Are you two a thing now?” John asks.

“Yes.” Bucky answers immediately.

Everyone smiled and congratulated you two on finally making it official. They visited a little bit longer before leaving so you and Bucky can be alone together.

“You’re so beautiful.” Bucky almost whispers.

“Even in a hospital gown?” You asked with a small giggle.

“It adds more to your beauty.” He says with a smile.

You smiled at him and gazed deeply in his eyes.

“I’m never letting you go.” He whispers.

You scooted over in the hospital bed, wanting Bucky to lay down next to you and cuddle you. You winced in pain when you moved.

“Cuddle me.” You murmured.

Bucky smiles and lays down next to you, wrapping his arms around you, being careful to not accidentally bump your wound.

“You’re coming home with me when you get released from here.” Bucky says.

“I would love that.” You whispered, smiling at him.

Bucky pecks your lips softly a few times and looks deep in your eyes.

“I don’t want to experience almost losing you again.” He says softly, his voice cracking.

“You won’t. I promise I’ll be more careful and ask for back up next time.” You promised.

“I love you so much, babydoll.” He whispers, kissing you sweetly and softly.

“I love you too, baby.” You say, smiling up at him.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[gamblersdoll]

𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡, 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝—

youre just a girl, who should be pampered, but you arent.. at least, not for very long. smut BACKSHOTTTSSSSS, , drug use, heavy angst

you hated how rin knew what to hit, how to hit, and when. it made a heart beat in your clit, going baaadump! baadump! baadump! you hated how he knew how many strokes it took , then pulling out to eat it..

it made your heart throb, feeling his tongue work itself to death and he looked at you through your creamy, frothy folds. it felt like a traditional soul tie, but it felt.. so so good. felt like no other man could make you cream so good.

it also felt like he was your everything, maybe it was just your low ego— feeling like no one could outdo rin. like no other man could ever be better than him. your relationship was like a gift, feeling so secure and loving the small moments and thought rin could give.

“hey baby,” that ‘baby’ hed mumble on the phone after practice, you could hear his relaxed voice when he just laid down. “how was work? any problems?” he was semi interested, but it wasnt noticeable to you at the time.

“twas okay, i guess..” you mumbled, wide awake at eleven pm just for him, to only giggle and play a little of the game. it felt like a dream sometimes, too good to be true and he made you feel like a pretty baby. “would you maybe.. come over? you dont have to.”

the tip of his mushroom dick was steady, always slamming into that gummy spot that made you see stars— slam! slam! slaam!

“rinrinrinnn!” you squealed, patting at his biceps and rolling your eyes, feeling like some bitch in heat the way he pulled your hips back— backshots were his favorite..

“so gah’damned needy..” he mumbled, pressing down the lower of your back to deepen the arch. “your form is so stiff.. do you not please yourself when im gone?” he asked, knowing hed slap your cunny with that heavy hand he used to train.

“nuh— uhhhh!” you moaned, words high pitched and eyes crossing. “jus’ you! swear!”

“mm.. seems like shes telling the truth.” he mumbles, pressing the pad of his thumb to your taint at the end of your slit. “so vocal for me, too.. do you feel no shame in how wet you sound?”

it doesnt take much of anything to get your rocks off, like the greedy girl he knew you were. he could have you riding his knee, and he could get you to ride out your orgasm in a heart beat.

so.. what was your problem? he made somethings feel like a dream, he fucked you when you wanted him to, and he was an upcoming striker, so whats your deal—

the feeling and sound of his phone went off, he pausing all movements to grab it. “hey-“ he hurriedly said, you staring in disbelief that hed answer a little phone call in the middle of your .. session. “yeah, ill be there in ten minutes.” the call ends, and you scoff. “what?”

“you’re seriously leaving me? “ you ask, just to confirm he wasnt playing with your brain, but he only confirmed that with a look of ‘..yeah?’ you felt like you could scream, all sexual feeling leaving your body. “deadass?”

“yes, baby. you know i have practice.”

“you couldnt even come in me before you left? you just dropped everything for that!” you wanted to laugh in disbelief, but who were you to do that? “know what? go, just leave, please.”

“we’ll finish up later.. kay?”

there was never a later, because he dedicated himself to soccer.. and there was your problem—

he never made time for you.

the times he did try and make time were your “dreamy moments,” because he tried to go all out, to make up for months he wasnt there. the feeling of his kisses soothed you, and when he smoked? he was more than a dream.

the smell of cherry leaves and weed filled your lungs, and he stole your breath each second he could. the pads of his fingers digging into plush thighs and a needy hand up your back had you feeling ecstatic. “rin—“

“missed me?” he inquired, a small spank on your thighs. “yeah, you did.” he snickers, kissing down to your collarbone. “got a few minutes before practice.”

“how longgg— oh!” you squeak, feeling his hand squeezing your breast. they were heavy due to ovulation, and so, so tender. “rinnn, please.”

‘rin! where’d you go man?’ one of his teammates called for him, and it left you feeling defeated.

he just.. didnt see you as a priority.

“why havent you been answering my calls?” he just so decided that he could finally get to your place unannounced and ask a question like that. “we havent talked.”

“why would i bother to call? youre always busy.” you fold your arms, groggy since it was like.. twelve at night. “you dont answer any my calls.”

“because im at practice—“

“twenty four hours a day? no breaks?” you cut him off, growing agitated of his shit. why he expected you to answer his calls after maybe eight months of him barely answering your calls. “you dont see me as a priority, you dont see me anymore, you dont call or write. “

“because im trying to be japan’s best striker, the hell did you think of you being a priority?” his words stung, because if it was that serious— why ask you out? why ask you to be his? why even bother with it? “i thought you would understand where im coming from.”

“and i thought youd be able to handle a relationship, but guess not.” you think to yourself. you wanted to argue, but you had work in the morning.

“ill keep trying, im sorry.”

and if that was his ‘try,’ then what the fuck was the attempt or thought process? because his tries were pathetic, the same pace for the last nine months of your relationship. you felt emotionally detached, almost as if you were losing feelings for him— no, thats not it.. you had resentment. you had resentment for rin, for soccer, for rin mainly. it all tied back to him.

he became like a plague to you. you learned very quickly that if you didnt speak to him, youd never speak again probably.

you wanted to scream, but after a few deep breaths, your mind was clear. you wanted to be a decent person to him, you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. but.. he wasnt acting like he was worth that benefit. you learned that sometimes you want to give them a chance, but that was merely your ego and pride being crushed because you did not care about yourself enough.

so, what else could you do?—

the line rang for maybe six times, rin always had it set to ring ten times for extra time for himself to answer (ironic, aint it?), but answered finally on the ninth ring. “im at practi—“

“it isnt working out, rin.” you cut him off, chewing at the pads of your thumb to cool yourself. the line was silent, but it felt like a suffocating weight on your back and chest. “im sorry.”

“mm, okay, well.” the fuck does he mean ‘okay, well?’ thats all he had to say? “i mean, good luck, i guess.” after a quick farewell, the line was ended, like a steak knife to the heart you wanted to give on a platter to him. but, beggars cant be choosers. It hurt though, because he acted like he didnt care about the fact you just broke up with him.

well, fuck him if he was in a fuck everything mood.

you pondered for hours, why was soccer more important? was it soccer that he was focused on or was it something— no, someone else? you wouldve saw it! you checked everything out, and it only lead to one thing:

he simply didnt see you important enough.

it had been an eternity, or at least thats what you were deluding yourself into. it had only been three months since the break up, yet you felt like it was wrong you were already out there in the dating pool again.

it actually wasnt, since six months out of the nine months that you dated rin you were detached and emotionally gone from the relationship. you had already did everything post break up: cry, eat ben and jerrys, watch a stupid show like greys anatomy or chicago med, and then the physical therapy sessions started— whether it was a new hair color, personality, piercings, or body modifications.

so what the fuck was the harm in dating?

“you deaf or something?” he asked, eyes sniping to you. “i asked if you were okay.”

“sorry! yeah, go ahead.” you offered him to go first in line, forgetting the fact you were in the middle of the store. “im really sorry, completely forgot i was here—“

“should i call someone for you?” it sounded good enough to have you cock back your hand ninety degrees back and come back at fifteen miles per hour. but in actuality, that was a joke.

a year.

a year, he shows up with some pitiful bouquet of flowers, a pity smile and a pitied hope. “hey,” he spoke up, and mainly— buffed a little more. “its been a while.”

“could i help you with something?” you ask, silky robe and you tied it tighter to not let the bits out. “its late, and its cold.. and its been a year.”

“i know, but still.. i figured some things out and—“

“think you runnin’ from it, huh?” a tuff of blonde and pink peak through the door, shidou towering over you and having a hand on your hip from behind. the worst goddamn time, but its technically rins fault. “oh! yer uhhhh..” he snaps his fingers and then points. “yer sae’s little brother, aye?”

rin gawks, the feeling of betrayal and envy. “who’re you?” the somewhat pretty flowers being crumpled and bent. “why are you with him of all people, this cockroach?”

“rin,” you say firm and gentle. “its been a year, i can date who i want , and shidou and i just kinda met..” its only worse that they know each other, you just knew how to pick em, huh? “was there something i can help you with?”

“yeah, being a better striker.”

“listen here—“ rin starts, and you feel shidou start to get heated from behind you, but luckily you were in the middle.

“rin!” you shout, but hes not focused on you, because hes merely angry that youre dating again.. and with a man like shidou. “we’re done, you have a good night rin— shidou, back inside.”

“damn, didnt know you could scream like that..” shidou snickers, leaving a soft smack on your rear. “see you later, loser.”

because why now of all times? why did rin decide now was the time to save you both and get back together? a whole goddamned year! a whole year he decided to wait—

a familiar hoodie walks briefly down the hall, standing briefly until he brings his hood down— sae itoshi, japans best player. “rin.” he nod to him, leaves you a kiss on the head and brushes past you and the door.

“youre fucking joking, right?” rin asked, also hearing shidou grow excited. “my fucking brother?”

“i didnt know he was your brother.” you retort, folding your arms and holding your own. “we met in the store.” because thats what happened, you didnt know they were related.

well…. maybe you did, its the eyes.

“and you still didnt do a .. i dunno, a background check? or even ask me?” he asked, and it catches sae’s attention.

