#Show Me Strong Recovery

[theanonymousninja247]

My reaction to this comic. I literally waited ALL day to come home from work to take this picture because this was just too real and raw for me not to be real myself to show how much it shook me

so face reveal sorta?

I can’t tell you how much closure I’ve received watching this 😪🙏🏼🫶🏼🧡

✨Note to self: Isolation is not the answer✨

This ended up way longer than I originally anticipated but I have no regrets, I also got carried away in one too many shots and regret none of it

Enjoy!

part1 | part2 | part3 | part 4 context: 1 / 2/ 3 / 4

After calming down the two of them just sit down and talk about it, Oneion explains everything more calmly, all the messures his brothers have taken to prevent him going into Survival Mode along with the ways they've find out to snap him out or fully stop him

(From then on Sprout has a high voltage taser intalled on his prostethic, just in case)

This is pretty much it on my part for the whole OneOne-Toast fight aftermath situation! Ell did a thing with One and Poptart too!

I also have some more Sprout and Oneion doodles, they are not connected to this event but I might post them over the weekend

[alotofpockets]

Staring | Leah Williamson x Interviewer!Reader

Where you're interviewing Leah, and she can't stop staring at you

Woso masterlist | Words: 1.1k

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Usually, you felt prepared when interviewing someone. Always doing a bit of research beforehand and going over your notes one last time before they arrive. But today you were more nervous than you had ever been before.

You’ve interviewed plenty of celebrities on your radio show before, but your guest today was the first one you were really nervous about meeting. She was a guest you didn’t have to do a lot of research on, as you were a bigger fan of her than you cared to admit. Leah Williamson was set to show up in the next few minutes. While most people knew her for her football, having captained the Lionesses to victory in the Euros, to you she represented so much more. The way she used her platform for the better, never shying away from harder topics, shedding a light on the more taboo subjects, you admired that part of her.

As you flipped through your notes, in an effort to calm your nerves, a soft knock on your open door startled you. The unexpected sound sent your notes flying through the air. You spun around just in time to see Leah rushing over.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.” Her voice was soft and apologetic. Leah had gathered most of your papers before you had even had time to react. She handed you the papers with a sheepish smile.

Meanwhile her cousin, Jordan, watched the scene unfold with a knowing grin. She knew Leah well, and could immediately tell that Leah thought you were attractive, and while she didn’t know you, she could tell by the light blushing off your cheeks, that you thought the same about Leah.

“I’m Jordan, by the way.” Jordan cut through the silence that filled the room after the two of you had introduced yourselves to each other. You blinked, realising you had been too lost in the moment to even realise that there was another person in the room. 

You quickly turned to the voice with a warm smile, “Nice to meet you, Jordan. Thank you for joining us today.” Leah smiled gratefully, giving her cousin a nod. “It means a lot to have her with me to talk about the book, so thank you.���

Luckily during the interview your nerves settled a bit. You were totally in your element in your recording studio. Behind the microphone with your headset on, it gave you the comfort you needed to completely forget about anything else besides giving the listeners a good interview.

You started off talking with just Leah, while Jordan sat to the side. Speaking about her recovery from her ACL injury, as well as her comeback, but mostly focussing on the mental health aspect of her recovery. Just like Leah, you used your platform to speak about subjects that weren’t talked about enough, using your platform to show that struggling with your mental health isn’t something you need to hide.

It was wonderful getting to speak with Leah about it, and get to hear her experience on it on a deeper level than she had spoken out about before. Throughout your conversation you and Leah held a lot of eye contact. When you spoke, you made sure to speak around the room, and also make eye contact with Jordan and your staff members. But every time your eyes made their way to Leah, she was still watching you. 

At one point Leah’s gaze on you was so strong that you stumbled a bit over your words. You cursed yourself for letting your feelings get to you while you were live on the radio. Meanwhile Leah was watching with a proud smirk at your stumble, but so lost in the moment that Jordan had to nudge her to answer your question.

Luckily the next part of the interview would be about the book, so Jordan joined in on the conversation. You spoke on how it was to write the book, as well as what it was about, and what they wanted it to say to children. 

You were excited to hear all about it, as your two nieces loved Leah, and you had read the other books in the series plenty of times with them. Getting a little insight into the story that was ahead was definitely going to score you some auntie points.

After wrapping up the interview, your staff members left the room, and Jordan quickly made an excuse as well, leaving the two of you alone. “My nieces are going to be so jealous, they’re big fans of yours.” 

“I was hoping you were a big fan.” Leah said with a challenging, yet playful look in her eyes. Your cheeks flushed and you were at a loss for words. “I’ll tell you what, I will sign a copy for each of your nieces and they can have the books before they’re released.” 

Your eyes widened, “You would do that?” Leah smirked, “Yeah, just on one condition though. You have to admit that you’re a fan.” You chuckled, “Of course, I am a fan. How could I not?” Now it was Leah’s turn to get flustered at your words.

Leah signed two copies, each with a little personalised message for your nieces. “Here, hand me your phone real quick.” You did so without hesitation, and watched as Leah recorded a little video for them as well. 

“Thank you so much, Leah. They are going to be so happy with all of this. My auntie points are going to be through the roof!” Before Leah hands you back your phone, she quickly types her number into your phone. “Well if you want to get more points, text me and I can get you all into a match.”

“Are you sure? That’s so kind.” Leah smiles and nods, “Of course, it means I get to see you again.” Your heart starts beating fast, you weren’t imagining things right? “I- eh thank you.”

Jordan walked back into the room, “Have you asked her out yet? We have to head back.” You both blush at her words. “I eh, I hadn’t gotten that far. But yeah, I would love to see you again. Would you like to go out for lunch some time this week?” 

Your smile grew, “I would love to.” With a racing heart you stood there. “Glad you got there and I didn’t have to do everything for you.” Jordan joked, earning herself a glare from Leah. 

“I have to go, before she embarrasses me more, but text me later to make plans?” You smile at her, “Yeah that sounds good, looking forward to it.” Leah looks back before walking out of the door, “Me too.” 

-----

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗

[fastandcarlos]

Stuck With Me : ̗̀➛ Jack Doohan

summary: as jack signs his contract with alpine, you soon realise that actually you’re pretty happy to be stuck with him on the team for a little while longer

pairing: jack x f1academy!reader

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by olliebearman, pierregasly and 179,503 others

jackdoohan: always fun spending race weekend in the garage and learning, thank you as always alpine for having me, plenty learnt to take with me moving forwards 🏎️💙

27,052 comments

username1: I wish it was you we got to see in that car instead 😭

estebanocon: awesome to see you, good luck for the rest of the season ☺️

username2: buzzing to see you back in the garage again jack!!

liam.lawson: sweet talk them some more and you might just get a seat 😉

jackdoohan: @/liam.lawson saw right through me huh 😂

username3: wishing that alpine saw how talented you really are and signed you up 💔

ynusername: nice to see you, and maybe show you a thing or two too 😂

jackdoohan: @/ynusername I’m always learning from you 😊

username4: alpine are so damn lucky to have you 🥺

username5: not long until you’ll be behind the wheel jack 🤞🏻

pierregasly: thanks for all your help on the car this weekend!

username6: please make sure you’re at the rest of the races this year, you’re my favourite face on the screen

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by estebanocon, racerbia and 36,068 others

ynusername: another race, another win!! so proud to have got the win here in zandvoort and get plenty of momentum behind me moving forwards as we look to finish off the season strong 💪🏻🏆

4,947 comments

username7: you were amazing out there today 👏🏻

racerbia: can you save some race wins for the rest of us??? 😘

username8: so proud of you yn, controlled that race from start to finish!!

jackdoohan: who knew you were so talented 🤯

ynusername: @/jackdoohan my parents always believed in me thank you very much 😭

username9: formula 1 academy world title pending…⏳

pierregasly: good job out there, glad I got to watch you race again ☺️

username10: can’t believe I finally got to watch you race today, you were electric ⚡️

dorianepin: congrats yn, I’ll get ya next time 😂

username11: you never fail to make your fans so proud 🥺

olliebearman: that race was awesome, you gotta show me how you handled turn 2 like that for next year!!

ynusername: @/olliebearman gimme a time and date and I’m there 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by liam.lawson, oscarpiastri and 58,401 others

jackdoohan: a week off means getting plenty of recovery in and getting back of the waves. amazing to spend it with my favourite person too 🫶🏻

7,052 comments

username12: I’m sorry since when were you a taken man???

oscarpiastri: I’m just going to pretend that middle photo doesn’t exist 😭

username13: you can’t just throw something like this at us jack wtf!

arthur_leclerc: I thought I was the only lover in your life 😭

jackdoohan: @/arthur_leclerc you’re my one true love, this is just a fling bby

username14: you mean to say our fictional relationship can’t come true now 😭

liam.lawson: there’s a whole chapter we seem to have missed out here my friend…

jackdoohan: @/liam.lawson I’ll fill you in at the paddock 😘

username15: have I ever told you how much I hate soft launchers!?

danielricciardo: proud of ya kiddo 😉😉

username16: I want to say congrats but inside my heart is breaking 💔

ynusername: that’s some pretty cool waves you’ve got yourself there 🏖️

jackdoohan: @/ynusername waves aren’t the only thing I’m riding this holiday 🙃

username17: not me more focused on how incredible that body looks in a swimsuit 😂

kimi.antonelli: are we just going to pretend that this middle photo doesn’t exist??

username18: as long as you’re happy jack, most of us fan girls are happy for you too 🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by pierregasly, ynusername and 73,038 others

jackdoohan: such a proud day for me and my family to share that i have officially signed to drive with the alpine f1 team next year. thank you to my team, family and friends for constantly supporting me through the years 🏎️💙

16,968 comments

olliebearman: can’t wait to enter my rookie era with you 😘

jackdoohan: @/olliebearman wouldn’t have it any other way sweetie 😘

username19: there’s never been anyone more deserving of a contract than you!

pierregasly: can’t wait to drive alongside you next year - it’s gonna be awesome!!

username20: can’t wait to see you out on the grid next year 🤩

oscarpiastri: congratulations future formula 1 driver 🤝

username21: you and pierre are gonna be the dream team i can already tell 🤩

ynusername: congratulations ✨ can’t wait to have you officially as part of the team!

jackdoohan: @/ynusername guess you’re officially stuck with me now 😂

username22: can’t wait to be your biggest fan for all the races next year 🥹

username23: future world champion for sure!!!

danielricciardo: another aussie on the grid 🇦🇺🦘

username24: we’re all so proud of you jack, you’re gonna smash it 💪🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by dorianepin, jackdoohan and 23,950 others

ynusername: end of the season and new adventures on their way. looking forward to the next four weeks with my favourite human being 🥺

7,403 comments

username25: wait since when has this been a thing!? 🤯

racerbia: really out here living your best life ain’t ya? 👑

username26: have i woken up from sort of dream to see this 🤔

jackdoohan: what sorta boyfriend would take you out on a zip line like that? 🤔

ynusername: @/jackdoohan definitely one cooler than you 💆🏻‍♀️

jackdoohan: @/ynusername good job I’ve got my own girlfriend to explore with then 🥺

username27: so glad to see you enjoying your break so good yn 🥺

username28: what is it with drivers and teasing us about their partners 😭

landonorris: since you won the championship you’ve really gone for that aesthetic blog look eh!? 👏🏻

username29: as impressive as that last photo is, my eyes can’t look away from the middle 👀

hausmann.tina: idk what your secrets are but I need to know them asap 😂

username30: favourite human…who is this favourite human you speak of???

pierregasly: please do not break a bone on holiday or alpine will lose their minds 😁

username31: all I want is to know who the lucky guy is…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri and 22,859 others

ynusername: starting off the season strong with pierre, whenever you fancy showing your face around here @/jackdoohan that would be lovely 😂

4,859 comments

username32: not jack already being thrown under the bus by his fellow drivers 😂

olliebearman: nothing like impressing the bosses on the first day jack 🤦🏻‍♂️

username33: anyone else think jack and yn seem to be suspiciously close to each other 🤔

pierregasly: at least I can rely on you to be on time yn 😂

ynusername: @/pierregasly 🫡🫡🫡

username34: why do I get the feeling pierre and yn are gonna gang up on jack this year 😂

kimi.antonelli: you get used to his poor time keeping I promise you yn ⏳

username35: it really is pick on the rookie season rn!

jackdoohan: some of us wanted to take the time to make sure we look presentable rather than like we just rolled out of bed ☺️

ynusername: @/jackdoohan that’s a harsh thing to say about pierre 😂

username36: I am OBSESSED with the interactions between these two!!!

username37: you know when someone pretends to be mean to distract from something…I wonder 🤔

estebanocon: sure you’re not missing me yet???