“rin.” he starts, pulling the door wider to show shidou sprawled on the couch, tv lit and he in nothing but a shirt and shorts now. “we’re trying to have a good time, either you talk to my girl nice, or you have a good night.” he knew what pissed rin off, just enough. “ i quite frankly would like for you to have a good night. been wanting to see this movie for a month.”

a month?!

“awe, i thought she was our girl!” shidou perks up, a pouty frown until you wave him off. now wasnt the time.

“just how long were you dating?” rin asked, but sae waved him off. “dont ignore me, big brother!— fuck you!”

almost a year you were his, a year you werent.

and he had one objective for shidou and sae:

destroy, kill, and revenge.

property of gamblerdoll 2025. do not alter, copy, translate, or modify. dividers are not mine. please dm for credit since i lost the account ;-;

[fancyfeathers]

Imagine Daughter!Reader having a phone that is constantly going off and the batfamily is just like "Who is that?" then one day they look and it's just one of her friends but they literally talk all the time. Nothing wrong with that! Then they find out it's a boy. Batfamily is probably thinking, "Friend that's a boy? Oh hell nah she already has a boyfriend but two boys that aren't family in her life need to GO" Cut to Damian stalking Daughter!Reader at school(it's normal at this point) only to find her arguing with said friend that's a boy and acting like competitive siblings. No seriously, Damian walked into lunch and saw the two arguing over the school brownie that they had found still wrapped up in it's plastic on the lunch table. So the batfamily continues their regular stalking and with how they've been so far I can only assume the siblings will be super jealous of this random boy that's suddenly stolen their "Sister's" attention from them and treating the rando like a sibling more. Side note: I love your writing and I love your page! I hope you have a lovely day/night<3

Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling

To be honest they would block his number the second they felt even slightly threatened by someone else, they probably did the same with her boyfriend but they can’t get him out of her life because their families are in the same social circle and they go to the same school.

But honestly I am imagining her friend as like the most unthreatening person imaginable, like a scrawny art kid that she met in her AP psych class. But since they go to the same school the only person who would know what he looks like is Damian, all the rest of her siblings have not the slightest clue. They probably meet him when he is dropping off a hers and Damian’s schoolwork when they both got sick with something, and they honestly did not picture a teenager who probably has more interest in painting butterflies than socializing.

But then when they talk to each other it’s like all walls completely come down, like one day Damian came home and showed them all of a video of Daughter!Darling and her friend getting into a paint fight at school, which is also supported when Daughter!Darling comes into the room ten seconds later with dried paint all over her.

Now Damian will make comments at the boy that are slightly threatening and telling him to back off and mind his business, especially when Daughter!Darling confides in her friend about her home life a tiny bit.

Dick will try to ask her if she wants to do things that she has done with her friends and obviously gets upset when she says no because if she does it with them then why does she not want to do it with him?

Tim may or may not hack his grades to get him moved out of some of her classes, but he won’t if he if a scholarship student because that could end up with him being kicked out of school and Tim has enough of a conscious to not ruin someone’s life just because they piss you off.

Now once graduation comes along and he goes off to college then that is when they completely cut her off from him and any of her other friends, because most of them are leaving Gotham for school and they are already blocked on her phone so if she has no contact with any of them then their relationships are going to begin to break apart until they don’t exist anymore.

Honestly those few months after high school and before she runs away are the worst because she is not allowed to leave the house, she is hardly allowed out of her room without someone else out of fear she’ll try to run away because she is eighteen now and there for no longer has a legal guardian, so that fear of loosing her just becomes more real.

[2-shots2-thehead]

- I blinked and suddenly I had a valentine -

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Summary : Lego flowers on your desk ? ..You have plenty of kinda dorky coworkers, but..

Pairing : Spencer Agnew (Smosh) x GN!Cast!Reader (Use of Y/n)

Word Count : 638

Warnings/ Fic type : None !! Fluffy little short Oneshot

A/N : the pics I chose felt so him but ESPECIALLY the first one

“What the-“

You started oddly at the tiny vase on your desk, filled with flowers. Well..not real flowers. Lego flowers?

“Who’s it from?”

You could hear Courtney’s voice interrupt your contemplation. You shift your gaze from the small glass vase to her. You shrugged just once, not taking too long before turning to face the gift once again.

“..’Dunno. There’s no card.”

“No card?”

“Yup. No card. ..Maybe they put it on the wrong desk? It was probably meant for someone else.”

“Y/n, your desk is filed with pictures of you and your cats. I think they’d know.”

You sighed quietly to yourself, knowing she was right. It’s not that you were disappointed. Of course not. It was just frustrating to know you’d have to figure it out yourself. With zero clues, other than the fact that they can build cute things with legos.

“Yeah.. I guess you’re right.”

You reached forward to gently push it away from your computer screen, sitting down to get some work done in the meantime. It’s not like you’d focus anyway. You had some sort of..secret admirer. That’s a new one.

After a few hours, Spencer came by your desk to check on you, just like he had twice a day for the past two years. You didn’t have to look up at him to recognize his voice. You’d pinpointed at some point in time that it was one of your favorite things about him.

“Hey, Y/n.”

Even if you didn’t necessarily need to, you look up at him anyway. You didn’t need to, but you wanted to. Curly, messy dark hair, golden thin-rimmed glasses, and a bright smile.

“Hey, Spence. What’s up?”

“Not much. Y’like the flowers?”

…What?

“..Huh? What do y’mean?”

“Y’know, the flowers. Well, the fake flowers. Plastic flowers.”

You could’ve sworn your brain short-circuited at that exact moment. They were from him?? No. No, he’s gotta be talking about something else.

You hesitantly gesture to the lego flowers, already preparing for the sting of rejection. Well, not necessarily rejection, just disappointment.

“..Those?”

You watched his eyebrows crease with confusion. Oh, God. Yup. He was definitely talking about something else. Seriously, why would you ever-

“Yeah? What else would it be? ..Did someone else get you fake flowers?”

You couldn’t fight back the small blush quickly creeping up to your cheeks and ears. So..they were from him. There was no rejection. Just surprise, and..excitement.

“…They’re from you??”

“Yeah..? I’m really confused- Would someone else make you flowers?”

“No- No, I just-…wasn’t expecting it to be from you. ..Why?”

“..Why what?”

“Why’d you give them to me?”

He shrugged, a simple smile on his lips. He leaned down against the little wall divider beside your desk.

“Why wouldn’t I? You said you like flowers. And I can’t grow flowers. But I’m kinda a whiz with legos.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his wording. He always chose unique words like that because he knew they’d make you laugh.

“Yeah, but-.. Okay. You can’t grow flowers, so you built them. ..Why, though? What’s the point?”

He seemed to think a little harder before answering that one, folding his hands neatly in front of him.

“..I thought they’d make you happy. And-…y’know-…it’s almost Valentine’s Day. You didn’t-..have a-..date of some sort, as far as I’m aware, so-..I figured I’d ask you. With flowers. Y’know, like the gentleman I am.”

It didn’t take long for his nervous state to be replaced with the sarcastic jokes you knew and loved. You smiled softly at his words. It was..sweet. Considerate.

“Spencer Agnew, are you asking me to be your valentine?”

“Y/n L/n, maybe I am.”

Your soft smile shifted to just a bit of a smirk.

“Well..I think I’ll just have to say yes. I can’t turn down hand-built flowers.”

[nmakii]

i blinked and suddenly, i had a valentine!

— valentines with nagi and sae

folow @itoshiluvbot …. number one sae lover she on the floor rn while i type this…

nagi never liked valentines days. florists would be more pushy than usual, insisting that he should buy a rose for that someone special, and wouldn’t let him cross to school. so troublesome, honestly. not to mention how a bunch of girls would be slipping treats and love letters into reo’s locker. they’d always try to vy for his attention, specially on valentines, so now he doesn’t have anyone to hang out with!

well, no one else but you. on days such as valentines, you’d complain all day about how you had no one who loved you, it was a bit bothersome hearing the same thing every year. so this year, he decided to fix that.

he went out of his way to buy you a tiny box of chocolate— one of those expensive brands with different flavors that all really just taste the same. nagi knew that it was more or less a scam for boyfriends who want to buy their girlfriend something special, but nagi had a feeling you’d pout if it was one of those cheap brands chocolates from the convenience store.

right. you’d be the one who would be sad. it definitely just wasn’t nagi unable to show you that he does care for you, and him doing it by buying you the more luxurious options.

…anyway, he also bought you those bottled milk teas you love so much. the ones that he also likes to take sips out since it’s so tasty. one taste of it, and he’s always back to your favorite convenience store where the two of you would hang out. he’d play his video games while resting his head on your shoulder, and you’d write your essay while eating your cup noodles. it was all so simple, yet so perfect.

“nagi, pleaseeeee… be my valenhuzz…” you whined, sitting beside him on the staircase as he played his video games. “what does that even mean? the slang lately is so weird.” he sighed. “hmmm… you’re right, i miss skibidi toilet.” you shrugged, all before groaning to yourself. god, valentines was seriously hell on earth for single people.

nagi nodded, knowing the cause of your grief, and— …put his game down?! he lightly dropped his console to the side, letting his character get pummeled with bullets. he dug his hands into the holes of his absurdly large hoodie pocket, and pulled out a box of luxury chocolate and a bottle of milk tea.

“…for you” he mumbled, handing the gifts over to you. your heart swelled like the strings of a quartet at a genuine act of kindness from nagi seishiro, and you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around him.

“oof!” he grunted, caught more than off-guard by your side hug. “nagi! you’re so freakin’ sweet!” you squealed, your cuteness aggression kicking in. all you want to do is just take a bite out of nagi! “…it wasn’t too bothersome. i didn’t want you to be sad this valentines.” he muttered.

“ahah! so, you are my valenhuzz!” you snickered proudly, pumping your fist. “i— umm, sure... as long as we just spend today in my dorm.” he shrugged, exasperatedly shaking his head. you were awfully pushy when it came to the things you wanted, and it seems that today, that thing was him. it was too bothersome to fight you when you were like this, so it was easier to just agree with you.

“really—?!” you asked, you didn’t really expect him to agree! “…yeah, i’m not busy today, so i’ll be your valentine.” he hummed tiredly.

ah… you never thought this would’ve happened, but at least you aren’t forever alone anymore.