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by olliebearman, kimi.antonelli and 59,301 others

ynusername: i guess i can’t keep him a secret forever 🥺💞

12,067 comments

username38: how did no one actually figure this out 🤦🏻‍♀️

olliebearman: at least I don’t need to ask you how your summer break was anymore…

pierregasly: everyone please pray for me having to work alongside these two 🙏🏻

username39: okay but it’s undeniable that these two look incredible together

jackdoohan: I loved being your little secret, but I love being your boyfriend to the whole world more 💕

username40: I thought they hated each other, turns out they love each other 😂

dorianepin: breathing through the pain of knowing you didn’t tell me about this 💔

ynusername: @/dorianepin I’m sorry just didn’t want to risk anything 🥹

liam.lawson: thank god I don’t don’t have to keep my mouth shut anymore 🤐

username41: they really managed to fool us all…

oscarpiastri: wow you two did not hang around did you 😂

username42: imagine having to be the poor head of pr at alpine right now 😬

danielricciardo: ik I joked that f1 was good for the ladies jack but this isn’t what I expected 😂

jackdoohan: @/danielricciardo what can I say, when you know, you know 💞

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 97,402 others

jackdoohan: an f1 contract wasn’t the only prize I managed to bag myself last season ❤️🌊

24,958 comments

username43: not jack coming at us with the cheesiest caption known to man 😂

arthur_leclerc: I don’t even recognise you anymore 😂

ynusername: turns out you signing for alpine was a pretty cool moment for both of us 🥺

username44: damn he really is a man in love!

username45: already obsessed with this duo and what they’re gonna do on the track this year

pierregasly: fyi there’s a clause in your contract that bans pda in the paddock (definitely didn’t just make this up!)

username46: we need a ship name asap 🛳️

landonorris: the real question though is which prize was better? 😉

jackdoohan: @/landonorris you don’t even need to ask 💕💕

username47: how did none of the grid manage to figure this out!?

username48: this is certainly one way to make sure everyone knows your name 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[qwimblenorrisstan]

(new chapters might come later than usual bc my friend went missing and I’m trying to find them, but I hope you guys enjoy this own! i tried switching it up and giving a few different perspectives, and there’s also a lot of seemingly hypocritical and paradoxical emotions, but this isn’t just me forgetting what I made my characters feel earlier, I just think they’d have a large mix and range of feelings)

(edit: my missing friend was found, don’t have any more details but I know they’re safe at least)

tw: panic attack?, zoning out, jealousy, almost distressing, mentions of abuse, tomato soup (ew), more abuse, just a bit of comfort (not rlly tho)

“Where’s—“

“Hush.”

Ghost’s words were quickly cut off with Price’s finger to his lips as he stood outside the door, your door, looking through the thin mesh wired window that proceed the tiniest glance in.

Simon had been looking for Johnny since morning. Soap wasn’t bound to his bed anymore, but that didn’t mean he needed to be all up and about. He was still technically at risk for PTSD episodes, panic attacks, confusion, hell, even the thought of him having to go through that alone was enough to make Ghost nervous.

But curiosity struck him like a train when he saw Price staring so intently through that window. All he expected was you laying there, hiding, still affected by the strange mental state you were in.

However, as he moved closer, he caught the tiniest whiff of it through the door. Underneath Price’s scent, a bittersweet mix of jealousy and guilt, was Johnny’s. In that room.

And Simon should’ve felt happy for the way Johnny’s scent had lost that bitter edge that seemed to have been there since the beginning of his recovery, but all he felt was something building up in his chest, something he thought had left a long, long time ago. Price moved out of the way, a glint of emotion in his eyes as he went to walk down the hallway, his posture stiff and tense.

He looked through the window, the dimly lit room showing Johnny and their alpha curled up on the floor. Simon’s first thought was that Johnny shouldn’t have been on the floor like that, that he might rip a stitch, that he could get cold and that protective urge to provide and keep him safe and warm. An urge, an instinct he’d smothered years ago, had tortured out of him in an abandoned warehouse somewhere in Ukraine years ago.

You were nearly shivering, just barely not because of Johnny, the weakness that was his strong instincts taking over and making him curl up around you in disregard for his own health.

Soap had always had the strongest instincts, never tried to smother them, never been ashamed of his urge to keep his team safe and care for them, make food for them, nest with them. Ghost had never understood it.

His father had been an insecure beta, always angry, always drinking to distract himself from how he felt displaced in society, with no instincts, heats, or ruts for himself. He’d resented his own nature, breaking apart the pack of the family, cruel punishment for any showing of instincts, spewing about how it was weakness.

Price had spent years undoing that ideology, countless gifts, courting for years, and it still lingered.

Feeling an anger terrifyingly similar to what he’d always imagined his father must’ve felt build in his chest, he went to walk off. Johnny would be fine. You would be fine. It wasn’t like he cared. He didn’t want to court you, didn’t want you in their nest. Sure, he felt a bit bad, you’d gotten into this whole state because of him, but the others would handle all the emotional instinctual bullshit.

They always did.

~

John’s eyes skimmed over the paperwork on his desk, trying not to notice the voice in the back of his mind, his omega whispering to him.

“It’s going to fall apart.”

No, it wouldn’t. Their pack had been established for years now, long before you’d ever arrived. One single incident surely wasn’t enough to make it fall apart, even if he felt the bonds fraying more every day, with every cold night spent in his office while the others were in the nest.

Except Johnny.

Poisonous, intoxicating words slipped from the back of his mind and slowly moved to the forefront as he got more distracted from his paperwork, from reality. Words blurred as he closed his eyes, sighing while he rubbed them.

“Your fault.”

It whispered.

It wasn’t his fault, was it? He’d let the alpha into their pack, tried telling his men everything would be fine, despite his own doubts. Maybe they’d noticed the cracks in his usual confidence on decisions and slipped into them. Maybe he had failed them.

God knows he’d definitely failed you.

“Shut it,”

He muttered under his breath, hand coming to rest on his forehead, his arm braced against his desk.

They didn’t shut it. His omega refused to shut it, bullying its way to the forefront of his mind, sowing insecurities everywhere it could.

He could’ve done better. Done more to keep you comfortable, keep you satisfied and content, invited you to the nest, welcomed you to the pack. But he’d chosen to be bitter and think more about Soap’s absence than your presence, living in the past, and the version of the future he’d wanted.

He had failed you as an omega. He had been the leader of the pack; leading everyone else to reject you as well, influencing their decisions and feelings, even if indirectly.

Your condition was his fault.

Now his entire team had to bear the consequences of his actions.

He wasn’t cut out to be a leader.

Maybe he should just—

“John?”

His eyes jolted back open, back to his office as his omega reluctantly retreated with a hiss, leaving him reeling as he tried to pull himself together.

Laswell opened the door up, giving him a questioning look and holding files in her hand, her MacBook in the other.

“Ah, Laswell. What is it?”

He asked, rubbing his hand over his face, knowing there was probably a red mark on his forehead from the pressure his hand had had on it for so long. His arm was a bit red from being pressed against the desk for long.

He glanced to the clock.

Twenty minutes had passed.

“I knocked about 3 times,”

She said with a raised eyebrow, moving to sit on the chair in front of his desk. He sighed, trying to think of some excuse as he blinked away the welling of emotion in his eyes.

“Just…distracted, is all.”

She let out a hum, not seeming surprised. She set the folders down, sliding them across the desk to him.

“There’s the background info you asked for. Their files were hard to pull, but we got them.”

He gleaned over most of it, name, age, weight, gender, scores and health test results, until he got to the section of conditions.

Most of it was blacked out with what he could smell being a sharpie, probably recently considering how strong it was. Whoever had given these to Laswell hadn’t wanted them to know a few things, probably assuming Price would discharge them if he saw anything wrong.

History of Abuse — caution around domineering omegas*

Was written in a sloppy handwriting Price could hardly read. The history of abuse didn’t surprise Price, it probably wouldn’t with anyone else in the pack. But why send you to them, then? A pack of 4 very dominant omegas. It was a paradox in and of itself.

Shock Therapy? — ask Kames*

That was more of a surprise. Shock therapy was outdated, and he wasn’t sure whether it was implying that you’d gone through it in the past, or that it was a potential treatment plan. Who was Kames?

Scent gland — looks scarred, ask Kames about that too (no scent=good?)

He’d noticed it in the beginning. Your fucked up scent gland. Simon had a similar one, making his scent hardly even noticeable. Probably the reason why when you’d asked how he covered the gunpowder in his scent, he’d yanked you down, either offended or annoyed, trying to make you realize he didn’t have a scent.

Originally, Price had assumed it was the gunpowder or Simon’s faint omega scent that had set you off, but with a bit more information, he realized it might’ve been the motion of the action.

A forceful scenting.

And if you’d been a victim of abuse, then it could have been quite the reminder.

He let out a hefty sigh, glancing up at Laswell, knowing he’d have to tell his boys about this and that they wouldn’t be happy.

~

“They fuckin’ what?”

As expected, they weren’t happy. Ghost was sitting silently, brooding per usual. Soap was cursing everything to ever exist. And Gaz had this feral look in his eye. Of course they all hated the thought of an alpha being abused, but it was personal for Gaz, given he had Alpha sisters. He had an almost direct view into how messed up the system was. How cruel it was towards alpha’s.

“Give me a name an’ I’ll focken—“

“This is all we know right now. All we can do is focus on rehabilitating them.”

Gaz had remained silent, anger brewing in his gut into a nasty, bitter stew that would consume him if he continued letting his emotions add more ingredients to the pot.

He took a deep breath.

And he didn’t let it go, no, he would find the bastard that did this to you, but he would keep calm for now. Being angry wouldn’t make anything better.

“I’ll go get them some food.”

He said quietly, getting up from his chair, pushing it in, trying to relax his tense muscles as he walked to the canteen, passing fellow soldiers, giving the proper hello’s, nods, and salutes if he had to.

It seemed like a blur as he entered the large lunchroom, walking to the chef and asking for a bowl of soup, whatever they had on hand. He wasn’t exactly sure what you liked; but since you didn’t seem to be in a talking mood he’d figure it out through trial and error.

It was only his second day of doing this, but it was the thought that counted.

The chef passed him a bowl of what looked to be some sort of creamy tomato soup, and after sticking his finger in, he decided it was warm enough and nodded his thanks before walking to your room.

He knocked quietly first, not wanting to startle you, before opening the door up just barely enough for him to squeeze in.

Ever since Soap had spent a night cuddling with you, you’d at least moved from under the bed to the floor on top of a mattress and some blankets. Better than nothing, in his eyes.

Your eyes were on him as soon as he entered the room, he could tell despite his eyes not having adjusted to the darkness yet.

“I brought you food, thought you might be hungry.”

He tried speaking in a soothing tone, or at least one that hookups in the past had said was soothing. Kyle approached you cautiously like one might a wild animal, sitting on the outside of your ‘nest’ which you’d made to mimic an omega’s.

His heart ached.

Truly, he wanted to ditch any personal space and grab you, hold you and coo to you for hours, keep you from being distressed, but he knew that would throw away any progress he’d made.

Setting the tomato soup bowl on the edge of the mattress, he watched as you glanced at it, then didn’t seem interested, only sitting up the tiniest bit with your back against the now mattress-less frame of your bed.

“You need to eat, look, it’s good.”

He said, taking his own spoonful and eating a bit, trying not to cringe. Kyle had always hated tomato soup, even his own mother’s recipe hadn’t tasted like anything more than mushy baby food to him, but you had to eat. Being as tall and muscular as you were, if you didn’t get at least one meal a day could very well starve.

Your narrowed eyes pinned him down as he took another spoonful of the soup and offered it to you, holding the spoon to your mouth.

For a moment, Kyle thought you might slap it away or just throw the bowl at him. He wouldn’t protest if you did.

But instead, you opened your mouth, taking a bite of the soup. He saw the cringe in your eyes, as well, when you tasted it, but you swallowed despite it. He’d fall out of a helicopter ten times over just to see you eating after so much protest and refusal yesterday.

As he lifted the spoon again, and you took another bite, he got the feeling that you weren’t doing this because you wanted to, simply for the fact that every instinct in your body told you to keep your omega happy, even in spite of your own feelings.

And Gaz didn’t know if that was good or bad.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

[obito-in-disguise]

| You get hurt on a mission |

Featuring: Uzui Tengen, Shinazugawa Sanemi, Tomioka Giyuu, Iguro Obanai, Kyojuro Rengoku and Gyomei Himejima.

Uzui Tengen

He’d use humor to distract you from the pain and his lingering guilt. His confidence would mask his fear, but his sharp focus would take over as he swiftly defeats the threat and tends to you. He’d lighten the mood with teasing “That was so not flashy Y/N”

Afterward, Uzui would pamper you endlessly, trying to make up for the fact that you got hurt on his watch. He’d entertain you with dramatic stories and ensure you’re always laughing, though his eyes would betray his deep concern when he thinks you’re not looking.