“come over.” was the only thing sae said in his text. as you went up to his apartment door, you felt nervous. this could’ve been a number of things. a booty call? a date? all of this on valentines no less. this was the first year he hadn’t asked you to be his valentine. even after 5– almost 6— years together, you could never read his mind, he just texts too ominously.

you knock on the door. and without a beat skipped, sae opens the door. he’s in an apron, looking like a househusband. hahah, how cute of him!

sae quickly moves to the side, making way for you to enter. “come in.” he hums, leading you in. inside, a display is before you. an actual candlelight dinner. a fried chicken cutlet served on the side of a cheesy pesto pasta. god, just looking at it made your mouth water.

“happy valentines, amorcita.” he whispers, his breath tickling your ear as he rests his jaw on your shoulder. he observes the shocked look on your face and scrunches his eyebrows. “why do you look so surprised? i do something like this every year, don’t i?” his head tilts.

you couldn’t really refute him— maybe your reason for thinking otherwise was a bit silly now. “i mean… yeah..! but, you didn’t ask me to be your valentines this year…” you pout, frowning like a child. sae scoffed, “you’re my valentines every year. why would it change this year?”

he raised an eyebrow, small creases forming at the edge of his lips as he tries to hide the smile on his lips. he uses his thumb to slide along the sharp edge of your jaw, admiring how the flames shone in the reflection of your eyes. “you’re being silly, amorcita. but if it makes you feel better…” he sighs, “will you be my valentine?” he asked.

you laughed at the seriousness of his tone. no matter the situation, he had a voice that made you want to listen attentively as if it’d be the last thing he says to you. you nodded softly,

“yes, i’ll be your valentine, sae.” you breathlessly sighed, humming your words as it reverberates back onto his lips in a soft, meaningful kiss.

[krirebr]

Still Life 2

Pairing: Alpha Curtis Everett x Omega Female Reader

Word Count: ~5.9k

Summary: Curtis has been volunteering as a foster alpha for three years now. He's never seen a case this bad...

Warnings: Heavy angst (with an eventual happy ending), past abuse (not Curtis), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, physical scarring, extreme sexism (both external and internal), adult themes, referenced past non-con (including but not limited to somnophilia, partner-sharing, and drugging), fear of non-con, the slowest burn I've done yet. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by me this time!

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Here am I, the angst fairy, coming to really bum you out right before Valentine's Day! You're welcome? 😂 But seriously, friends, this is a rough one, so please read the warnings and take care of yourself!

A huge thanks to @bigtreefest who talked through so much of this with me, and @stargazingfangirl18 who helped me figure out the particulars of how alpha/omega dynamics work in this world (both for this part and going forward)!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You should’ve expected this. It was exactly what they’d always said would happen. That the government abhorred personal freedom and one day they would come to try to take everything the alphas had built for themselves. They wanted to seize all the land and the guns and capture the omegas to sell them off to the highest bidder or put them in a breeding program. 

But before, whenever the topic came up, whichever alpha was ranting against big government, be it Franco, Wilford, or your father, would inevitably turn to what would happen when the government pigs came to take what was theirs. The mindless troops would be met with guns and fire and pure alpha might. And they’d learn what happened when you messed with true alphas.

But that wasn’t what happened, was it? No. That wasn’t what led to you standing in the middle of your new alpha’s house. You should count yourself lucky, you supposed, that you hadn’t ended up in a breeding program—horror stories about those programs used to keep you up at night as a teenager. Stories whispered among the omegas, a reminder of how lucky you all were to be safe in the compound.

You hadn’t felt safe for a long time, but you weren’t sure you’d ever been in this much danger. You were completely on your own, given away to one of the biggest alphas you’d ever seen. Much bigger than Franco or Wilford. You’d never be able to fight him. He’d be able to hurt you even worse than either of them.

That was all you could think about as he showed you around his house. You didn’t know why he was bothering. You were sure you’d only need to know where his bedroom and the kitchen were. 

But still, he showed you the living room, the bathrooms, a room he called his home office. It was outside of that room that he stopped and turned to you. “I work from home,” he said, his voice a steady rumble. “So I’ll be around if you ever need me. I just ask that you knock first before coming in if I’m working. Okay?”

“Yes, Alpha,” you said by rote, but your mind was racing. He would always be here. You’d never get a break. There’d be no way to hide anything from him. Even Franco had left the house every day to go about his business, whatever that was. Sure, you still had Martha trying to know all of your secrets, but as long as you did the chores and kept the pups out of her way, you could deal with her. And as much as you hated Franco’s First Omega, she was still better than him.

At the thought of your Alpha, you swore the mark on your neck throbbed. Where was he now? Locked up? Dead?? Did it even matter? He wasn’t actually your alpha anymore. He used to talk sometimes about how before civilization when it was everyone out for themselves in the wilderness and omegas were scarce, stronger alphas would kill weaker ones and steal their omegas, biting over the existing mark. He’d laugh when he described the ravaged state of an omega’s neck bearing mark after mark until she was finally captured by an alpha strong enough to keep her. He always looked at you when he said that last part, at your mark. 

But he hadn’t been strong enough to keep you, had he? Not in the end. None of them had been.

The alpha had moved on down the hall and you scrambled to keep up with him. He stopped in front of a doorway, blocking your view inside. “This is my room,” he said.

You took a deep breath. Okay. It was time then. You could do this. You could be a good omega. You waited for him to move into the room so you could follow, but instead, he gestured to the room behind you. “And that one’s yours.” 

It took you a moment to understand what he’d said. Then you slowly turned around, confused, to find a small bedroom. Without thinking, you took a few tentative steps inside. It was bright, the sun streaming in through the curtains. There was a bed in the center of the room, covered in a dove gray quilt with flowers stitched into it. There was a collection of dusty rose pillows covering the top third, in all sorts of shapes and sizes. A plush-looking chair in a similar color was tucked into the corner. There was a big window set into the far wall. Sheer curtains softly billowed over it. Two bins were stacked beneath it. Against the perpendicular wall, sat a short dresser made of dark wood, and next to it a small closet. Across from that, you could see a little ensuite bathroom. All of it was much nicer than the little room with the thin cots that you used to share with Martha and Emmy when any one of you wasn’t in Franco’s bed. You couldn’t understand why he was giving it to you. Just you. As far as you could tell, there weren’t any other omegas here. It was much too nice for you on your own.

You turned back to him, hoping to find some clues there, but he had the same vaguely soft look on his face he’d had since you’d first walked into the room at the center you’d first been brought to. You didn’t like that look, didn’t know what to do with it. It’d drop soon anyway. You knew it would. The waiting was the worst part.

You dropped your gaze when he cleared his throat. “There’s nesting supplies in those two bins under the window. With or without alpha scent. So you can go ahead and make yourself comfortable.”

You blinked at the two bins he’d gestured to. You didn’t understand what he wanted you to do, but you nodded anyway with a quiet, “Yes, Alpha.”

He hovered in the doorway, not taking even one step into the room. “Are you still hungry?” he asked.

You shook your head. He’d stopped and gotten you a breakfast sandwich on the way to his house and had let you eat it in his truck. You’d eaten it quickly so he couldn’t change his mind, extremely careful not to get any crumbs on his upholstery. 

He sighed and you were gripped by panic that you may have disappointed him. You had no idea how you might have done that but this wouldn’t be the first time that an alpha’s expectations had been unknowable to you. But he didn’t say anything about it or make any move to punish you. You kept a wary eye on him anyway.

“Well,” he said, taking a step back into the hallway. “I have some calls to make and a little work to do. I know you’ve had a long night, so I’ll let you rest for a bit. But please come get me if you need anything.” 

“Yes, Alpha,” you whispered, knowing for a fact that you would do absolutely everything you could not to disturb him. An omega’s job was to make her alpha’s life easier, to bring him pleasure. Omegas didn’t need things. They should never be that selfish. You would show this alpha how good you could be. To protect yourself, you’d do whatever you could.

He looked at you, a furrow between his brows, then just nodded and walked down the hall. You waited for a moment to make sure he didn’t come back. When he didn’t, you carefully made your way around the room. You placed your knapsack on the chair in the corner and took out the only other dress you’d managed to grab on your way out of Franco’s house to hang up in the closet. It looked pathetic, hanging by itself. You took off your shoes and placed them underneath it. Finally, you took the little friendship bracelet out of it’s hiding place at the bottom of the bag. You reverently set it on the dresser, the little ballerina charm Grace had managed to sneak into the house for you hanging off the wood. 

You turned towards the two bins against the wall. The alpha clearly wanted you to do something with them but you had no idea what. You gingerly opened the first bin and were immediately hit by the strong scent of cedar and leather and alpha, the same scent that had engulfed you in his truck and subtly permeated this house. But this bin was like being slapped in the face with it. You couldn’t breathe. You closed it as fast as you could. You were even more cautious as you opened the second bin, but you weren’t struck by any strong scents as you removed the lid that time. You looked inside to find a collection of blankets and pillows. You carefully touched one to find the softest blanket you’d ever felt. Without thinking, you brought it out of the box and buried your face in it, as tears pricked at your eyes. You didn't want to cry anymore. It wouldn't change anything. 

You pulled the blanket after you as you climbed onto the bed. You’d been awake for most of the last twenty-four hours and you could finally feel the adrenaline leeching out of you. The intense fear was still there, but it could no longer overpower your extreme exhaustion. You wrapped the blanket around yourself and quickly fell asleep.

You weren’t sure what exactly had woken you up, but your heart was already racing. Nightmares you couldn’t remember but could still feel were wrapped around you. You sat up and tried to force yourself to breathe. You weren’t in the compound anymore. You never would be again. You wished that could be a comfort to you, but now you were surrounded by unknown threats and dangers. You shouldn’t be so upset. This was just what happened to omegas. You’d been suddenly uprooted from your home before, dropped somewhere you didn’t know anything or anyone. It’d probably happen again. Especially if you didn’t do everything you could to please this alpha.

You wrapped the blanket tighter around yourself. It was one of the softest things you’d ever felt. You almost felt safe in this little cocoon you’d made yourself. Then you saw movement in the open doorway.

The alpha stood there, knocking softly on the door, something tucked under one arm. “Hey, I thought you might be awake,” he said, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard an alpha speak before. “Can I come in?”

“Yes, Alpha,” you said immediately, even as you felt that fear rising in your chest again. You didn’t know why he was asking.

He stopped and looked at you carefully, which made you shrink down as much as you could. He sighed with a small grimace. “On second thought, how ‘bout you come join me in the living room? Whenever you’re ready.” 

He took off down the hall, and, after you’d carefully put the blanket away, you followed him. He stood in the middle of the cozy room. “Sit wherever you’d like,” he said. 

You looked at the two plush couches and the recliner with panic. Was this a test? Was there a right answer? Where would he sit? You never would have sat before Franco. That would have gotten you in so much trouble. Was this alpha trying to trick you?

After a few moments, he softly called your name. “You can sit on that couch, if you want,” he said, gesturing to the larger of the two sofas. You let out a sigh of relief as you sat where he pointed. He sat on the other side of the same couch, giving you plenty of space, then took out what he’d been holding under his arm, revealing it to be a laptop, like Franco Jr used to have. He opened it and held it out to you. “You need more clothes. We have a stipend from the Center to get you the things you need so don't worry about the cost. Do you know how online shopping works?” You just sort of shrugged unsure of what the right answer was. You knew how to use a computer, but Franco had made sure none of his omegas ever had any access to his money, as was his right as the Alpha. “That’s fine,” he said, then showed you the buttons you needed to press to make an order. Then, inconceivably, he passed the computer over to you. “Pick out whatever you like, then if it’s all available at a local store, we’ll hopefully be able to get it delivered by tonight.” Then he sat back, giving you space.

You looked at the webpage in front of you, filled with dozens of pictures of models in different pieces of clothing. The title at the top of the page said Omega Loungewear, but as you scrolled down through the pictures, you couldn’t understand why. None of this was appropriate for omegas. There were leggings and shorts, t-shirts and tank tops, big baggy sweaters, something called bralettes that you couldn’t believe they were just showing pictures of right out in the open. There were some cotton dresses that might be ok, depending on what the alpha wanted, but he hadn’t told you. He wanted you to know. He wanted you to be good. To prove it. And everything was available in different colors and patterns and you didn’t know how many you were supposed to pick out or what he wanted or– 

You hadn’t realized your breathing had picked up until he was kneeling in front of you. “Hey,” he said very gently, his hands held out in front of him but not touching you, “hey, it’s okay. You’re alright. Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

You gulped. You were being a stupid omega. This was why omegas shouldn’t make decisions. You lifted the laptop up and passed it back to him. “I don’t know, Alpha,” you said very quietly, nodding to the computer. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, no need for apologies, it’s totally fine.” He stopped to think, then with a grimace and a sigh, “Would you like me to pick out some things for you and order them?”

You slumped in relief. He’d know what was okay for you to get. You wouldn’t have to guess. “Yes, Alpha. Thank you, Alpha.”

“That’s another–” he shook his head sadly. “You don’t– You don’t need to address me as alpha. You can call me Curtis, or, or anything. You can call me whatever you want. Whatever makes you comfortable.”

That was definitely a trick. Calling him anything other than Alpha was 100% not allowed. You had the marks on your body to prove it. Omegas might have been stupid, but you were smart for your kind and you wouldn’t fall for this just to be punished. After everything that had happened, you had more self-preservation than that.

“Yes, Alpha,” you said, your eyes on the ground. 

He let out another heavy sigh. “Right,” he said, as he stood up. “I had lunch while you were sleeping, but I set some aside for you. Let me go get it, And then we can” he looked around, flaring his arms to the side, “I don’t know. Watch TV, I guess?”

“Yes, Alpha,” you said, quietly, still not looking at him.

He sighed again. This alpha sighed a lot. He was disappointed in you. He just stood there for a long moment. You could feel him looking at you. You sank back into the couch, trying to make yourself as small as possible. There was another sigh, then, “I’ll be right back.” He turned on the TV as he left the room, leaving the remote within your reach, but you didn’t dare touch it. Another trap.

Franco had had a big TV. He watched a lot of sports and news shows hosted by strong alpha men that talked about how the government was trying to strip alphas of their rightful power. Sometimes there were pretty blonde beta and omega women there to say the same thing. There were other news channels too, but they were all secretly owned by the government and only told lies. 

When Franco was gone, Martha used to sneak into the living room to watch her stories while you and Emmy did chores or took the younger pups outside. You never joined her; she and Emmy would just yell at you for being lazy if you tried. 

So, now, you did your best to ignore whatever was playing until a voice caught your attention. “On tonight’s Eyewitness News at 5, government agencies raid an alpha supremacist group calling themselves The Snowpiercer Collective–” You felt your heartrate pick up. On the screen were images of the compound—the storage barns, the meeting hall, Wilford’s house. Then video of the people in their tactical gear with initials you didn’t understand on their backs holding guns and–

You weren’t sure what had woken you up first, the dogs barking or the sound of guns being fired. Emmy was standing over you, her eyes wide with panic, while Martha screamed behind her for both of you to get your lazy asses moving and get the pups. You didn’t know what was going on. None of you had been in Franco’s bed that night, which meant your little room was full and you’d had to sleep on the floor while the other two claimed the cots. You were stiff and slow and confused as you tried to get moving, still half-asleep. As you cut through the living room to get to the pups’ rooms—you could hear the youngest ones sobbing—you saw that it was still pitch black out, but then the sky would briefly light up with a loud crack of whatever was being fired much too close to your home for comfort. What was happening? Who was there? Where was Franco? He’d left the night before to go play poker with some of the other alphas, so more likely than not, he’d passed out somewhere in the compound before he’d been able to drunkenly stumble home. It’d been a relief that night, but now it meant that you were all completely defenseless from whoever was attacking you.

The three of you gathered the children and tried to herd them out the back door, toward the entrance to the bunker that was about twenty feet behind the house. But as soon as you opened the door, you were met with a full SWAT team and everyone was screaming and their guns were pointed at you and–

“Shit!”

The alpha’s voice brought you back to the present. You were on the floor. You were in your new alpha’s house and you were on the floor. The TV was off and he was crouched in front of you, the remote still in his hand. Your face was wet, tears streaming down your cheeks. You weren’t in the compound anymore, but that didn’t make you feel any safer. He was trying to talk to you, saying something, his tone gentle, but you couldn’t process his words. You were scared and you were tired. And you knew it was bad, you knew it wasn’t what you should do, but you were out of energy and you couldn’t stop yourself from curling up into a ball on the floor and finally sobbing like you’d wanted to since you’d been put into the back of that SWAT van.

You weren’t sure if you woke up, so much as just came to. There was a blanket draped over you—it’d been on the couch, maybe—and a pillow pushed under your head. The alpha must have done it, but you couldn’t imagine him taking such care with you. You could hear the murmurs of a one-sided conversation coming from the other room. 

You slowly sat up. Your eyes hurt and your mouth was dry. You were making a very bad impression on your new alpha. What must he think of you? You would have to work very hard over the next few days to show him that you did actually know how to be a good omega. You would do better.

The alpha took that moment to appear at the entrance to the living room. He held a phone to his ear. “I gotta go, Tanya. I’ll talk to you soon.” He put his phone in the back pocket of his jeans as he took a few steps into the room, then stopped. He stared at you and you dropped your gaze to the floor. You did your very best to keep your breaths even. It was always the worst with Franco when you couldn’t predict him, and you had no idea what this alpha would do.

He cleared his throat. “How are you feeling?” he asked quietly. Before you were able to figure out the best answer to that question, he shook his head. “No, that’s– that’s a stupid question, I know.” He crouched down so he was closer to your level while still several feet away. “Look, I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through, but I want to help you, ok? However I can, I’m here to help you.”

Your mind was racing. Why would he say that? To trick you, a little voice inside you said. That had to be it. Wilford had done that too. Pretended to be friendly and kind and helpful. Until he stopped pretending and you learned who he really was. You shivered at the memory of him. You’d learned your lesson. You wouldn’t be surprised again.

He stayed like that for a few moments, while you kept your head down and didn’t move. Finally he stood up. “I ordered some food. It should be here soon. And your clothes came. So if you want, you could put them away while we wait, and then join me in the kitchen for dinner?”

“Yes, Alpha,” you said quietly as you made yourself stand up. He followed suit and walked into the kitchen where he picked up two canvas bags with the same logo on them and handed them to you. You peered inside. You couldn’t see the shape of the clothes yet, but you could tell there were many items, all in soft pastel colors. 

“I had to make some guesses on sizing,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “And, uh, well. It looks like the clothes you currently have maybe don’t fit you quite right? So. So these might feel different.”

You ducked your head. The dress you were wearing had been Martha’s. Your shoes had been Emmy’s. They pinched your toes. Being third omega meant having to make do with what you were given. Even as a kid, everything you’d had had belonged to your older sisters first. You didn’t think you’d ever been the first person to wear something.

You clutched the bags to your chest and whispered, “Thank you, Alpha,” before hurrying down the hall to the bedroom you’d been given. You checked each item as you put it away. Leggings, t-shirts, sweaters, shorts, all made from some of the softest material you’d ever felt. He wouldn’t have gone so far as to spend actual money if it was just a trick or a test, would he? You’d done what you were supposed to, you’d let him choose, so even though these weren’t the clothes you were used to, it’d be okay to wear them, wouldn’t it? You worried your bottom lip. He’d picked them out. This was what he wanted.

At the sound of the doorbell, you hurried back out and arrived in the kitchen as he approached the small table with a short stack of flat, square boxes. “I hope pizza’s okay,” he said. “I got a couple different kinds, so hopefully there’s something you like.”

You didn’t respond. You were good at taking what was given to you. You stood next to the table and waited as he arranged the boxes and put a plate in front of each of you. You didn’t sit down until he did. He opened one of the boxes and gestured to its contents. “Help yourself,” he said. You kept your hands in your lap until he placed a slice on his own plate. Then you grabbed one from the same box. Once he took a bite, you started eating. It was so good. Much better than the frozen pizzas you would occasionally have at the compound. And as soon as you started eating, you realized you were starving. You hadn’t really had lunch, distracted by your ridiculous freakout. You inhaled your first slice, then stared at the box, wondering if it was worth the risk to try to take more. The alpha must have seen you looking because he took two more pieces from the box and placed them on your plate. “Have as much as you want,” he said. “There’s plenty to go around.” 

After a few more minutes of eating in silence, the alpha stood up abruptly, the back legs of his chair scraping loudly against the floor. You jumped in your seat and tried to make yourself small as he briefly loomed over you. 

He moved to the counter and came right back with the little cardboard box the Omega at the center had tried to give you. You shrank back as he held it out to you. “I almost forgot,” he said, “here are the suppressants if you want to start taking them tonight.”