Shinazugawa Sanemi

Sanemi would be furious, at the demon, the situation, and especially at you for putting yourself at risk. His worry manifests as yelling “What the hell were you thinking dipshit?!” But his hands are gentle as he carries you to safety.

As you recover, Sanemi would insist on doing everything for you. Carrying you, cleaning your wounds, and ensuring you rest. His tone might remain gruff, but his hands are uncharacteristically gentle. He might even stay awake all night to guard you.

When you open your mouth to tease him about his surprisingly caring nature, he immediately barks out "Just shut up yeah? you can't heal when you keep yabbering"

Tomioka Giyuu

You really thought you would get hurt on Giyuu's watch huh? think again. He's actually been secretly following you on your missions 😟

It's not that he doesn't trust you, he does, but he can't lose one more person. He knows you're strong. He doesn't follow you around on the smaller missions that he knows you can handle, but will absolutely be there at the mention of a Kizuki.

A Kizuki mission? Were they trying to end your life??

You have your suspicions though, how does he always magically show up when you need help the most? He simply shrugs playing it cool.

"...We must have similar schedules or something"

Iguro Obanai

Obanai would be eerily calm as he dispatches the threat. He channels his worry into efficiency, ensuring your safety first before addressing his emotions. Kaburamaru would coil around you as if to protect you, while Iguro mercilessly disposes of the threat.

As you heal, he’d be watchful, quietly ensuring your needs are met without smothering you. He might hesitate to show his softer side, but small gestures like bringing your favorite food or whispering comforting words, betray his deep care.

"Guro...I'm fine"

"No you're not Y/N! you could've gotten seriously hurt!...I could've lost you. Just call for me next time ok?"

Kyojuro Rengoku

He handles the situation with a scary seriousness you haven't seen from him before. Losing you is no joke to him, after the threat has been eliminated he returns to his usual upbeat self.

“Do not give up my flame! You will make it through this!” He’d carry you to safety with unwavering resolve, his warmth and positivity never faltering.

In recovery, he’d be by your side, cheerfully bringing you meals and checking on you constantly. Expect lots of affirmations about your strength and his love for you. “You are incredible, my love. Rest and heal, for the world needs your light!”

Gyomei Himejima

Gyomei would instantly sense the gravity of the situation. Tears quietly stream down his face as he uses the full force of his immense strength to protect you and ensure you’re safe. His voice would resonate with a gentle yet deeply concerned tone so as to keep you calm “Stay with me. You’re precious to this world.”

Gyomei would be the epitome of gentle care, using his healing knowledge to treat your injuries while praying for your swift recovery. He’d craft soothing remedies and share calming mantras to ease your pain. His presence would feel like a fortress of safety, unwavering and serene, as he supports you physically and emotionally.

Someone get Giyuu a therapist.

Feel free to check out my other Demon Slayer fics and more stories!

[maypiles]

Pick A Pile: What is your justice?⚖️

❗This is a collective reading so take what resonates and leave what does not. Please do not force the reading. Be careful of scammers I'll never reach out to you to ask for money or personal readings❗

Okay, listen up, darlings. After that vision of New York City and Lady Liberty gracing me like the queen I am, I just knew Spirit was screaming at me to dig into this. Justice, karma, the scales tipping—whatever you want to call it—it’s all connected, and I had to know what’s up with my collective. What’s your justice? What’s the tea on your karmic comeback or payback? Because let me tell you, when Lady Liberty herself makes a cameo in my dreams, it’s not just a vibe; it’s a cosmic declaration. Buckle up; the universe is about to spill.

Pile One

Pile one, this is a BIG moment, and I can’t even begin to stress it enough, okay? So first, let’s just dive into what Spirit wants you to know because there’s a whole lot going on, and I feel like the universe is throwing a whole deck of cards down on the table—your table. The message is loud and clear, baby.

First thing I’m hearing—there’s this vibe of someone talking behind your back. Ugh, I hate it. It's like there’s this sneaky energy, maybe some people trying to paint you in a certain light, and I'm hearing ‘final chapter.’ Yeah, you’re at the end of something—something major. You’ve been going through it, whether emotionally, financially, or just in general, and Spirit’s telling me you’re about to face your justice. But here’s the thing, babe—this is karma, okay? Whether it's real debt or energetic debt, whatever happened in the past, the universe is balancing the scales.

I’m seeing cards like the 5 of Pentacles reversed, Page of Pentacles, 4 of Cups, 5 of Swords reversed, and 5 of Cups. Like, I’m getting this feeling that maybe you’ve been struggling, feeling left out in the cold, or just like the universe is not on your side. But here’s the thing: the 5 of Pentacles reversed is showing me that things are changing for you. I’m hearing recovery, and it feels like you’ve been through hell, but baby, the tides are shifting. Spirit is telling me you're in the process of paying for some past mistakes, but there is a lesson here, and it’s going to help you rise.

Then there’s the King of Wands and Hanged Man—and I gotta say, it’s like, there’s this person in your life or this energy where you’ve been putting on this strong, ‘I’m untouchable’ vibe, but deep down you’re realizing something has to change. You’ve been in limbo—stuck in this weird cycle, indecisive, unsure of your next move. You’ve been trying to juggle everything—2 Pentacles—and it’s like, what was once in balance is now all over the place. It’s time for a shift.

Now, the World reversed and the 7 of Cups hit me hard because something is incomplete, and there's confusion surrounding it. It’s like you're getting a new perspective on everything, but there’s still this cloudiness, something hidden, or a situation that hasn’t fully unfolded yet. Don’t worry, you’re seeing it all soon. Trust me, things are coming to light. Spirit is saying, “Hold your ground,” with the 7 of Wands, because there’s a big payoff coming with the Ace of Pentacles and 10 of Pentacles—yes, I said it, big money and stability! You just have to keep pushing through this current energy, even if it feels like a struggle right now.

But let’s talk about that 10 of Swords, Moon reversed, and the 5 of Wands. This is heavy. There is some serious betrayal energy here, something that’s cut you deep, but it's also like, you’re breaking free from whatever chains have held you. The truth is coming out—especially with the Moon reversed. You’ve been through the battle, now it’s about overcoming the chaos and moving forward. The 10 of Cups reversed—yep, love life might be in the pits for some of you right now, and you’re feeling emotionally drained, but there’s healing ahead, okay?

So here’s what Spirit wants you to know, Pile one: You are facing your justice. The scales are balancing, and yes, there’s been some messy, dark energy from the past—but now? You are stepping into your new chapter. You are paying your debts, emotionally or otherwise. But trust me when I say, after the storm comes your victory. You’ve been through the struggle, but now you are about to reap the rewards of that hard work. The universe is testing your resilience, and, baby, you’re gonna come out stronger than ever.

So what is your justice?

Your justice? Oh, it’s sweet, isn’t it? Karmic cleansing, honey. All that betrayal and shady business? Watch it unravel like a cheap sweater. You’re cutting ties, reclaiming your voice, and stepping into your power. They thought they could keep you in the dark, but surprise! You're the High Priestess, babe—illusions shattered, truths exposed. Their little games backfired, and you? You’re thriving. Justice? Served. Cold, delicious, and with a side of don’t mess with me.

Pile Two

All right, okay, my loves Pile 2, let’s get into this, because I am picking up on a lot, and I need you to listen closely. This feels like a moment for you—like the universe is standing right in front of you, waiting for you to make some decisions. And baby, let me tell you, these are big ones. I feel like you’re in a position where you’re about to turn the page—the past is behind you, and you’re stepping into something new. But let me break it down for you.

So first thing I’m feeling, my foot starts itching—I don’t know why that’s happening, but Spirit is giving me the strong vibe that you’re either about to travel or visit someone. More likely, it’s a visit, and I’m getting that this is connected to family or someone who’s just returned from a visit. Whatever it is, it’s coming soon. It could even be a recent visit, like you’re still processing it. There’s something here, and it feels important.

Now let’s talk about what I’m seeing in my mind’s eye. I see a crow—I know it’s a crow, but also it’s black and dark like it has this shadowy presence. It’s standing on the bank of a river or water—maybe even in a park. There’s sunlight, and I’m seeing this bird looking around. Spirit’s telling me that there’s a symbolic energy here—crows are messengers. You’re receiving a message, Pile 2, and this is a time of transition, of choosing your path, like the bird flying away to where it’s meant to be. It feels like a time for you to decide—are you staying where you are, or are you flying away?

And then, I hear the word ‘rosemary’, and it’s so significant right now. It could be something as simple as you needing to protect your energy, cleanse your space, or work with rosemary in some way—whether it’s spiritual or practical. Rosemary is a protector, a cleanser, and it feels like you are being called to do this now. There’s some protection needed here, especially if you’re feeling drained or unsure about things.

But let’s talk about the shift, because there is a huge shift happening. With the 2 of Wands reversed and the Devil, I’m getting that you’re in a place where you’ve been stuck, possibly bound to something toxic—something holding you back. And I feel like you’re at a breaking point. You’ve been grappling with this decision, right? Whether it’s leaving something behind or moving forward, the universe is saying—you are finally choosing your happiness. You’re turning away from the past and stepping into something new. And yes, panic attacks could be a thing here, like anxiety around this change. But trust me, babe, Spirit’s saying, this is your time.

So, when I see the 6 of Pentacles, 7 of Pentacles, and the Page of Swords reversed, I’m getting that you’ve been working hard, trying to balance things out. But right now, there’s something off—you might be feeling drained, like you’re giving too much and not receiving enough. It’s like you’ve been planting seeds, but you’re not seeing the rewards yet. Spirit’s saying, you’re about to see your harvest, but you need to clear the air first.

I’m also seeing the Queen of Pentacles, 4 of Cups, and the Sun, and here’s the thing: you’ve been in this emotional space where maybe you’ve been unfulfilled. Like, you’ve had everything you need, but something’s still missing. You’ve been looking at things and saying, “Is this it?” Spirit is telling me: you are about to get your answer. You’re about to step into the light. The Sun is coming for you—this is happiness, healing, and clarity.

But there’s also the 4 of Swords reversed, Fool reversed, and 7 of Wands reversed, and listen, I feel the resistance. There’s some fear here, some hesitation to take that first step forward. You’ve been in your head, feeling unsure, but let me tell you: it’s time to act. The 7 of Wands reversed is telling me that maybe you’ve been defensive, maybe you’ve been holding back, but it’s time to stop fighting yourself and just go. There’s so much fear around the unknown right now, but you’re being called to release it.

Now, I’m seeing the 3 of Cups, 3 of Swords, and 2 of Cups reversed, and there’s a lot of emotional healing here. I feel like you’ve been hurt in the past, possibly by a relationship or a close friendship, and it’s been hard to let go. Spirit’s saying, you’re healing from that. You’re moving on, even if it feels painful right now. Your heart is healing, babe, and you’re opening yourself up to something new.

And then the King of Pentacles, 3 of Pentacles, and Moon reversed show me that there’s stability coming. You’re about to start building something solid, something real. There’s clarity on the way, and it’s like the Moon reversed is all about revealing hidden truths. Whatever was hidden, whether it was in your relationships, your work, or within yourself, it’s about to come to light.

So, I’m hearing it loud and clear now, Pile two: you are in the middle of a major shift. You’re deciding to turn your back on the past and choose your happiness. There are fears, there’s resistance, and there’s pain—but Spirit is saying, the clarity is coming, the healing is coming, and you are stepping into your power. You’re being guided to protect your energy—use rosemary, cleanse, reset. Trust that the universe has your back, and soon, you’ll be standing on solid ground, feeling like yourself again.

So what is your justice?

Ah, your justice is glow-up revenge. You’re untouchable, darling, and they’re left watching from the sidelines as you rise. Their attempts to block you? Laughable. The wheel is spinning in your favor, and the universe is handing you blessings while their lives turn into a slow-motion disaster. You’re stepping into abundance and alignment, and let’s be honest, it’s about time. They’ll choke on their envy, but don’t worry—you’re too busy being fabulous to care.

Pile Three

All right, my gorgeous Pile 3, let’s get into it. I’m feeling this is a deep reading, like we’re diving into some serious energy here. First off, I’m picking up something huge. You might be connected to the New York dream I channeled in a previous post—whether you’re from New York, visited, or that place has some significance for you. I’m also hearing dreams, and I feel like some of you are having prophetic dreams or visions that are part of your spiritual journey. Spirit is coming through strong right now, so pay attention.

You’re in a phase right now where the Wheel of Fortune is spinning for you. Fate is at play, and I feel like everything that’s been happening is part of a bigger plan—this is your spiritual path, Pile 3. It’s like the universe is pushing you forward, and there’s a reason for every challenge you’re going through. There’s something bigger unfolding here, and your journey is truly aligning with your higher self.