You froze. You tried to force your hand to take the pills from him, but your limbs refused to move. You remembered the first time you'd been sent to Wilford, the High Alpha, the little white pill he'd given you. “To help,” he'd said. But it'd just made you feel tired, loose, disconnected from your body. Defenseless when he'd– Or other times, different pills, different colors and shapes, that'd made you feel like you were going into heat even though it wasn't time yet. That'd made you need things you didn't actually want. And the way Wilford had smiled at you and– 

Your new alpha was looking at you curiously, the pack of pills still in his hand, a mask of concern on his face. You needed to take it. An alpha was giving you something. You should take it. You should take it. You should take it. “What do they do?” you blurted out without meaning to. Oh god. You were in so much trouble. 

All he did at first was blink at you. “What do suppressants do?” he repeated back to you, looking slightly surprised. He withdrew his hand and sat down. “They stop your heats, is the biggest thing, for however long you take them.”

Why– Your heats belonged to your alpha. The whole point of them, of you, was to give your alpha pleasure. And pups. Why would he offer this to you? “You want me to take them?” you whispered.

“I–” He hummed and scratched his beard. “I want you to do whatever makes you feel most comfortable.” 

You looked at him as he made his face go completely blank. It was clearly another test and you weren't sure what the right answer was. Not just taking whatever pills he gave you was obviously bad. But if you had, you would have unknowingly denied him access to your heats, which was unforgivable. It was like you were being set up to fail. Maybe he was just looking for an excuse to punish you. Franco would sometimes do that too. You felt the flare of anger igniting in the pit of your stomach, but you took a deep breath to snuff it out. That would only get you in more trouble. You decided to commit to hopefully what was the lesser disobedience. “No, thank you, Alpha.”

He didn’t react for a moment and you were terrified you’d made the wrong choice. But his scent stayed mostly neutral and when he finally spoke, he just said, “Ok. That’s fine. But if you change your mind later, these will be here. And we can always talk about it again.”

You shook your head. You wouldn’t do that. You were good.

The alpha went to bed right after dinner, saying he was tired from having to wake up early to get you. You’d tried to apologize, but he looked at you funny, so you stopped.

Once he’d left you, you familiarized yourself with his kitchen, then did a thorough wipe down of the kitchen table, and swept underneath it.

When that was done, you retreated to the room he’d given you. There’d been some toiletries mixed in with the clothes he got for you, so you went into the little en suite and took a shower. It felt incredible, not having anyone banging on the door to get in next, or having to worry about using all of the hot water. For everything that was bad and scary about this situation, the chance at being a First Omega wasn’t one of them. Sure, you’d be the sole focus of your alpha’s attention, at least until he got another one, but it came with its perks too.

After your shower, you put on some of the new clothes. They were soft and cozy, cozier than anything you’d ever worn before. Then you climbed into the bed. You’d been so exhausted that morning that you hadn’t noticed much about it, but now, you felt like you were lying on a cloud. And it was so big, just as big as Franco’s bed. You’d be able to really stretch out in it when you were alone.

But would you be alone tonight? You got off the bed to peek out of the room to see that the alpha’s door was closed. You thought about closing your door, there was a lock on it, but if he really wanted to come in, all it would do was slow him down. And get you in trouble in the process. You closed it about three-fourths of the way. That wouldn’t technically be breaking any rules.

Not that you really knew what the rules were. Well, you knew the rules all omegas knew, but every alpha had their own as well. Your father did. Franco did. Wilford certainly had on the nights you had to be with him. But this alpha hadn’t bothered to tell you his yet. Another way to trick you into disobeying him.

You curled up on the bed, wrapping the soft blanket from the bin around yourself. You’d slept a lot of the day. Hopefully, that meant you wouldn’t need to sleep through the night. You wanted to be ready, when the alpha inevitably came for you. You wouldn’t fight him. The bite mark on your neck was proof enough that that wouldn’t do any good. But you just… you hated waking up in the middle of it. You’d rather know what was happening.

You turned over onto your side, trying to get comfortable, as you felt tears welling in your eyes. Again. If Martha were here, she’d yell at you for being a stupid child. You wondered where she’d ended up. Neither she nor Emmy had been shoved into the same van as you. Were they together? What had happened to their pups? You’d probably never see any of them ever again. You didn’t know what it said about you that you didn’t feel much of anything at that thought. Nothing good, probably.

You’d never see Franco again either. A good omega would feel grief at that. A good omega would miss him. Try as hard as you might, maybe you’d never been a very good omega. Maybe that’s how you’d ended up where you were.

You turned over again. You couldn’t get comfortable. This bed was too soft. You got up with a grumble, grabbing the blanket and one of the pillows and dragging them to the corner of the room. You were good at making yourself comfortable on the floor. That would be better. If he got upset that you weren’t waiting for him in bed, then at least you’d learn what his punishments were like.

You huddled into the wall and pulled the blanket tight around yourself, settling in to wait.

You woke with a start. You looked around, trying to get your bearings. You were in that little bedroom. The sun was streaming in through the curtains. Oh god, you’d fallen asleep! You hadn’t meant to do that. As you started to panic, you realized you were still curled up in the corner. Your clothes were still on. The door was exactly how you’d left it. He hadn’t come to take you in the night. You were filled with a strange mix of intense relief and something that felt a lot like dejection. Why hadn’t he come? It didn’t make any sense.

 You heard the clinking of dishware coming from another part of the house just as the scent of breakfast wafted in. Your head shot up, confused. Who was making it? Was there an omega here after all?

You got up and quickly got dressed in another pair of leggings and one of the big, slouchy sweaters. You followed the noise to the kitchen and came to a sudden halt in the doorway. The alpha was making pancakes. You had never seen an alpha cook, not even once, in your entire life. Alphas didn’t cook. That was omegas’ work. Was this his way of rubbing your face in the fact that you were already falling down on the job? Your first morning here and you’d already neglected your duties to the point that he had to cook for himself?

He turned around when he realized you were there and you braced yourself for whatever was coming. But instead of yelling at you, a wide smile overtook his face. “Hey, good morning! I hope you slept okay.” You couldn’t do much other than blink at him, but his smile didn’t falter. “Go ahead and sit,” he said, gesturing to the table. “This’ll be done in just a couple minutes.”

“I can finish it, Alpha” you tried, your voice timid.

He immediately shook his head. “No, no. You’re a guest. Sit down. It’s almost done.”

You did as he said and sat, not taking your eyes off him. This was the strangest alpha you’d ever met. You didn’t understand anything about him. How could you predict him when you didn’t understand him?

True to his word, it was just a few minutes later that he was setting a plate in front of you, along with some syrup. You gingerly poured it over your pancakes, as he sat across from you and did the same. As you carefully cut a small bite for yourself, you felt him watching you, even though he acted like he wasn’t. You took a bite and your eyes fluttered closed. These were the best pancakes you’d ever tasted. Much better than Emmy’s. Much better than yours. 

A small “mmm” escaped your lips. You opened your eyes, embarrassed, to find him still grinning at you. “That’s the first thing you should know about me,” he said, “I make really good pancakes.”

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[hotchnersangel]

YOUR LOVE IS MY OXYGEN

Aaron Hotchner

You and Aaron had been in a relationship for a few months and it was getting to the point where conversations of your relationship were becoming serious and really authentic and genuine. After a case, Aaron is sat in your living room, watching the tv, some silly reality tv show he claimed to despise- yet, he always kept watching them with you, even opting to put them on without prompts from you. Simply because he knew you loved watching them.

It was a routine, you watch, he finds something to complain about and you give him a kiss and suddenly he can stand it again.

Today was no different, Aaron was on the sofa when you went to sit besides him, now in comfier clothes. You sit on the edge of the sofa, Aaron side eying you to catch your attention but you don't look at him. He sighs, again another move to try and encourage your attention. Though, you refuse to give into his antics and you watch the show kick off into drama.

Another sigh escapes Aaron's lips, slightly louder now but you ignore him again, which he evidently did not like as you feel the couch dip and hands slide under your thighs and your back as he pulls you softly across the sofa and into his lap.

"Is that what you wanted?" You smirk at him amused as he gives you a faux cold glare. "Seriously? All that fuss for me to sit on your lap?"

"Yes, maybe if you had just done it there would not be so much 'fuss'." He muttered into your hair, pressing a kiss to your crown.

You move back, looking over his face directly and smiling at him. You love every detail about this man. The way his hair eventually loses its gel throughout the day and returns to become fluffier and more enticing to you hands to run through it. The way his eyes crinkle when he smiles and his eyes always dart to catch yours when he makes a joke or sees something funny, making sure you saw or heard it too. The way his eyes softened when he stared at you, whether it was during more intimate times or just in general, he made sure you were always taken care of before even himself. Every small detail about him, his heart, his body, his personality.

You even loved how he fake hated reality tv to encourage you to kiss him, he could just ask but it became an unspoken tradition by now.

You continue watching the show until one of the stars cause a fuss and create drama and Aaron sighs. "Seriously, I don't understand how you can enjoy this."

You stay silent knowing he will keep talking.

"This is crazy, it's the same thing over and over. Jenny kisses Alex and Maura gets upset. It's the same situation as Olivia and Jaques getting together when she was still with Liam."

You smirk at him, noticing that he does pay attention to the goings-on.

"For gods sake, look at George and Lana's body language, clearly they don't even like each other- I bet they just want the money. You know what, we could go on this and just try win the money because I'm sure as hell we would win considering we are in an actual relationship and these absolute degenerates are all faking their relationships so they get lots of money." He huffs after he lets out a rant, you staring at him as he can't depart his eye line from the tv.

"I'm actually angry just watching this." He scowls at the tv before turning to see you smiling delicately, you eyes roaming his face. Immediately upon seeing your smile, he grins at you. "What are you looking at?"

"Nothing just my boyfriend." You shrug, continuing to look at him.

"I like it when you call me that." He replies, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Both your heads turn as you continue to watch the show once again and you look at Aaron once more, just wanting to stare at him for the rest of your life.

"I love you." You blurt before you could even process what you said. You widen your eyes as you see him do a double take with a wide smile on his face.

"Sorry what?" He asks amused and you bite your lip, laughing in shock.

"I didn't mean to say that." You admit but shake your head, "Not that I don't mean it, I just-" You ramble but his hand lifts to your cheek.

"Say it again."

"I love you." You repeat.

"Again."

"I love you." You say again, giggling this time.

"Again."

"I'm in love with you." You grin softly, looking at him nervously as you see a twinge of pink caress his cheeks.

"I hate that you've just ruined my plans." He says with a grin but you look confused so he carries on. "I scheduled you to receive some flowers this weekend, I planned a whole thing out to tell you that."

You blush and look to your hands then back into his eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah, but somehow I think it's very endearing that you couldn't hold it in." He grins kissing just below your eye now, then moving to your cheek, then forehead.

"Loving you is like breathing to me honey, I don't even have to think about it to know it keeps me alive."

[nightplvmes]

*.⊹˚ ZAYNE | before midnight (valentine's day)

── ◜zayne x fem!reader — ◜short special | specials from the rest of the LIs on my profile

A part of her had to admit that she had expected to do something more tonight—maybe go out for dinner or at least eat together. Having lunch in his hospital office didn’t sound like the best plan, according to her best friend. But to her, it had been sweet, even romantic.

Maybe she had let her best friend get into her head too much, because now she was starting to wonder if it had really been enough. But either way, Zayne was working late, and surgery wasn’t exactly a quick task. Even if they had wanted to do something, they couldn’t.

When she got home and slipped under the sheets, it wasn’t hard to distract herself. Her favorite movie and a box of chocolates—stolen from her sister—were enough. Maybe she and Zayne could do something together the next weekend when he was free.

Her eyes started to close not long after. Even though her favorite movie was playing, keeping her eyes open felt almost impossible. Her body relaxed, and seconds later she almost fell asleep.

A pair of arms wrapping around her made her jolt up. She gasped, trying to pull away, but whoever was behind her held her in place.

“It’s me. You’re okay.”

Zayne’s voice made her instantly relax in his arms. Carefully, she turned to face him, still pressed against his chest. She had to be dreaming. She had to be. Zayne was supposed to be in surgery tonight—there was no way he was actually here. Holding her.

"Zaynie…” Her fingers brushed over his cheek, as if making sure he was real and not just another dream. A smile crept onto her lips when she confirmed that, yes, Zayne was actually there. “What are you doing here?”

His arms tightened around her, bringing her closer to him until there is no space between them. His familiar scent enveloped her. She had already made peace with the fact that she wouldn’t be spending Valentine’s Day with him, but somehow, here he was.

"I asked someone to could cover my shift at the hospital and tried to cancel my surgery tonight,” he murmured, burying his face in her hair—a habit he’d picked up recently. She made a mental note not to change her shampoo anytime soon. “My patient wasn’t too happy about it, though. She refused to let another doctor perform the surgery and she was not happy to spend another night without eating.”

When he pulled back slightly to look at her, a small smile played on his lips.

“And she let you go?” she asked, genuinely surprised. She knew how dedicated Zayne was to his work. He had already considered rescheduling her surgery earlier in the week, but his patient had been waiting so long that he just felt bad.

“Well, I told her I had a girlfriend waiting for me at home,” he said, his voice softer as he slowly shifted over her. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and she felt his fingers tracing gentle patterns along her thigh.

Zayne talking about her to a patient? That was new. Not that their relationship was a secret—everyone at the hospital knew. It was kind of hard not to when she spent most of her lunch breaks hanging around just to eat with him.

“And what did she say?” she asked, curious.

She knew his patient. An older woman—sweet and chatty. They had spoken once by accident, and she had actually liked her. Though the woman had never known she was dating Dr. Zayne.

“Let’s just say she gave me a whole speech about how spending time with my girlfriend was way more important,” he muttered, his lips trailing soft kisses from her cheek down to her neck.

She giggled, unsure if he was telling the truth or just making something up. Maybe it wasn’t a complete lie. She had met the older woman, after all, and she was incredibly kind.

For some people, Valentine’s Day didn’t mean much. But for her, it did. And she had told Zayne that, probably with way too much detail. She had decided she wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t take it seriously, but maybe she had been wrong. He had tried to cancel a surgery just to spend the night with her.

“I brought food from your favorite restaurant.”

Those words snapped her right out of her thoughts.

She pulled back slightly, eyes wide with excitement before letting out a small squeal. Her favorite restaurant. It was nearly impossible to get takeout from there, let alone a dinner reservation. She had so many questions. How had Zayne managed it? Had he waited hours just to get their order?

She was about to get up when she felt his firm grip stop her. A second later, he was lifting her into his arms, carrying her toward the kitchen.

They were going to have their own little Valentine’s dinner at home. And honestly? She couldn’t think of a better way to spend the night.

[n0vazsq]

Gasoline | Pablo Gavi x Reader

pairing . . . gavi x gf!reader

summary . . . When the world starts shipping him with random girls and influencers, Gavi decides to soft launch you two to shut them up. Little did he know, that only escalated things more, leading him to 'accidentaly' post a picture of you two on his social media.

request . . . yes!! based on this request!

word count . . . 1k+

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . gang nvm the name i was gonna do angst and this is a random ass fic bc i'm not uploading smh </3 anyway it's short and not proofread so ignore any typos or mistakes ALSO ITS VERY CRINGE I DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO PROVIDE IM SORRY

. . . "Are you sure I can post this, amor?" Pablo said, eyes full of concern as he searched your face for any hint of hesitance. This morning, he had come into your shared room, huffing and sighing as he showed you what seemed like the millionth edit of someone shipping him with an influencer.

You really didn't mind those edits, in fact, you quite enjoyed seeing Gavi get mad and annoyed at them. He had always complained to you about this, and even warned you about when you two first started dating. It was hilarious to see him pace around the room in frustration.

"I am sure, carino. Post as many pictures as you want, as long as you're happy, I guess." You shot him a playful grin, as he laughed and started showing you the collection of pictures he chose to post.

One was of your hands clasped together in front of a beautiful lake, another was of him hugging you with his face buried in your hair, another was one of you two making snow angels in the snow.

Pablo, of course, had made sure your face wasn't visible in any of these pictures, not even remotely. You saw him checking the selection of pictures over and over again, as if your face would magically appear in one of them. And when you tried to take the phone from his hands to post the pictures, he gave you a vexed face and continued inspecting.

Finally, after what seemed like millenniums, the soft launch was posted. Not even a minute later, there were over a thousand notifications, with almost eighy percent of them asking who the 'mystery woman' was. You glanced at your phone, seeing a few people mentioning you in the post.

Pablo groaned, running a hand through his already messy hair as he scrolled through the comments.

"WHO IS SHE???"

"I NEED ANSWERS. ASAP"

"this has to be an influencer bc there's no way he's soft launching some normal girl."

"omggg is it (random influencer's name)??"

You bit your lip, stifling a laugh as Pablo's jaw clenched. His grip on the phone tightened, and he let out a frustrated sigh before tossing it onto the bed.

"This is worse than before," he muttered, rubbing his temples.

"I mean…" you teased, nudging his side. "You did post the pictures. Did you really think they'd just say ‘okay’ and move on?"

Pablo groaned again, flopping onto the bed dramatically. "Amor, they're literally coming up with theories already. Look at this one." He held up his phone, showing you a tweet where someone had zoomed in on your hand and was trying to match your ring to different influencers.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter. "No way, are they seriously investigating my jewelry now?"

Pablo sat up, huffing. "This was supposed to shut them up, not make them even more annoying." His brows furrowed as he swiped through more comments. "You know what?" His voice had that familiar stubborn edge, the same one he had whenever he decided to prove a point.

"What?" you asked, watching as he opened his camera roll.

"If they want a picture so bad," he muttered, tapping furiously at his phone, "I'll give them one."

Before you could even process what was happening, he had posted a picture, one that he definitely hadn’t meant to. It wasn’t just another soft launch shot; it was a full on, undeniable, exposed confirmation.

A mirror selfie. You, standing in front of him, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist, and his lips pressed against the top of your head. Your face wasn’t even hidden, just slightly turned, but clear enough for people to recognize you.

Your jaw dropped. "Pablo!"

His rubbed the back of his neck slowly as he realized what he had done. "Mierda." His phone buzzed like crazy, notifications rolling in at an unstoppable speed.

"GAVI JUST HARD LAUNCHED AND I CAN'T BREATHE"

"NO WAY DID HE POST THIS BY ACCIDENT????"

"THE MYSTERY GIRL HAS A FACE. WE HAVE A FACE"

"she's so pretty omg?? i'm obsessed"

Your eyes narrowed as you studied Pablo’s face. His lips were pressed together like he was trying way too hard to look innocent, but the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth gave him away. "Did you really just-" You smacked his arm lightly, still in shock. "Pablo." You crossed your arms. "Did you just accidentally hard launch us?"

He blinked. "Si?"

You smacked his arm again. "You so did that on purpose!"

A guilty grin finally broke through his fake confusion, and he shrugged. "Maybe."

You gasped. "Pablo!"

"What?" he said, feigning innocence. "They were annoying me, amor. I had to make it clear. I'm your boyfriend, and I wanted everyone to know it." He leaned in, tilting his head slightly. "You're mad?"

You huffed, trying to hold onto your fake outrage, but the way he was looking at you; so smug yet so utterly whipped, made it impossible. "You could've at least warned me before declaring to the entire world that I'm your girlfriend."

Pablo just grinned, completely unbothered. "Where's the fun in that?" He held up his phone again, scrolling through the chaos he had created. "Mira esto," he said, showing you a tweet.

"GAVI REALLY SAID "HERE SHE IS, NOW SHUT UP" HELPPP"

"so…when's the wedding?"

"BRO IS WHIPPED LMFAOOO"

You bit your lip, warmth creeping up your neck and cheeks as you read the endless comments. The fans were going crazy, but instead of speculating or hating, they were supporting.

Pablo wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. "Carino, I'd do it again, you know." His voice was softer now, more serious. "I don't care what people say. I just wanted everyone to know that I'm yours, and you're mine."

Your heart melted right then and there.

With a dramatic sigh, you shook your head. "You're still an idiot."

He grinned widly. "Tu idiot." And before you could argue, he pressed a quick kiss to your lips; undeniable proof that, yeah, maybe he did know exactly what he was doing.

taglist . . . @barcapix ,, @f1lover55 ,, @ilovebarcaaaa ,, @notm4d1 ,, @httpsdana ,, @paucubarsisimp ,, @bernalswifeyy ,, @nngkay ,, @justaf1girl ,, @iamred-iamyellow (lmk if you want to join the taglist!)