Now, Spirit keeps telling me choices in love, so let’s dive into that for a minute. I don’t know who you’re dealing with right now, but you’ve got choices—multiple options, different energies around you. But let’s get into the cleansing bit. It feels like you’re releasing a lot. There's a need to clear out some heavy stuff that’s been weighing you down, especially emotionally and mentally. I’m talking about the 10 of Wands reversed, where the burdens are finally being lifted, but you’ve been carrying them for a long time. You're letting go of things, people, situations, and ideas that no longer serve your highest good. It’s like Spirit is telling you to finally breathe again. Let the weight off.

But I see Ace of Swords reversed, Knight of Pentacles reversed, Knight of Cups reversed, and Queen of Pentacles challenge, and there’s this sense of miscommunication, lack of clarity, and maybe even feeling stuck in a place where you’ve been waiting for answers that aren’t coming. Like, it feels like you've been trying to move forward, but you're hitting roadblocks, especially in your career, relationships, and your sense of security. It's been difficult, but Spirit is saying—you're breaking free from this soon. It’s part of the cleansing process. The delays are just preparing you for the next chapter.

Then I’m seeing Justice here, and yes, this is it. The justice you’re seeking is coming through, especially with the 7 of Swords and 5 of Wands. If there’s been any deception or betrayal, or if you’ve been involved in conflict—whether with people, or even just within yourself—Spirit is saying you will be vindicated. You will receive what’s yours. The energy is shifting, and the balance is about to be restored. It’s coming through in your choices in love and in life—whatever this injustice was, it’s clearing up now.

The 7 of Pentacles and 3 of Pentacles indicate that you’ve been waiting for rewards, for your effort to pay off, and Spirit is saying that it’s on its way. You've planted the seeds, and now you're just waiting for things to fall into place. You’ve been patient, working on yourself, on your dreams, on your future. It’s all going to pay off. But with the 2 of Wands challenge and the Knight of Wands reversed, Spirit says there's still this hesitation, this fear of moving forward. But you need to let go of the fear. It’s holding you back.

But I see the Chariot reversed and the 10 of Cups challenge, and it’s clear: you’ve been struggling with your direction—like you’re not fully sure where you're headed, and it’s affecting your emotional state. There’s been an emotional imbalance here, and it’s holding up the momentum you need to push forward. You’re questioning if happiness is even possible right now. There’s been sadness, regret (5 of Cups), but Spirit is coming through to tell you don’t stay stuck in the past. Things will change once you step out of this emotional rut.

And I can feel the Moon reversed—this is clarity. There’s stuff that’s been hidden in the dark, and it’s about to come to light. If there’s been confusion, if you’ve felt like you can’t see the truth, that’s changing. Truth is coming through, and it’ll be like a weight lifted off your shoulders.

Now let’s talk about the Devil energy. I feel like you’ve been breaking free from toxic cycles—whether it’s toxic relationships, bad habits, or something that’s just drained your energy. You're cleansing this out. This is part of your transformation, and with the 4 of Swords reversed, Spirit is saying you need to rest but also push through this final phase of your healing. It’s time to let go, to forgive, to release.

With the 6 of Wands, Page of Wands, and 8 of Pentacles, Spirit is showing me that there’s victory coming your way. Success is ahead, and it feels like you’re going to stand tall soon—your efforts will be recognized, especially in your work and personal growth. There’s excitement, enthusiasm, and the energy of new beginnings ahead. You're going to feel like you're winning again. You're moving forward with renewed purpose.

And the Wheel of Fortune? Oh, yes. This is fated. This is your turning point. Things are finally aligning, and the High Priestess challenge is saying that the mysteries you’ve been dealing with will soon be revealed. Secrets will come out, intuition will be clearer, and your path will be illuminated.

The Tower and Fool reversed—yes, I feel this chaos energy. Something might shake up your world soon, but it’s necessary for your growth. It’s going to feel like a sudden change, but trust it. This is the universe breaking down what no longer serves you, so you can step into something better. Don't resist the shift.

Finally, with the 3 of Cups, Queen of Wands, 7 of Cups, and Ace of Pentacles, there’s celebration and new beginnings on the horizon. You're going to be feeling more confident, more sure of yourself, and ready to embrace your future. And yes, there’s a new opportunity waiting for you that’s going to make all of this worth it.

So what is your justice?

Oh, pile 3 my loves, your justice is that they can’t escape their mess. You’re out here cleansing your energy, minding your business, and meanwhile, they’re drowning in their own chaos. It’s giving what goes around comes around, but with a spiritual twist. Their lies? Exposed. Their manipulations? Ineffective. And you? You’re aligning with destiny, walking your path, and attracting love and opportunities that actually deserve you. Justice is fated, baby, and you’re divinely protected.

Pile Four

Hello, Pile 4 my darlings, let's get into it. Spirit is definitely making a strong presence here with some serious energy. First off, there's something about connection—whether it’s a need for deeper connections with others or feeling that you're disconnected from someone or something. This could be with a person, a situation, or even within yourself. Spirit is saying that the connection you’re seeking is right in front of you, but there’s an energy of impatience building. Like, you're waiting for something to align, but it feels like it’s taking forever, and you're growing restless. You're over it—there’s an irritation, a feeling like you're being disturbed from what you really want, whether externally or internally.

I’m hearing external annoyance and disturbance. Spirit is showing me that you’re dealing with distractions or people who are just in your face right now, causing chaos or disruption in your life. It's as if things keep getting in the way of your peace and your flow. There’s a destructive energy around, something or someone that’s throwing you off your path, and it’s draining your energy. You might be feeling tired from dealing with this. There’s a lot of frustration here.

Looking at your cards, 6 of Wands tells me there’s victory here. You’re fighting for something, and despite the disturbances, you're still winning. But the 7 of Cups and 9 of Cups tell me you're confused about your happiness. There are choices, possibilities in front of you, but you’re unsure if you’re going in the right direction. Maybe you’ve been indulging in too many distractions or seeking external validation for your success. Spirit is saying there’s more to it—your happiness isn’t about the external, it’s about what you believe it is. That’s what’s going to bring you true fulfillment.

Now, with the 7 of Wands reversed, you're definitely dealing with a feeling of giving up or surrendering. It’s like you're trying to hold your ground, but the energy is just too much. You're losing your defense, and it's wearing you down. You’re being asked to reevaluate what’s truly worth fighting for because there’s a sense of feeling outnumbered or unable to maintain your position.

The Hanged Man is showing up, and this tells me you’ve reached a place of pause, like you're stuck. You’re at a standstill, and things feel stagnant, but Spirit is showing me this as a necessary delay. It's forcing you to see things from a different perspective. You’ve been resisting this moment of stillness, but it’s actually giving you the clarity you need. The 2 of Wands reversed reinforces this sense of indecision, like you’re not sure where to go next. You’ve been thinking about your future, but there’s a hesitation—like, you don’t have the clarity you need, and it’s causing you to feel disconnected from your own plan.

The Moon here, well, this tells me there’s confusion, uncertainty, and things being hidden from you—whether it’s your own emotions, the truth of a situation, or something that you're just not seeing clearly yet. This is the classic illusion card, and Spirit is saying that things might not be what they seem right now, so don’t jump to conclusions. Things are murky, but the truth will eventually come to light.

Then we have the 6 of Pentacles, and Spirit is showing me balancing—there’s a need for balance in how much you’re giving and receiving. Are you overextending yourself for others? Are you being fairly compensated or recognized? This is a time to equalize what you’re putting out versus what you're getting back. There’s a 5 of Cups reversed here, which shows that you're healing from emotional wounds. You’re moving past regret, past disappointment, and finally starting to release the past. Spirit is showing me that you’re ready to move on—you've been grieving, but it’s time to let it go.

Now, the 9 of Swords reversed shows that the worst of the anxiety and stress is behind you, but you're still holding onto some things. You're overthinking and worrying about things that you can’t control, and it’s preventing you from truly healing and stepping into your empowerment. There's definitely a need to confront these fears and stop letting them dictate your actions.

The 4 of Wands shows me that you’re seeking stability, but there’s a lack of celebration or fulfillment around this area. Maybe you’ve been wanting a certain outcome or a stable situation, but there’s a sense of something falling short here. Spirit is saying that your happiness isn’t defined by what you think it should look like—there's a need to let go of expectations and embrace the flow of your journey.

Looking at the King of Pentacles reversed and 4 of Cups reversed, there's definitely a feeling of instability—whether it's in your finances, security, or sense of self-worth. You're dissatisfied, unfulfilled, and Spirit is pointing out that it’s time to let go of attachments to material things or false security. You need to make room for something more fulfilling, something deeper.

But here’s the good part—the 9 of Pentacles shows you’re independent and capable of standing on your own. Spirit is saying you’re strong and have everything you need within you to overcome this. There’s an energy of self-sufficiency here, and Spirit is reminding you that you have the power to create your own stability.

The 8 of Swords reversed tells me that you're breaking free from mental restrictions. There’s a release from feeling trapped or stuck, and you’re starting to see things for what they truly are. The Page of Swords and Page of Pentacles reversed indicate that you're still learning, still growing, but you're starting to develop a clearer mindset. There’s a need for patience, but Spirit is showing that you’re getting more clarity and awareness.

Then we have the Knight of Pentacles and 9 of Wands. This is your persistence paying off. It’s slow-moving, but you’re finally getting back on track after everything has felt chaotic. You're pushing through, and even though you’ve been battered by the challenges, you’re still standing strong.

But, there’s the King of Wands challenge position, which is interesting. It feels like you're struggling with taking control, with leading your life in the direction you want. There's a lack of confidence in your ability to make the big decisions, and Spirit is telling me that you need to step up and claim your power. You're more than capable, but you’ve got to believe that you are.

The Tower here is a big one—expect sudden change. This is a moment of destruction, but it's necessary. Things will be torn down to rebuild stronger foundations. Trust this process—it’s breaking down the old to make way for the new. You’re shedding layers, and it’s all part of your transformation.

With the King of Cups reversed, you're being reminded to manage your emotions better. Don’t let your emotions control you; take the reins and process what's coming up. There’s emotional instability, but you’re being asked to balance that out. You can’t let your emotions dictate your decisions if you want peace and clarity.

Lastly, the 3 of Cups shows me that there’s a need for community, celebration, and joy. You’re going to find people who are there to support you, but Spirit is saying you need to open up and allow yourself to receive support. The 2 of Pentacles reversed tells me you’re dropping the juggling act, and it’s time to focus on what really matters.

At the bottom of the deck, we have the Chariot, so the message is clear: you're headed in the right direction, but you've got to take control of your path. And with the 3 of Pentacles, you’ll see that collaboration and working with others will help bring you closer to your goals.

So what is your justice?

Your justice is undeniable freedom, my loves. You’re breaking chains, shedding illusions, and stepping into your truth. The disturbances? The annoyances? They’re distractions, and you’re rising above it all. The tower may have fallen, but now you’re rebuilding on a foundation of strength and clarity. And them? They’re stuck in their own games, while you’re winning the war. You’re moving forward, claiming victories, and leaving them in the dust. Justice? Oh, it’s poetic, isn’t it?

All right, mon amours, that’s the tea for today. Justice has been served, karmic debts are being paid, and the scales are tipping exactly where they need to. If you’re in the clear, congratulations—you’re the main character, obviously. And if not? Well... consider this your villain origin story. Either way, the universe is working its magic, so take it, own it, and don’t forget who’s running the show—you. Now, go forth, be fabulous, and remember: karma always collects, but a good outfit and a sharp wit will keep you winning every time. À bientôt!

P.S: credits belong to the original owner of the pictures and dividers.

[steddieas-shegoes]

not to me

for @steddielovemonth inspired by the quote “I’ll take care of you” “it’s rotten work” “not to me. Not if it’s you”

rated t | 947 words | cw: injury recovery | tags: pre-relationship, post-Vecna, friends to lovers, getting together, first kiss, disabled Eddie Munson

👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️👨🏻‍🦽‍➡️

“Fuck!” Eddie yells as he throws his hands up in frustration.

He’s been trying to stand on his own for days now, and the furthest he’s gotten is pulling himself most of the way up. His legs shake. He falls back down.

Repeat again until he finally isn’t even strong enough to get himself upright.

Wayne’s always home, but he doesn’t watch. At least he doesn’t let Eddie know if he is. But he’s home in case Eddie ends up hurting himself or falling onto something other than his bed or the couch.

Steve’s come by a few times, offering to be a steady body to hold onto. He doesn’t accept the offer. Usually, he jokes that Wayne’s the only man he’s ever trusted and distracts him with something else.

“Alright, Ed?” Wayne calls to him from the kitchen.

“Fine!” Eddie calls back because he doesn’t want Wayne to come into his room and see him splayed out in his bed while his walker is still unused by his bed. He glares at the wheelchair in the corner of the room.