[canyonmooncreations]

Okay so bratty princess reader x bodyguard tf141 has me in a chokehold and I love it so much. Is it okay if we get more of readers internal thoughts about why she’s so polite and lovely around Simon? Like I can imagine one day princess is down in the kitchen late at night looking for more ice cream and Simon is down there brewing some tea trying to wind down for the night, and as per usual brattyness, princess asks- no.. orders Simon to make her a bowl only to be met with, “Don’t you think it’s a bit late for that luv?” Does princess care? Fuck no, and when Simon doesn’t follow directions she goes to make a bowl herself only to be met with Simon grabbing the ice cream and raising it in the air away from princess, which was easy thanks to their height difference. Gently saying “I jus’ said that it’s too late for some ice cream, let’s get some tomorrow yeah?” And princess is just in shock. She’s never been told no, and even if she was it wasn’t like THAT. Her brain all frazzled with Simon’s authoritative yet gentle demeanor, she just gives up and scoffs, mumbling little threats under her breath as she stomps up stairs to her room.

I also see princess all embarrassed about that interaction because she’s so used to men her age not being like Simon

Also is it okay if I become 🐚 anon? :3

I love your writing so much !

Hey anon… you just got me out of my writer's block and I even felt the need to break out my laptop for this and I have many ideas for more parts…. Love youuuuu and yes you can be my little sea shell anon :)

This takes place before the last part as a little bit of backstory on why our bratty princess is only an angel for Mr. Riley 

“Mr. Riley. Two scoops of ice cream. Whipped cream on top.” You barked out. Not a please, not a thank you, and it definitely was not a question. If your father was to insist a broody man be with you at all times, they could at least be useful, right? 

“Don’t you think it’s a bit late for that luv?”

Seriously? Who is he to tell you it’s too late for ice cream? Fuck that. You give him an eye roll, missing the way his demeanor shifts at your attitude. If you paid any attention to him you’d see he is enjoying this little attitude of yours. You move to the kitchen determined to get your sweet treat. You get your bowl and the scoop, then walk around the beast of a man and head to the freezer. As your hand reaches for the ice cream, Simon’s large hand beats you to it. 

“Come on!” You’re getting frustrated. Maybe you should report this to your father, but what would he care? They’re job is to protect you, not ruin your life. 

“I jus’ said that it’s too late for some ice cream, let’s get some tomorrow yeah?”

It is like your brain short circuited. Did he just tell you no? You couldn’t remember the last time someone told the princess no. But the way he said it, in the deep yet calm and authoritative tone? It is hard to process. You let out a small huff and groan (and maybe even a little stomp). As you make your way back upstairs, you replay the conversation over and over in your head.  

The way his body was so close to yours, his eyes looking down at you from his hulking frame, and the way his face was soft yet suggesting you don’t try to argue with him. His whole demeanor, his body language…. 

You catch your face turning red and can’t help but groan as you flop into your bed. Who is this man to tell you no?? And why are you so flustered by it?? 

The next day as you roll out of bed the night before still plays on repeat in your head. All through your morning routine you can’t help but feel flustered. You are just hoping they have switched shifts and you don’t have to confront him again today. 

The world is not on your side this morning…. When you walk down for breakfast, there he stands in the kitchen nearly in the same spot as the night before. You can feel your cheeks turning heating up again. 

“Mornin’ princess.” He grumbles out. Your new bashful and embarrassed demeanor does not go unnoticed to him and you miss the way he smirks slightly. Is that all it takes to tame the bratty princess? A simple authoritative tone? 

You reply with a short good morning and begin to fix your breakfast. 

“Sit down luv, I already made you breakfast.” 

You are shocked to find yourself following his orders thoughtlessly. It is like your brain just turns off and does whatever he tells you to do. And to be honest? You kind of like it. 

Your eyes go wide as he delivers a bowl with two scoops, whipped cream, and sprinkles. 

“Told you we would get some tomorrow, yeah?” 

“Thank you, Mr. Riley.” You give him a small smile trying not to melt at his tone yet again. 

He smiles as he turns around knowing that he’s got you tamed. It was much simpler than he thought. Just some authority and gentleness? From this moment on, you don’t question him. You never argue. You are simply a sweet princess, but only for Mr. Riley.

MASTERLIST

[balrogballs]

happy valentines day to everyone but especially to ✨ wife guys ✨ as a treat, have a little Celedriel ficlet about how much they love each other because they simply are not leaving my skull atm:

The Homecoming

“They face everything hand in hand every time they must, from hornets to sorcerers, blinking and bewildered by what the world has become. Long oceans and lost homelands; floors of green grass grinning below treetops, they are limitless.”

He first met Galadriel under an upside-down tree and she had asked him whether it was his tree. Celeborn was not certain as to whose tree it was but in the face of her hair he felt himself succumb to spontaneous moral depletion and barefacedly told her that it was not only his tree, but that it was him that put it upside down, because he thought seeming artistically inclined would work in his favour with the Nolde. On the evening they exchanged betrothal vows he felt so ridiculously guilty about his little lie that he admitted it and watched her laugh until she cried and frankly, felt quite pleased with himself.

Celeborn enjoyed sitting around just looking at her and there were people who said that such pursuits were pointless for an elf of his lineage, militaristic credentials and bearing.

Absolutely, he would agree quite seriously. They absolutely are pointless. This is such a problem, thank you for pointing it out. I’ll sit right here, just where I am, look out of the window into her garden, and wonder what to do about it, say for the next few hundred years. Now it is a difficult task, please, leave me to it.

“Most know my father is like a raincloud if rainclouds shat gold,” Celebrían once told Elrond, who apprehensively glanced at the fearsome commander he spent a century under siege alongside, as if he would twist off his head for not only conversing shamelessly with his daughter but gossiping about him. “But few remember that my mother picks up every coin and spends it with glee.”

She does indeed.

Galadriel never did anything as Celeborn as sitting about gazing adoringly at people, but that was only because she, with her strange and awkward stubbornness, wrestled the vague shape of him into most things she beheld. She could be on a deserted shore and she would trick her own eyes into finding him atop a marvellous shipwreck or petrified salt-rock. Every space and time in her life which required courage to pass through, she would conjure him and he would appear like a — no, not a phantom, Celeborn was too easygoing and frothy-laughed and light-footed to be particularly good at melancholic hauntings, he’d be far too happy drifting about in the empty spaces of the world. Perhaps a poltergeist, then. Or a very controlled mirage.

Lothlorien was intimate solitude, the quiet before fireworks. They never told others of how they love and live, they were the two of them, and then one day their remarkable Celebrían. Cello-baby, he called her because she hated it. Monkey-child, Galadriel named her, because she was. They shared each other wholly and without care and it meant all their joys were tripled and it meant that when Cello-baby left for good the loss was thrice as unbearable than it would have been otherwise.

Nothing endures for so long as love between the Eldar. As the centuries pass, their love shapes the world and shapes itself to it. Galadriel, scrying mirror and treelit hair, the world in her hands and Celeborn in her heart. They shape the forest and through the forest, the world: the Cello-baby shaped vacancies between their embraces, the hunting grounds and tree-top love affairs. They covet sameness and turn it to difference. The slow rot spreads across Arda and they cling to each other through time to feel alive in the dying world, like bees suspended in a jar of sticky honey, fleas in the rough, matted neck of a stray-cat. They do not cling to a folded-down page in history but burrow their way through the book itself.

Mithrandir once asks her if she does not feel inconsequential in the forest. Without the marauding ranger circle around Imladris, away from the corrosion of Mirkwood, he asks her if she never longed to fly further. Whether she could not see the forest for the trees.

“Perhaps our landscape makes you feel inconsequential, Mithrandir,” she says dryly. She doesn’t wear shoes at home — a habit her daughter carried to Imladris and passed on to her three, and then to Eldarion, and then ever onwards. But yes, Galadriel spins in a dizzy circle in the little room and says, “but I have all the world I need. I can see what I must, and I will do what I will when the world and the Valar will it. But inconsequential? Amidst hornets nests and horsefly season? In the forest fire of the previous year, this sunset and the next, for these little things I am time and space itself. We are.”

Celeborn has Galadriel feeling limitless even in the smallest of rooms. They face everything hand in hand every time they must, from hornets to sorcerers, blinking and bewildered by what the world has become. He has her back and she has his heart. With his solid weight behind her she can swallow future after future with dangerous abandon. He is not the risk but the reason for it: he is so alive it is almost irritating. Long oceans and lost homelands; floors of green grass grinning below treetops, they are limitless.

Age after age rolls by and they do not stop loving each other in their strange, incomprehensible way. An oddly domesticated love language seemingly apathetic to external perception, the way the spool predicts the pattern of its unravelling, how even on the darkest nights they can reach out to the other and find the little hook where their truest selves hang, trusting in the mnemonics of homecoming. They are an arithmetic problem that never asked to be solved. They are simply Galadriel and Celeborn, under an upside down tree, always and ever.

[pretty-bratty]

'It's Peter. Parker.'

He slides the phone back into his pocket without much hope. No one will reply - haven't in all these months - and even if someone would, it would be a very annoyed Happy.

It's September, and the mornings are foggy-pink like apples, the evenings are orange from streetlights and fallen leaves - and Peter's been living with this bittersweet mix of hope and anxiety since Germany.

Since Mr. Stark gave him that little talk in the car. Peter tries not to die from embarrassment every time he remembers that not hug.

"You sure you're okay, kid? No feeling sick, dizziness, any other fun stuff?"

Peter hurried to nod, then shake his head. The movement echoed with the pain.

"Yeah, no, I'm-I'm totally fine!"

I don't want you to go.

But Mr. Stark - Tony - had a long night ahead. Lots to discuss with Captain America and the others. Lots to figure out about Cap's friend, the one with the cool arm. And Peter, well, Peter wasn't needed in any of this. Not anymore.

That fight in Berlin airport ended almost as soon as it started. Everyone stopped throwing superpowered punches and started talking, right after-

No. Peter forbids himself to think about it. This memory is saved for before sleep.

And right now he better focus on whatever Ned is saying.

"...in the news."

"Huh?" Peter whips his head to look at his best friend. "Sorry, what's in the news?"

"Mr. Stark," Ned repeats patiently, slurping apple juice. "Saw them in the morning news, him and Cap."

"Really?"

Peter almost asks what suit was Mr. Stark wearing, but bites his tongue before the words slip out. He's not a fangirl gossiping about a popstar. He's just gonna see it himself on YouTube after school.

"They've been asked if a part of the Avengers tower could be open for school field trips."

"Really?!"

Okay, he's repeating himself, but - seriously, he missed that?!

"Yup." Ned smiles dreamily. "Mr. Stark said it's a great idea-"

"Really?!?"