The doctors said he’d be in it for a long time, maybe months, but he’s determined to prove them wrong. They also said he wouldn’t play guitar again, but he was already able to play most of the chords.

He hears a car pull up outside and he just knows it’s Steve. Of course he would come over now.

The car door opens and closes.

The front door opens and closes.

Wayne greets him like he’s an old pal and he kind of is. It’s a little weird how close they’ve become since Eddie woke up, but whatever.

There’s a knock on his bedroom door before it opens.

Closes.

Steve looks nice. Not dressed up, necessarily, but he’s wearing his good jeans and a new polo. His hair is done a little less carefree, more like he actually went through the phases of blow drying it, putting product in it, and then showing up here to drive Eddie and his unrequited crush crazy.

He smells nice, too.

“Is that a new cologne?”

“It’s not new, I just only wear it for dates.”

Eddie’s heart sinks. It shouldn’t.

Not only is Eddie a man, but he’s also weird. And, at this current time, he’s pretty much bedbound or being pushed around in a wheelchair.

Steve’s a good guy, but he isn’t gonna waste the good cologne on visiting Eddie.

“Oh. Where you taking her? Movies? Dinner?” Eddie sits up so he doesn’t have to look up at Steve. His mind starts to wander to other reasons Steve might be above him, but luckily, Steve answers before he gets carried away.

“I’m taking you to my place,” Steve replies simply.

“I thought you were going on a date?”

“I am. I’m taking you to my house.”

“No offense, but I’d rather not sit alone at your house while you’re on a date,” Eddie snorts. “Is this because Wayne’s leaving in the morning for a weekend trip? I swear I’ll be fine on my own. Dustin’s coming by tomorrow anyway.”

“Eddie.” Steve takes both of his hands. “I’m taking you to my house for a date. You and me. On a date. I’m making dinner for us and I thought you could help me make a character sheet.”

Eddie must’ve fallen and hit his head. He must’ve blacked out. Wayne will be so pissed that his independence has landed him in the hospital again.

“You’re saying words to me. I hear them.”

Steve groans. He lets go of Eddie’s hands and cups his face instead.

“Wayne said this would be difficult.” He rubs his thumb against Eddie’s cheek, smirking. “You’re awake. You’re alive. I’m really here in front of you. I’m asking you to come to my house so I can charm you and maybe kiss you at the end of our date. And then you can stay at mine, but there’s no expectations. I have the guest room made up for you.”

“This is crazy. You realize this is crazy?” Eddie squeaks. “You’re not even gay!”

“I’m a little gay,” Steve laughs. “And I really like you.”

“But-“ Eddie turns to his wheelchair. He’s definitely gonna need it to get outside and then back inside Steve’s house. And then he’ll probably need help getting upstairs to the guest room, or Steve’s room if he’s lucky. “You’ll have to help me. For a long time maybe. The doctors might have been right on this. I can’t even stand, let alone walk. And I’m miserable about it. What you walked in on was my 28th attempt at getting up to use my walker today and I’m no closer than I was on day one, attempt one. It’ll be a lot of fucking work, taking care of me.”

“Not to me. Not if it’s you.”

Eddie’s speechless for quite possibly the first time in his life.

“Can I kiss you?”

Eddie nods once. Steve beams at him, like he’s given him the best gift he’s ever received.

He gets lightheaded almost immediately. Steve’s lips are gentle against his, full of so much tenderness and love. It’s almost more than he can handle.

Eddie chases his lips as Steve pulls away.

“Don’t stop,” Eddie whines.

“I’m gonna take you home. We’re gonna have a date. And then we’re gonna kiss again. Let me treat you right, though,” Steve says and winks.

“You stop that. I can’t handle your winking.”

Steve laughs, kisses him again. He leans back and claps his hands together.

“Alright, let’s get you in the chair so we can get home. Dinner’s gonna take about an hour to make.”

[semisasseater]

I TOLD YOU LIKE A MILLON TIMES ─ se-mi

⤷ With you everything will be alright

| pairing : gf!se-mi x fem!reader | genre : angst if u squint, comfort, romance, fluff | warnings : mentions of past abuse (emotional & physical), trauma recovery, soft intimacy, themes of healing | summary : after escaping an abusive relationship, y/n struggles to accept love and care. Se-mi, her new girlfriend, is endlessly patient and gentle— y/n finally learns what love is supposed to feel like. | wc : 612 | authors note : before some of you horny hoes are like “why didn’t you add the smut🤓” well you horny whores it’s because i also got a smut request that honestly can be a part 2 of this cause i wanna edge yall! and because im running out of fic ideas. idk im very sorry ive been a sad bitch. not proofread

if you enjoyed likes or reblogs would be amazing! feedback is appreciated also requests are open!!

You never thought you’d feel safe in someone’s arms again.

After what your last relationship put you through—the bruises, the fear, the exhaustion of doing everything alone—you didn’t think love could be gentle. That it could be kind. That it could be anything other than survival.

Then Se-mi came along.

She was never loud in the way she loved you. She didn’t demand things from you, didn’t make you feel like you owed her something just for existing. Her love showed itself in soft gestures, in quiet moments, in ways that made you realize just how much you had gone without.

Like tonight.

You sat on the edge of the bed, fresh from the shower, the scent of your shampoo still lingering in the air. A towel draped over your shoulders as you absentmindedly ran your fingers through your damp hair, feeling the knots you didn’t have the energy to deal with.

Before you could sigh in frustration, Se-mi was there.

“Let me,” she murmured, taking the brush from your nightstand. She climbed onto the bed behind you, her legs bracketing yours as she gently gathered your hair. The first stroke was careful, deliberate. No tugging, no impatience—just the slow, rhythmic motion of the bristles smoothing through your hair.

You closed your eyes, leaning into the sensation. No one had ever done this for you before.

“You okay?” she asked, her voice quiet.

You nodded. “Yeah… just not used to this.”

Se-mi hummed in understanding, continuing her slow work. “You should be,” she said simply. “You deserve this.”

Your chest ached at her words, at how easily she said them. Like it wasn’t even a question.

After finishing, she set the brush aside and kissed the back of your shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

You let her help you into your clothes—something that once would have made you feel weak but now only made you feel cherished. She smoothed your shirt down over your skin, adjusting the hem before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

When you were with your ex, you had to be strong because no one else would be. But with Se-mi, you could just… be.

She held your hand when you went out together, never pulling, never leading—just grounding you. She paid for things without hesitation, not to control you, but because she wanted to. And when you were at a party and your chest started to tighten from the noise, she didn’t ask questions.

“Do you wanna leave?” she always whispered, her fingers warm against yours.

And no matter what, no matter where you were, if you nodded, she would take your hand and walk you out the door like it was the easiest decision in the world.

Because with Se-mi, it always was.

Love wasn’t supposed to be something you survived. It was supposed to be something that held you, that made you feel safe.

And for the first time in your life, you truly believed that.

Because Se-mi loved you in all the ways you had been denied.

And she always would.

@semisasseater

[amethystarachnid]

Can you write for me Amnesia trope from Marvel Bingo with Tony/Fem reader? Tony is a little injured after a mission and he loses his memory, when reader is going to see him (wife or girlfriend) he won't recognize her but he'll immediately fall for her all over again 🥺 she thinks it's absolutely cute that he didn't recognize her but soon he'll recover his memory and blush so hard when reader shows him his videos of him all smitten by her hahahaha ❤️ and Tony saying he'll alwyas fall for her 🥺 (some spicy kisse maybe?)

ALWAYS

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL bingo

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.4k

ᯓ★ Summary: Because of an injury Tony temporarily loses his memories of you, his wife, and you're determined to make him gain them back. Do you really need to do so when he has already fallen back in love with you?

ᯓ★ TW(s): memory loss and clingy Tony

ᯓ★ Comment if you want to be added to the taglist (specify if you want the everything taglist or for a specific character)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The beeping. It’s the first thing you notice when you step into the hospital room—the insistent, steady beep of the heart monitor that Tony’s hooked up to. It’s steady, strong, and for that, you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. The smell of antiseptic stings your nose, reminding you that, despite Tony's resilience, he's as vulnerable as any of them in situations like these.

The mission had gone wrong in ways you didn’t see coming. Stark Industries had developed tech that a rival group decided they wanted to “borrow”—forcefully. What was supposed to be a simple extraction turned into a messy firefight. But, like always, Tony had pushed you to evacuate, promising he’d be right behind you. Instead, an explosion threw him from his suit, leaving him vulnerable to the final assault. He had barely gotten out before going down hard.

Now, you’re here, nerves raw and trembling as you hover by the doorway, watching him.

Tony is sitting up, but he seems…distant. Disoriented, maybe. His eyes are half-lidded, his lips pressed into a thin line as if he’s trying to make sense of something in the middle distance. It’s unnerving because you’re used to a Tony whose attention burns, even when he’s exhausted, half-buried in his lab, or just waking up. He sees everything.

But not this time. And for some reason, he doesn’t see you.

“Mrs. Stark?”

You turn as the doctor enters, offering you a sympathetic look. It’s a look that’s meant to ease you into news you know you don’t want to hear.

“Is he…awake?”

The doctor nods, gesturing you toward the chair by Tony’s bed. “He’s stable. His vitals are strong. The issue, Mrs. Stark, is that there appears to be some level of memory loss.”

The words clang in your ears, foreign and cold, completely out of place in the world you’ve built with Tony. “What do you mean by ‘memory loss’?”

She sighs, glancing at Tony before she speaks. “Memory loss is complicated. From what I’ve gathered, Mr. Stark has retained his long-term memories and most of his professional knowledge. But, due to the trauma and subsequent disorientation, there’s a block on more recent events…particularly in his personal life.”

Your stomach drops, and you take a deep breath, fighting to keep your voice steady. “He doesn’t remember me, does he?”

“I’m afraid not,” she says softly. “In many cases, memories return with time and familiar cues. Given Mr. Stark’s particular cognitive resilience, I have high hopes for recovery. But until then, he may…struggle with recognition and personal connections.”

You nod slowly, trying to take it all in. In all the battles, the missions, the threats, this is somehow scarier. Because it’s not just his body that’s wounded; it’s your life together that’s fractured.

When the doctor leaves, you take a step forward, but your feet feel leaden, hesitant. And for once, you don’t know what to say. This isn��t just Tony after a rough mission. This is your husband, and he doesn’t know you.

Finally, you muster the courage and approach the bed, offering him a soft, tentative smile. “Hey there, stranger.”

He looks up, his gaze sharp but confused, and something in his eyes flickers with a shade of recognition—a spark that leaves you hoping. But then he blinks, and it’s gone.

“Do I, uh, know you?” His tone is polite, curious, but there’s a guardedness to it, as if he’s unsure if he’s supposed to recognize you. You don’t miss the way his eyes dart over you, taking you in, and a pang of sadness tugs at your heart as you realize he’s assessing you the way he might a stranger.

You laugh softly, forcing down the lump in your throat. “You could say that. I’m…” You hesitate, wondering if it’s too much to say it outright, but the words slip out before you can stop them. “I’m your wife.”

His eyebrows shoot up, and he stares at you, stunned. “My wife?”

“Yes.” You smile, more gently this time, as though that will ease him into the idea. “For almost three years now.”

Tony blinks, and you can see his mind racing, struggling to process this unexpected piece of information. He gives a weak chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Damn. I…you’re telling me I’m married to you?”

His shock is genuine, and for a moment, a bubble of laughter escapes you. It’s that classic Tony Stark reaction—equal parts disbelief and awe, as if he can’t quite believe his good luck.

“Yes,” you say again, and this time, there’s a hint of amusement in your voice. “You managed to convince me somehow.”

He raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a lopsided grin that’s both endearing and achingly familiar. “Wow. I must be one hell of a salesman.”

“Oh, you are.” The laughter fades from your voice as you take a step closer, unable to resist the need to be nearer to him, even if he doesn’t remember you right now. “You’re the best.”

For a moment, he studies you, his gaze flickering with something like curiosity, maybe even admiration. It’s a glimmer of the old Tony, the man who made you feel like the only person in the room, no matter the crowd or chaos. But here, with him looking at you as a stranger might, there’s something raw and beautiful about it, too. He’s falling in love with you all over again, right in front of your eyes.

“Well, I guess I should feel lucky,” he murmurs, a faint smile playing on his lips. “If you’re half as amazing as you look, then…yeah. Lucky guy.”

The words make your heart flutter, and despite everything, you feel a warmth spread through you, easing the tightness in your chest. He’s still Tony, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

“Want to know a little about us?” you ask, hoping that maybe, somehow, it will trigger something—some hidden memory or spark of recognition.

He nods, settling back against the pillow. “Please. Enlighten me. I’m curious how a guy like me managed to marry someone like you.”

“Well,” you start, a smile tugging at your lips as you pull up a chair beside him. “For starters, we didn’t exactly get along at first.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Did I say something to offend you?”

“You…may have.” You grin, remembering the banter, the stubborn disagreements, the sparks that seemed to ignite every time you were in a room together. “You were cocky, stubborn, a little arrogant.”

He chuckles. “That sounds about right.”

“But somehow,” you continue, your voice softening, “you managed to break down all my walls. You made me feel like I was the only person who mattered, even if you acted like you were just being yourself.”

His gaze lingers on you, and there’s a warmth there, something cautious but undeniably present. “I’m sorry I don’t remember that.”

“Don’t be.” You place a gentle hand over his, feeling the faint warmth of his skin against yours. It’s a familiar gesture, one you’ve done a thousand times before, but this time, it feels different—new, almost shy. “You’ll remember. And until you do, we’ll make new memories. Starting right now.”

He looks down at your hand on his, and you can see the faintest flush of color in his cheeks. For a man who’s usually so sure of himself, so confident in every move he makes, it’s endearing to see him look almost…nervous.

“So, tell me more about this…our life,” he says, his voice soft, like he’s trying to hold onto the pieces he has left.

“Well,” you say, smiling as you think of the little things that make up your life together. “We spend a lot of time in the lab together, actually. Even if you’re always tinkering, working on some new project, you always have time for me.”

“Do I? Sounds like a good husband.” There’s a touch of pride in his voice, and it makes your heart ache a little—because he doesn’t even know the half of it yet.

“A very good husband,” you murmur, meeting his gaze with all the love you feel for him. “The best.”

And there it is—that flicker in his eyes, like he’s starting to see it, to feel it. It’s as if, for just a moment, he knows you, feels that connection.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, his voice rough. “For being here. For…all of this.”

You squeeze his hand gently, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over. “You’re my husband, Tony. I’d do anything for you.”

And as you sit there, hands entwined, you realize that even if he has to fall in love with you all over again, you’ll be right here, waiting.

The drive back from the hospital is quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Tony stares out the window, taking in the blur of city lights as you weave through the streets toward your shared home. Occasionally, you catch him glancing at you, his expression somewhere between awe and disbelief, as if he’s still wrapping his head around the idea that you’re his wife, that he’s returning to a life he doesn’t remember but that he somehow…wants.

When you finally pull into the long driveway leading up to your home, his eyebrows shoot up. Stark Tower looms ahead, its sleek, modern design stark against the night sky. The iconic "STARK" sign gleams with familiar grandeur. He lets out a low whistle, clearly impressed, but there’s a flicker of something else in his eyes, too—something like pride.

“So, this is…our place?” he asks, a note of disbelief in his voice.

You can’t help but laugh. “Yeah. Well, your place, technically. But I’ve definitely made it my own.”

Tony chuckles, the sound low and warm, and you’re reminded of all the times he’s teased you about “taking over” his tower with touches of your personality: the cozy reading nook in his office, the garden on the roof you insisted on installing, even the art pieces scattered throughout the building. And despite his teasing, he’d always seemed proud of how much of yourself you’d poured into his space.

“Well,” he says, stepping out of the car, “if you’re half as great at interior design as you are at, uh, marrying billionaires, I think I’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

“Oh, just you wait,” you say with a playful smirk as you lead him inside.

The entryway is a testament to the sleek, modern style Tony’s known for—polished floors, clean lines, an air of sophistication mixed with warmth. But there are little touches here and there that mark it as your home too: framed photos from the missions you’ve tackled together, a throw blanket draped over the couch, even a small shelf of books beside the entrance to the main living area.

Tony follows you, his gaze flitting over each detail with that trademark Stark intensity, taking it all in as if he’s studying a new project. When his eyes land on a photo of the two of you at a beach, he pauses. You remember that day so vividly: you were laughing, caught in a candid moment as he held you close, your hair whipped by the wind.

“Is that…us?” he asks, a softness in his voice that tugs at your heart.

“Yeah,” you say, stepping closer to him. “A couple of years ago. We were on a vacation you forced me to take.”

“I forced you?” he repeats, quirking an eyebrow. “Was I…was I that difficult?”

“Only a little,” you tease, nudging him gently. “You hated the idea of not working for a few days. But we made the best of it.”

His lips curve into a small smile as he stares at the photo a moment longer before turning his gaze back to you. “I look…happy. Really happy.”

“You were,” you say softly. “We both were.”

He swallows, his gaze lingering on you, and for a moment, you can almost feel the weight of all the memories he’s lost. But there’s a warmth in his eyes, a flicker of something that feels like a connection—even if it’s new to him.

You clear your throat and gesture toward the hallway. “Come on. I’ll show you the rest.”

You lead him down the hall, pointing out the various rooms, each one filled with a mix of his tech and your touches: the library with shelves overflowing with both your favorite books, the small lounge you use for watching movies together, and finally, your bedroom.

When you open the door, he stands in the doorway, taking it in. The room is a blend of Tony’s sophisticated taste and your own comfortable style, the soft lighting casting a warm glow over the neatly made bed, the nightstand stacked with a few of Tony’s reading materials, and the little tray of lotions and skincare items you keep on your side.

“This…feels nice,” he murmurs, his gaze sweeping over the room. He takes a step inside, running a hand over the bedspread, almost as if testing its texture. “I don’t know why, but I feel…calm here.”

You smile, moving to stand beside him. “It’s our space. Your favorite spot after a long day, whether you’d admit it or not. You always said it’s the one place that lets you truly relax.”

He chuckles, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Yeah, well, if you say so. I…believe you.”

For a moment, there’s silence, and you can feel the weight of the day settling over both of you. He’s exhausted, and so are you.

“Do you…want to rest?” you ask, realizing he might be overwhelmed with all of this new information.

“Actually, I think I’d like to keep looking around,” he says, a little sheepishly. “I just…don’t want to miss anything. It feels like I’ve lost a huge chunk of my life, and I want to piece it together, however I can.”

You nod, understanding. You feel a pang of sadness but try to hide it. “Well, I’ll be here. We can take it slow. One room at a time.”

Together, you move back down the hallway, stopping in the kitchen next. Tony’s gaze catches on the coffee maker, and he raises his eyebrows with a look of genuine excitement. “Please tell me I still drink coffee.”

You laugh, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Oh, you drink enough coffee to fuel a small army. In fact…” You open a cabinet, revealing an impressive array of coffee beans, grounds, and Tony’s prized espresso machine. “You’re particular about it. You like to experiment.”

He nods, visibly impressed. “I see I have good taste. I’d like to think I’m a genius when it comes to coffee.”

“Among other things,” you reply, grinning as you start to brew a fresh pot, the familiar hum of the machine filling the room.

As the coffee brews, Tony leans against the counter, watching you with that spark of interest you remember so well. But now, it feels new, raw, as if he’s falling for you all over again and doesn’t quite know what to do with himself.

“So,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes, “you said we didn’t get along at first. How did I change your mind?”

You chuckle, handing him a mug and savoring the warmth as you lean back against the counter beside him. “It wasn’t any one thing. You…surprised me. I kept expecting you to be this arrogant genius with no time for anyone, but then you started showing up at my door with random inventions, making coffee runs at three a.m. with me, and bringing me little gifts from your travels.” You smile, remembering each moment as if it’s engraved in your memory. “You just…wore me down, I guess.”

He takes a sip of his coffee, mulling over your words, and you see the warmth in his expression, a flicker of understanding, even if it’s only a shadow of his former self.

“Well, then,” he says, his tone soft, “I’m glad I wore you down.”

His words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, the kitchen feels smaller, more intimate, filled with a sense of closeness that’s been there since the moment you met but now feels refreshingly new.

Tony shifts his weight, looking suddenly unsure. “So…do I get to sleep in our bed tonight?”

You raise an eyebrow, smiling a little as you nod. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As you walk back to the bedroom together, side by side, you feel a quiet sense of peace settle over you. Tony might not remember you—at least not yet—but he’s here, and he’s yours, and somehow, you’ll find a way to rebuild together.

You slip into bed, settling under the covers, and Tony follows suit, lying beside you with a soft sigh. After a moment’s hesitation, he reaches over, his hand brushing against yours beneath the covers. You entwine your fingers with his, and even though he doesn’t remember the countless nights you’ve fallen asleep like this, it feels natural.

“Goodnight,” he whispers, his voice soft.

“Goodnight, Tony,” you murmur back, your heart swelling with hope.

As the city lights outside cast a gentle glow across the room, you lie there, hand in hand, feeling the warmth of him beside you. And for the first time since the accident, you feel a flicker of reassurance.

The days start to blur together in a rhythm that feels both familiar and new. Tony’s memory isn’t coming back all at once, but he’s recovering it in little flashes, bits and pieces of who he used to be, of who you are to each other. And even though some of these memories are fleeting, almost insignificant, they build something solid between you—something that’s real and growing stronger with every passing moment.

It begins with breakfast one morning.

You’re standing at the stove, cooking eggs and listening to Tony talk about his latest gadget idea. He’s been getting back into work, tinkering here and there in the lab, and he always comes out in the morning with some grand plan or concept. It’s one of the things you’ve missed most—his enthusiasm, his endless curiosity, the way he lights up when he talks about creating something new. You smile, flipping the eggs onto plates and setting them on the counter.

“You know, I don’t think I ever realized how much you put up with me,” he says, leaning against the counter with that lopsided grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “All my late nights, random ideas, and, uh, probably a few accidental explosions.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes as you hand him his plate. “Oh, trust me, I’ve put up with plenty. But you make it worth it.”

He takes a bite, nodding as though savoring the taste. “You know…this feels familiar,” he says after a moment, frowning slightly. “Mornings like this. I used to sit here and watch you cook, didn’t I?”

“Every morning you didn’t have your face buried in a new project,” you reply softly, watching him carefully.

He pauses, that spark of recognition in his eyes growing, as if he’s trying to hold onto the memory, to make it solid. And then he’s looking at you, really looking at you, with a tenderness that feels almost shy. It’s a vulnerability you rarely see from Tony, and it makes your heart ache in the best way.

“I think I remember something else,” he murmurs, stepping around the counter to stand in front of you. “I remember sitting here and…thinking about how lucky I was.”

Your breath catches as he reaches out, his fingers grazing your cheek, tracing the curve of your jaw. His touch is tentative, almost reverent, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Tony…” you whisper, feeling your pulse quicken.

He leans in, his lips brushing yours in a soft, lingering kiss that’s both familiar and electrifying, like he’s rediscovering you for the first time. His hand moves to the small of your back, pulling you closer as his mouth moves against yours, slow and intense, like he’s savoring every second. When he pulls back, his eyes are darker, filled with something that looks like a mix of wonder and awe.

“I don’t remember everything,” he says softly, his voice rough, “but I don’t think I need to. This feels right.”

You smile, threading your fingers through his hair. “It is right,” you murmur, leaning up to kiss him again.

The memory flashes continue over the next few days, each one bringing him closer to the person he used to be. They’re small, fleeting things—a song that triggers a faint memory of a dance in the living room, the scent of his cologne reminding him of the night you first told him you loved him. Each one brings with it a sense of déjà vu, a feeling that tugs at his heart and pulls him closer to you.

One evening, you’re both sitting on the couch, your legs draped over his lap as you watch a movie together. It’s an old favorite, something you’ve watched countless times, and Tony seems to relax into the familiarity of it. His hand absentmindedly traces patterns on your thigh, and you can feel his warmth, his closeness, and it makes you feel grounded, steady.

Suddenly, he chuckles, looking down at your legs. “I remember this. You used to do this all the time. You’d kick off your shoes and practically sprawl across the couch.”

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “And you used to pretend to be annoyed, even though you secretly loved it.”

He raises an eyebrow, that playful smirk you know so well tugging at his lips. “Oh, I’m sure I did.”

You shift, leaning closer to him, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, his eyes filled with both affection and curiosity, that makes you feel bold, like you’re rediscovering each other in a way that’s fresh and exhilarating.

“Can I tell you something?” you murmur, your voice soft.

“Anything,” he says, his hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“When we first met, I thought you were this…impossible genius with no time for anyone,” you confess, your fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. “But then you’d look at me like this, with this softness, like I was the only person in the world.”

He leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Maybe you are.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and before you can respond, his mouth is on yours, capturing you in a kiss that’s anything but shy. It’s slow and deep, his hands sliding up your back as he pulls you into him, your bodies pressed together, fitting perfectly. His kisses are gentle yet intense, each one leaving you breathless, as if he’s trying to make up for all the lost time, all the memories he doesn’t yet have but that you both feel so deeply.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing heavily, hearts racing. He smiles, that teasing glint in his eyes as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why do I feel like I’ve kissed you a million times?” he murmurs, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. “Like I can’t get enough?”

“Maybe because you have,” you reply, your voice barely a whisper. “And I’ll never get enough of you, either.”