This time Ned gives him a look, and Peter giggles sheepishly. Yeah, alright.

"Yeah dude. Don't get your hopes high though. Cap banned it."

Ugh.

"Said it's dangerous and blah blah blah."

"And rightfully so." Michelle chimes in, and Peter didn't even know she was here. "Imagine all this herd near the alien weapon and superpowered technology."

"O-o-oh, you're the Avengers fan?!" Ned's eyes immediately sparkle as he turns to her.

"Who said so?"

Peter tunes out, looking at the cafeteria. Flash is trying to pour juice into someone's - surprisingly, not Peter's - milk. Yeah. Michelle and Captain Rogers have a point.

But at the same time, what if he could go?! What if they saw him, and remembered how good he did in Berlin (they said so themselves back then), and then Cap would be like 'You could actually help us out with this one, Peter', and Mr. Stark would be like 'I was actually about to tell you to start reporting straight to me, not Happy', and!

And even all that aside, it's just. It would be so cool to just see Mr. Stark.

"Duuude, you totally have a crush." Ned gives him a toothy smile, and Peter realizes, horrified, that he said the last phrase out loud.

"No I don't," he quickly looks around, feeling how hot - and undoubtedly red - his face is. Apparently, Michelle already went away, and Ned was the only one to hear that. Thanks God. "I don't really do crushes, Ned, you know. It's-it's different."

"How different?"

The bell rings, getting them hurrying to Spanish class and saving Peter from the inquisition.

Well, not fully - Ned keeps whispering questions the whole class.

Do you wanna play Kiss-marry-kill and pick from Mr. Stark, Cap and Black Widow?

Would you like him to personally check your internship work?

Imagine if he picked you up from school in one of his cool cars, would you - scratch that, who wouldn’t have wanted it.

Peter is almost grateful when Mr. Ramirez threatens them with detention.

After school he manages to run away, yelling about being late to the internship. The look on Ned's face tells him he's already planning to bombard him with questions tomorrow.

***

The patrolling goes as always. Boring. Yeah, no, it feels great to swing around the city, getting all his energy out and helping wherever it's needed. But so far the highlight of his day is the churro from this nice old Mexican lady - until he sees a robbery near Mr. Delmar's place.

Everything goes exciting at first - he even manages to make a cool fight-talk, before one of the guys pulls out that weird-looking weapon. Peter's muscles tense - and seconds later the whole place explodes. Literally.

He barely remembers how he runs into the sandwich place, helping Mr. Delmar and carrying Murph out. The next thing he sees is the splash of red, white and blue, accompanied by the big wings shadow in the sky. Captain America and Falcon. Peter looks for the flash of red and gold, with the sounds of Led Zeppelin or whatever - heart rabbiting faster than when the actual explosion happened. But there's nothing. He ducks from the Avengers' sight, running into the alley where he left his backpack and clothes, tugs the mask off, and-

"Peter."

For a millisecond his heart drops in his stomach and freezes there, but then he recognizes the voice difference. He turns around to face Steve Rogers - starry shield and all.

"Uh, yes sir? Hi?"

Hi? How lame.

"You were there, fighting with the robbers."

It's not even a question, so Peter just shrugs. Like no biggie, he's doing it every day. Ugh.

"Would you recognize them?"

"No. They were wearing masks, Avengers masks actually. Maybe it's like, something personal?"

Cap makes a thoughtful noise, nodding absentmindedly.

"Where's your friend?" Peter shuts his mouth, but the words are out already.

"Sam?" Cap furrows his brows in confusion. "He's helping with the-"

"No, I saw him." Peter cuts him off. Yeeaaah, May would've been just delighted with his manners. "The other one, from Germany. With the metal arm."

"Oh. Bucky..." there are so many different emotions in how Captain says this name. It feels overwhelming. "He's getting...back to himself. I hope."

He adds the last phrase so quietly that a normal person wouldn't have made it out. Spidey senses deliver it to Peter loud and clear.

"He's nice." Peter offers him a little smile. "Especially when we stopped trying to kill each other."

Captain actually chuckles at that, shaking his head. Then nods back to the explosion.

"Stay away from trouble like this, kid." His face gets the usual shade of solemn. "Those are dangerous people, we'll take care of them."

"I can help!"

"Like I said, it's too dangerous. I'm glad Tony's keeping an eye on you..."

Apparently something's flickering on Peter's face, because Cap frowns. Uh-oh, time to go, time to go. He stumbles back, nearly tripping over a trashcan, and giving Cap a bigger and hopefully not so fake smile.

"Um, sorry, but I actually gotta go, Aunt May will start worrying if I'm not home!"

Captain Rogers crosses his arms, worry clearly showing on his face now.

"Peter? He is, right?"

But he just pulls his mask down, jumps off and swings away, leaving the national hero without an answer. Holy shit.

***

He should've just said yes. Because obviously, Happy being his curator is considered as Mr. Stark keeping an eye on him. And maybe Happy not replying to his messages doesn't mean he's not caring! And now Captain Rogers would tell Mr. Stark about his encounter with Peter, and Mr. Stark would come and yell at him, and oh my God. Well, at least he would talk to him. Except if he's gonna call Peter an ungrateful brat who he doesn't want to do anything with, and Peter wouldn't be able to bear that.

He stops mid-climbing, tears the mask off and presses his face into the red-bricked wall of his building. It's cold to the touch. The night air is chilly and dark blue and full of police sirens and big city noises.

All Ned's questions suddenly pop up in Peter's mind, but none of them are helpful. Peter doesn't know how to call what he feels for Tony Stark, what he's longing for, and what label to put it under. He almost wishes it was a crush, because it would be normal. He would be normal.

What lives and burns in his chest is something in between adoration of a role model, falling in love and needing a father figure - or maybe all of those combined.

He wants to be near him. He wants to do as he says and be good for him. Or not do what he says - and find out what happens.

He just wants Tony to really care about him. To care about him the most of all. Like during that short time - no, Peter, stop - in Berlin airport... He tries to stop thinking back to that moment but fails. He lets his eyes close and sees everything as if it's happening right now.

***

Thinking back, adrenaline - that's what Peter felt the most. The rest was just a big noisy mess, flooding the whole world and overwhelming his senses. He missed when and how the reasonable - well, sort of - conversation turned into a fight. Maybe it happened while he was too busy filming? But anyways, everyone was fighting now. And it wasn't a cool battle against baddies, wasn't protecting what's right from what's evil. There weren't bad guys. There were confused guys, hurt guys, guys who didn't manage to talk it all out, and now were too angry and adrenaline-infused to do anything but fight and hurt each other. They reminded Peter a bunch of riled up first graders. What could he do though? Mr. Stark got his full and devoted loyalty...he wasn't sure when exactly that happened. Maybe even before the man burst into his little room, spitting date loaf and making innuendos about May. That's - that's whatever. Peter didn't really want to fight other Avengers, and he wanted Mr. Stark to fight them even less, because he saw how hurt it actually makes him.

Yet, here they were. Fighting.

"Sorry, guys, I just really gotta impress Mr. Stark!" Peter yells to Cap's friends.

One just looks annoyed, and the other - the mysterious metal-armed one - bugs his eyes out. Peter knows that he's the reason the whole ruckus started and that Mr. Stark doesn't like him for some reason.

"S' just a kid," the metal-armed dude breathes out, and okay, now Peter doesn't like him too.

He webs him down to the concrete, smirking under the mask.

"How's that from a kid?!"

Metal Arm is grunting something, but Peter doesn't have time to listen. There's something crazy going on.

"Hey guys, have you ever seen this really old movie, The Empire Strikes Back?!"

His spidey senses are overflowing with information. He's overexcited, high on adrenaline, giddy with being accepted by real superheroes, and-

BOOM.

Something huge, like a train on full speed, smashes into him. Peter sees stars flashing under his eyelids - cartoons don't lie, it really happens - and then everything goes black and he starts falling. He tries to use his webshooters, but for some reason it doesn't work out. Everything's going awfully fast. Peter hears someone cursing, flails his arms around, heart in his stomach - and suddenly there's a strong grip across his body. Peter opens his eyes - turns out he was squeezing them shut - and sees the metal arm. There's a red star on it. The next moment the grip changes, and there's a soothing glow of shiny upturned triangle, and red and gold suit, and Peter blacks out.

When he wakes up, Black Widow is giving Mr. Stark an incredulous look.

"Jesus Christ, Tony. If I knew that's what you meant by 'your guy', I would've said no right away."

Peter pouts at her, and it only makes her nod as if in confirmation.

"See? That's exactly what I'm talking about."

"It's an actual child, Tony!" That's Cap.

Seems like they didn't kill each other while Peter was unconscious. Which is, would be nice to know for how long.  Everything feels funny. Maybe he has a concussion?

"What?! Don't give me that judging glare, Capsicle. You just dropped half a building on that child-"

"And I was wrong!"

"-even your assassin bestie didn't do that."

That's the first time Mr. Stark addresses Metal Arm not as a mortal enemy, and everyone falls quiet, staring.

"And this is what I've been trying to talk to you about," Cap gets everyone's pointed looks and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Yeah, okay. I haven't really. And it was wrong of me. I should have."

Peter opens his mouth - for some reason, it feels awfully dry, and it takes an effort to part his lips.

"S' so stupid, you fighting." He cannot believe he's saying this to the Avengers, his heroes, for crying out loud. He definitely has a concussion. "S' how all the worst wars happen..."

He blacks out again after that, and when he wakes up, everything's over. The brewing war that was about to start never happens. Mr. Stark and Captain are talking, then them both and Metal Arm are talking, everyone is talking and no one has time for Peter.

And actually, he should've understood back then - he's just not needed anymore. Because he was just that - 'my guy' as in a help in a fight, not as in 'mine'.

***

He shakes himself out of the memories, realizing he's still clinging to the wall, without a mask, cheek warming up the old bricks. Without a mask! What if someone sees him! What if May sees him - what's he even thinking about!

Peter lets out a sharp breath and quickly picks up his pace. Up, into the window, climb over the ceiling, quietly close the door - why is it even open - on the floor. He taps the suit, letting it loosen and fall down, leaving him in boxers.

"Agility - 10 out of 10. Attention - we're going to negative numbers here." The painfully familiar voice speaks up from the semi-darkness of his bed, and Peter stumbles and plops on his ass.

"Correction, 9 instead of 10." Mr. Stark watches him intently, popping some snack into his mouth.