He chuckles, a sound that’s warm and filled with affection as he kisses you again, softer this time, more lingering, like he’s savoring every second. His lips move slowly over yours, his hands gentle as they cradle your face, as if he’s memorizing the feel of you, the way you fit together.

Over the next few days, the memories come more frequently, little fragments of your life that make him pause, that bring a flicker of recognition to his eyes. Sometimes it’s just a look he gives you, a soft smile that feels so familiar it makes your heart ache. Other times, it’s a touch—a hand on your back, a gentle brush of his fingers against yours—that reminds you of all the little ways he’s shown his love over the years.

And every time he remembers something, he falls in love with you a little more.

One night, as you’re both lying in bed, you reach over to turn off the light, but Tony stops you, his hand catching yours. He turns to you, his gaze soft but intense, filled with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away.

“I might not remember everything yet,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing your cheek, “but I know that I love you. I don’t need memories to know that.”

You feel a lump in your throat, a warmth spreading through you that’s both comforting and thrilling. “I love you, too, Tony,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his hand. “No matter what. I always have, and I always will.”

His smile is tender, filled with a gratitude that makes you realize just how lucky you both are, how strong this connection is between you. He leans in, kissing you with a softness that melts away all the uncertainty, all the fear that’s lingered since the accident.

And as you lie there together, wrapped in each other’s arms, you realize that this isn’t just a return to the life you had before. It’s something new, something deeper and more meaningful, a love that’s growing stronger every day. It’s a love that doesn’t need memories to survive because it’s written into every touch, every glance, every kiss you share.

The morning Tony’s memories come flooding back, it feels both surreal and inevitable. He wakes up beside you, his gaze fixed on the ceiling for a long moment before he turns to look at you, his expression a mixture of wonder, relief, and something deeper—something vulnerable. When he speaks, his voice is low, as if he’s afraid of breaking the spell.

“I remember everything,” he murmurs, his hand finding yours beneath the covers. His thumb traces gentle patterns on your knuckles, as though he’s grounding himself in the reality of the present. “Every detail, every moment. I remember…you.”

You blink away the tears that threaten to spill over, smiling as you reach up to cup his face. “You’re really back,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. “I missed you.”

He gives a soft laugh, his hand covering yours as he presses his forehead to yours. “You never really lost me, you know? And I… I missed you, too. Even when I didn’t remember all of it, I knew. I knew you were everything to me. I'd always fall for you.”

You fall into his arms, both of you holding each other tightly, like you’re afraid to let go. And in that embrace, you feel the weight of all those lost days lift, leaving only a warmth that radiates between you. He’s here, fully, and the two of you are whole again.

Later, you’re curled up on the couch together, a blanket draped over both of you, his arm wrapped securely around your shoulders as you cuddle into his side. You’ve both been talking, recounting memories, laughing at the more amusing fragments that came back to him in flashes. And then, an idea strikes you.

“Tony,” you say, glancing up at him with a mischievous grin, “there’s something you need to see.”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh, really? And what might that be?”

You grab your phone from the coffee table, pulling up a series of videos you took during his days without memories. Each one holds moments that, at the time, you’d been scared would be all you had left—little fragments of his affection, of the new ways he showed his love for you while he was rediscovering himself.

“Brace yourself,” you say, hitting play on the first video.

In it, Tony is sitting across from you at the kitchen table, his eyes sleepy and his hair a mess. He’s holding a mug of coffee, and he looks up at you with the softest, most adoring expression, blinking slowly like he can barely believe you’re real. “You’re so pretty,” he says, his voice a murmur, his gaze fixed on you as if you’re the only thing that matters in the entire world. “How did I get so lucky?”

The Tony beside you lets out a surprised laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever looked that…well, cuddly before.”

“Oh, that’s just the beginning,” you say, grinning as you play the next video.

This one shows him lying on the couch, his head in your lap as you’re reading a book. He’s practically burrowed into you, his arms wrapped around your waist, his face buried against your stomach. Every now and then, he looks up at you with these wide, affectionate eyes, and even without memories, he’s the picture of absolute adoration.

“Is that…me?” Tony asks, a touch of disbelief in his voice as he watches himself look up at you like that. “I’m like a…like a giant puppy.”

“Oh, you were,” you laugh, rubbing his arm affectionately. “I have so many videos like this. You’d barely let me out of your sight. I think losing your memories made you even clingier.”

He snorts, shaking his head as he pulls you closer. “Well, can you blame me? I mean, look at you. Not remembering you was bad enough—I guess I was just making sure I didn’t forget you again.”

The next video is of him in bed, lying half-asleep with his arm stretched out, reaching for you. His voice, groggy and low, calls your name softly, and you hear yourself laugh from behind the camera as you step into view. When you do, he pulls you into the bed, wrapping his arms around you like he never wants to let go. He sighs in contentment, pressing his lips to your forehead and murmuring something unintelligible, and even watching it now, you feel that familiar warmth spread through your chest.

Tony, watching beside you, is silent for a long moment, his gaze softened as he watches himself cling to you like that. When the video ends, he turns to you, a tenderness in his expression that takes your breath away.

“I can’t believe I didn’t remember you,” he whispers, his fingers brushing your cheek. “But even when I couldn’t…I needed you.”

You place a hand over his, smiling softly. “I think a part of you did remember, in a way. You were still you—maybe a little cuddlier than usual,” you tease, “but you were still you.”

His lips curve into a playful grin. “So, I was clingy, huh? Was I any good at it?”

“Oh, you were very good at it,” you say, laughter bubbling up. “I mean, I kind of got used to waking up with you practically draped over me. I’m almost going to miss it.”

His grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. “Well, if you liked clingy Tony, I think I can accommodate,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your ear as he tightens his hold on you.

You giggle, curling your arms around his neck as he presses a series of soft, lingering kisses along your jaw. “Mmm, maybe I did like clingy Tony,” you whisper, your fingers threading through his hair.

He chuckles, his lips trailing down to your neck, his hands running up and down your sides as he nuzzles into you, his warmth enveloping you. “Well then, Mrs. Stark, it looks like you’re in luck.”

His mouth finds yours, and he kisses you deeply, his hands gentle but insistent as he pulls you closer. The kiss is soft and tender, but there’s an intensity to it, a passion that feels even stronger now that he has all his memories back. It’s like he’s making up for lost time, savoring every second, every touch, every shared breath.

When he pulls back, he leans his forehead against yours, his voice a low murmur. “I don’t think I could ever let you go again,” he says, his hands sliding to your waist as he holds you close. “Every second without you felt…wrong, somehow. Now that I know everything, it’s like my whole world is back.”

You smile, brushing your fingers along his jaw as you gaze into his eyes. “Then don’t let go,” you whisper, your heart racing as he closes the small distance between you again, his mouth meeting yours in a kiss that’s both familiar and exhilarating.

soft Tony is just a baby <3 if you liked the story leave a like and a reblog and drop a follow if you want to read more!

[nixiefics]

Posses

Pairing: Robb Stark X Silent!Sister Reader

Warnings: Smut, posessive Robb, p in v sex, oral (female receiving), rough sex

Robb Stark winces as you carefully manipulate his leg, guiding his hip back into place with practiced hands. The sharp intake of breath that escapes him when the bone finally clicks into its rightful position tells you just how much pain he’s been enduring. You’ve been a Silent Sister in training for only a short time, but already you’ve seen more suffering than you ever imagined possible. Yet, this man, the Young Wolf, is different. His pain seems to ripple through you as if it were your own.

“Thank you,” he says, his voice strained but genuine. His blue eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you forget the vow of silence you took upon entering your order. You nod in acknowledgment, your fingers still lingering on his hip, feeling the heat of his body through the thin linen of his undergarment.

Days pass, and you tend to Robb’s injuries with unwavering diligence. His recovery is slow, but each day he grows stronger. You watch as he interacts with his men, see the respect and loyalty they have for him. He’s not just their King; he’s their friend, their brother. It’s a bond forged in the fires of battle and tempered by the fairness and justice he shows them.

Grey Wind, his direwolf, is never far from his side. The massive wolf seems to sense your importance to Robb, often watching you with intelligent, piercing eyes. When you approach, Grey Wind’s posture is relaxed, but the unspoken warning is clear: you are under his protection as well.

But it’s not just his men and his direwolf who are drawn to him. You feel an undeniable pull towards Robb Stark. His kindness, his honour, his unwavering dedication to his family and his cause – all of it captivates you. You’ve seen men broken by war, their spirits shattered as surely as their bodies, but Robb remains whole. More than whole, he seems to grow stronger with each passing day, his determination like a beacon in the dark.

One evening, as you’re tending to another soldier’s wounds, you feel his eyes on you. Robb watches from across the camp, his jaw tight, his eyes dark with something you can’t quite name. Jealousy? The thought lingers as you stitch up the gash on the soldier’s arm, your hands steady despite the intensity of Robb’s gaze. Grey Wind is by his side, growling softly, mirroring Robb’s protective feelings.

Later, as you change the dressing on Robb’s hip, he grabs your wrist, his grip surprisingly strong. “You spend too much time with the others,” he says, his voice low and edged with frustration. “I need you with me.”

You look up, startled by the intensity in his eyes. You try to pull away, but his hold tightens. “I don’t want you tending to them,” he says, his voice rough. “I want you by my side. Always.”

You nod, your heart pounding. His possessiveness is startling, but also oddly reassuring. It means he cares, that he values you more than you realized. From that moment on, you are always at his side, tending to his needs, ensuring his recovery. Grey Wind often lies nearby, his presence a constant reminder of Robb’s vigilance even when he cannot be with you.

The other men notice, their eyes following you with curiosity and a hint of envy. Robb’s attention and possessiveness are clear to all, and it changes the dynamic in the camp. No longer just a healer, you are now the woman who has captured the heart of the Young Wolf.

One day, you’re tending to a minor injury on a young soldier when Robb storms into the tent. His face is a mask of barely controlled anger. “Leave us,” he commands the soldier, who scrambles to his feet and exits hastily.

Robb strides over to you, his eyes blazing. “I told you, I don’t want you with them,” he growls, grabbing your hand and pulling you close. “You’re mine.”

You can feel the heat of his breath on your face, the intensity of his emotions crashing over you like a wave. His jealousy is raw, visceral, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You’ve never seen him like this, so consumed by his need for you. Grey Wind stands at his side, his eyes fixed on you, a silent enforcer of Robb’s wishes.

“I can’t stand seeing you with them,” he admits, his voice a harsh whisper. “It tears me apart. You’re the only one who understands me, who makes me feel whole. I need you, only you.”

You reach up, placing a gentle hand on his cheek, feeling the tension in his jaw. You nod, your silent promise to be by his side always. His grip on you softens, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. Grey Wind nudges your leg gently, as if to seal the promise.

In the weeks that follow, Robb’s possessiveness only grows. He keeps you close, his eyes always on you, ensuring that no one else can claim your attention. It’s a fierce, consuming need that drives him, a reflection of the depth of his feelings for you. Grey Wind is never far, his protective presence a constant reminder of the bond you share with Robb.

One night, as you sit by the fire, he pulls you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you protectively. “You’re mine,” he whispers into your ear, his voice a low growl. “No one else’s. Remember that.”

You nod, your heart swelling with a mixture of love and something darker, more primal. Robb Stark may be the Young Wolf, a fearsome leader and a brilliant strategist, but to you, he is simply Robb – the man who would fight the world to keep you by his side. And as you look into his eyes, you know that you would do the same for him.

One afternoon, you are out gathering herbs when a group of soldiers approaches you. They’re friendly, asking for your help with minor ailments. Before you can respond, Grey Wind appears from the trees, teeth bared, a low growl rumbling from his throat. The soldiers step back, fear evident in their eyes.

You pat his head gently in warning, but the direwolf’s eyes remain fixed on the men until they retreat. When you return to camp, Robb is waiting, his eyes dark with concern and jealousy.

“Were they bothering you?” he asks, his voice tight.

You shake your head, but Robb pulls you into his arms, holding you close. “I don’t want you going out alone anymore,” he says. “Grey Wind will accompany you, or I will.”

You nod, understanding the depth of his worry. His possessiveness is more than just jealousy; it’s a need to protect you, to keep you safe in a world that is anything but. You feel his love in every fierce look, every protective gesture, every time Grey Wind’s eyes follow you like a shadow.

As Robb’s recovery progresses, your bond deepens. He confides in you, shares his fears, his hopes, his dreams. You listen, your silence a balm to his troubled soul. And in those quiet moments, you realize that you’ve found something rare and precious in the midst of war.

Robb’s men see the change in their lord, the lightness in his step, the hope in his eyes. They see the way he looks at you, the way Grey Wind shadows your every move, and they understand. The Young Wolf has found his heart, and it beats for you.

One night, as you sit by the fire, Robb’s arms around you and Grey Wind at your feet, he whispers, “You’re mine, and I am yours. Always.”

You smile, knowing that no matter what the future holds, you will face it together. Robb Stark may be the Young Wolf, a fearsome leader and a brilliant strategist, but to you, he is simply Robb – the man who captured your heart with his honour, his kindness, and his unwavering love. And in his eyes, you see the same love reflected back at you, a bond that no war, no enemy, can ever break.

"You should rest, My King," you say softly. "Let us retire for the evening."

Your words leave him stunned for a moment. You have taken a vow of silence, yet here you are, speaking to him. The surprise in his eyes quickly melts into something deeper, a mixture of relief and gratitude. Robb nods, allowing you to help him up, your hands steadying him as he leans on you for support. Grey Wind shadows your every step, his amber eyes watching protectively.

As you guide Robb towards his tent, the camp around you starts to quiet down. The fires burn low, casting flickering shadows that dance in the night. You can feel the weight of Robb’s gaze on you, the unspoken questions simmering just beneath the surface.

Inside the tent, the atmosphere is warm and intimate. You help Robb ease down onto his furs, his eyes never leaving yours. He reaches for your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. “Why now?” he asks softly, his voice tinged with curiosity and concern. “Why break your vow of silence?”

You take a deep breath, kneeling beside him. “Because I need you to understand,” you begin, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. “My silence was a shield, a way to distance myself from the pain and suffering I witnessed. But with you, it’s different. I can’t remain silent any longer. Not when my heart speaks so loudly.”

Robb’s eyes soften, his hand squeezing yours gently. “What are you saying?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m saying that I want to leave the Silent Sisters,” you declare, your resolve hardening. “But I will only do so if you share my commitment, if you promise that our bond is as strong as I believe it to be.”

Robb’s eyes widen, his surprise evident. He pulls you closer, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You would give up your vows for me?” he asks, his voice filled with awe.

You nod, your heart pounding. “Yes. But only if you promise to be with me, to share this life with me. I cannot leave my order for uncertainty. I need your commitment, Robb.”

Robb’s expression transforms into one of determination. “I promise,” he says firmly, his eyes locking onto yours. “You have my word. I will stand by you, always. You are not just my healer, but my heart. I need you by my side.”

A sense of relief washes over you, and you lean into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace. Grey Wind huffs and trots to settle just outside the entrance to the tent, a silent sentinel watching over you both. For the first time in a long while, you feel a sense of peace and belonging.

Robb cups your face in his hands, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You’ve given me more than just my health,” he whispers. “You’ve given me hope, a future I didn’t dare dream of. I promise you, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, to make you happy.”

Tears of relief and joy well in your eyes as you nod. “And I promise to stand by you, to support you in every way I can,” you vow, your voice filled with emotion.

Robb leans in, his forehead resting against yours. “We will face whatever comes together,” he murmurs. “From this day forward, we are bound by more than just duty. We are bound by love.”

Robb leans in, his forehead resting against yours. “We will face whatever comes together,” he murmurs. “From this day forward, we are bound by more than just duty. We are bound by love.”

His words hang in the air, heavy with promise and certainty. You feel the heat of his breath, the nearness of his lips, and it sends a shiver down your spine. The world around you fades away until there is only Robb—his eyes, his touch, his unwavering gaze that holds you captive.

Slowly, he tilts his head, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a touch. The sensation is electric, a spark that ignites something deep within you. His hands cup your face gently, his thumbs caressing your cheeks with a tenderness that belies the intensity of his emotions.

Then, without warning, the kiss deepens. His lips press against yours with a fervour that takes your breath away. It’s as if he’s pouring all his love, all his passion, into this single moment, and you respond in kind, matching his intensity. Your hands find their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft, dark strands as you pull him closer.

The kiss is searing, consuming. It feels like the world is burning around you, but all you can focus on is the sensation of his lips on yours, the taste of him, the way his body presses against yours with a desperate need. Every brush of his lips, every flick of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

Robb’s hands slide down to your waist, pulling you even closer until there is no space between you. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, mirroring the wild rhythm of your own. His lips leave yours only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your neck, igniting a trail of fire in their wake.

You gasp, your head falling back as he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sends a jolt of pure pleasure through you. “Robb,” you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. He responds with a low growl, his hands gripping your hips possessively as he brings his lips back to yours in another fevered kiss.

Time loses all meaning as you lose yourself in him, in the heat of his kiss, the strength of his embrace. The world outside the tent, the war, the uncertainty of the future—all of it fades away until there is only this moment, this man, and the love that binds you together.

Robb’s hands slide down to your waist, pulling you even closer until there is no space between you. You can feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest, mirroring the wild rhythm of your own. His lips leave yours only to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, your neck, igniting a trail of fire in their wake.

You gasp, your head falling back as he finds the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sends a jolt of pure pleasure through you. “Robb,” you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. He responds with a low growl, his hands gripping your hips possessively as he brings his lips back to yours in another fevered kiss.

Time loses all meaning as you lose yourself in him, in the heat of his kiss, the strength of his embrace. The world outside the tent, the war, the uncertainty of the future—all of it fades away until there is only this moment, this man, and the love that binds you together.

You're vaguely aware of his fingers at the laces of your dress, tugging impatiently at them. Soon, it seems, he loses all patience and you gasp as he violently rips at the seams of your dress, pushing it over your shoulders and hips with a growl. "On the bed."

You crawl to the middle of the bed of furs, your heart pounding with anticipation as Robb stands before you with a hungry gaze. His possessive nature has always been clear, but now it's different - now, it's thrilling and exciting.

He sheds his own layers first, causing you swallow thickly as his chest is exposed; thick thighs built for fighting but that make you think they might be good for other pleasures as well. And then he is completely bare and you feel your core clench at the sight of his cock. Thicker than it was long, with veins running all along it; the thought of running your tongue over those veins makes your mouth water.

"Gods, you're glorious." you whisper, resisting the urge to chew at your nails.

Robb's calloused hands trace the curves of your body, sending shivers down your spine. His touch is confident and passionate, and you can't help but feel desired under his gaze. His lips find yours, and he kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with a fervour that leaves you breathless.

As he breaks the kiss, his mouth moves to your neck, nibbling and licking the sensitive skin. You moan softly, your fingers tangling in his hair as he continues his assault on your senses. His hands slip under your shift, caressing your breasts with calloused hands. You arch your back, pressing yourself into his touch, wanting more.

Robb takes the hint, his fingers deftly removing your shift and freeing your body to his gaze. His mouth finds your nipples, and he sucks and nips at them, his stubble adding an extra layer of sensation. You gasp, your head falling back as he worships your body.

His hands trail down your body, fingers find your clit, and he begins to rub slow circles, making you moan and writhe beneath him. His other hand joins the first as well, his fingers sliding into your wet pussy. You are more than ready for him.

His head dips between your legs, and his tongue finds your clit. He licks and sucks, his fingers still inside you, curled to hit that perfect spot. You moan louder, your hips bucking as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

Just as you're about to cum, he stops. You look at him, confused, but he just smirks at you. Robb pulls himself to his knees, positioning himself between your legs. He rubs the head of his cock against your clit, making you moan loudly again. He teases you like this for a moment before slowly sliding inside you.

He fills you up, stretching you in the most delicious way. He starts to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside you.

Robb's pace quickens, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. You can feel yourself getting close again, and you urge him on. "Harder, Robb, harder," you gasp. He complies, his cock slamming into you, making the bed shake.

You feel yourself on the brink, and then you're cumming, your orgasm ripping through you like a tidal wave. Robb keeps thrusting, drawing out your pleasure until he finally follows you over the edge, filling you up with his cum.

He collapses on top of you, his breathing heavy and ragged. You wrap your arms around him, feeling closer to him than ever before. Robb's possessiveness has always been a part of him, but now, it's something else - it's a sign of his love and devotion to you.

As you lay there, basking in the afterglow of your lovemaking, you know that this is just the beginning of your journey together. And you can't wait to see where it takes you.

[azzifuddfanpage]

I have yet to see a fanfic featuring the famous love and basketball scene .. where they play 1v1 in the dorm for clothes. So strip basketball. So do with this what you will.

Love and basketball

————

2.6k words

p receiving * if u wanna see Azzi receiving I did the same story but switched it around so Azzi was receiving 🫶 Tw: smut/ swearing

themes: strip basketball/ p receiving

————

It was a Friday night after summer preseason workouts, everyone had for the most part retired to their own rooms, except for kk, ice, and Jana who’s voices carried through the living room.

Over the summer, the girls had no other commitments aside from their practices that were three times a day. Morning shoot around, weight room , practice, weight room again, then a break, and a couple hours later weight room again, scrimmages, and recovery. By the end of the day, the entire team was wiped.

Often Paige and Azzi would use this as an opportunity to “accidentally” fall asleep in each other dorms (usually paige’s since it was cleaner). They would start with a movie and eventually fall asleep- this would have happened either way.

It was perfect though, the perfect plan, for the perfect summer, of the perfect season where both paige and Azzi would be back and full strength together- nothing was stopping them from their championship now.

——— 

Tonight paige and Azzi were cuddled up watching love and basketball- their favorite movie. 

Paige could feel Azzi’s head sink down on her shoulder, heightened with sleep. Paige smiled contently to herself, wrapping her arm around the peaceful brunette.

About an hour and 12 minutes into the movie 😉-paige knew this by heart, the strip scene came up. 

She looked down at Azzi smirking, Azzi who was almost asleep opened one eye, feeling paige’s gaze on her. 

“Oh my god paige enough- no- I’m tired.” Azzi said rolling her eyes and nuzzling herself farther into paige’s chest.

“Come on Azzi it would be fun.” Paige whined pulling away so Azzi was forced to sit up. 

“No paige not tonight.” Azzi pouted pulling away pillow down and putting her head on that defiantly.

Paige smirked, she wasn’t giving up that easily.

Paige simply leaned backl agaisnt the head board. 

“I mean you’re right since I would probably win anyway. Paige snickered folding her arms above her head teasingly.

Azzi looked up, her eyes being drawn to the gap of bear skin showing between the band of her sweatpants and her shirt, she could make out the faint pink of the thong she was wearing. Azzi could have sworn her mouth was literally watering, desperate for it to be on paige’s pussy.

After a few minutes of a strong internal battle, Azzi gave in.

“Fine but only because I’m gonna win.” Azzi stated sliding off the bed to grab paige’s mini basketballs from across the room.

Paige smirked as Azzi bent over to grab them, but was caught as Azzi turned around before she could look away. 

“Wow the game hasn’t even started and you’re already undressing me with your eyes.” Azzi laughed, throwing the ball to hit paige in the head.

“Ya whatever, it’s gonna happen eventually anyway because I’m gonna win.” Paige said throwing the ball in the air and catching it.

Azzi laughed making her way over to paige.

“So same rules?” Azzi asked. “You make a shot, I take something off. I score, you take something off.” Azzi continued crawling on the bed so she was straddling paige.

Paige gulped, the heat between her legs was already growing and she couldn’t help herself but secretly want to loose so Azzi would win and touch her.

“Nah it’s too easy little miss sharpshooter,” paige started, “I say we make it harder… I make a shot, you have to make it the same way, if you don’t get it you take a piece of clothing off- one of my choosing- and then you make a shot and I have to make it from the same spot, if I miss, you take a piece off me. By the end whoever is completely naked gets strapped.” Paige finished confidently.

“Wow I didn’t realize you were okay with being strapped.” Azzi laughed leaning forward and rubbing her finger along paige’s upper lip.

“Who says I’m gonna be strapped?” Paige said shocked putting a hand to her heart as if she had been stabbed.

Azzi laughed and rolled over off of paige’s stomach so they were laying side by side next to the door. 

“Ladies first” Azzi smirked, causing paige to pout.

“Hey I’m supposed to be saying that to you.” Paige whined glaring at Azzi who was laughing at her. 

“Are you not a lady?” Azzi asked.

Paige just rolled her eyes, “ugh fine whatever. We can start easy baby don’t worry.” Paige smirked, sitting up in the bed and shooting the mini basketball at the net on her door.

“Swish”

“Nothing but net” paige said triumphantly. 

“Wow someone must have been practicing.” Azzi laughed. “You would absolutely kill those 5 year old boys who also have these in their rooms.” Azzi continued arcing the ball and throwing it up so it splashed through the net barely missing the rim.

“That was okay I guess- maybe less rim next time but it’s okay!” Paige smiled. 

Azzi rolled her eyes. 

“Alright tough guy.” Azzi huffed. She lay back on the bed so she was horizontal, and through the ball up so it would swish through the net.

“Easy” paige said confidently, matching her form, laying down, and shooting the ball right into the net. 

“Get ready to take off that shirt.” She continued, not wasting a minute. 

Staying in the same position, head against the pillow, she looked at Azzi and shot the ball without looking, her eyes never leaving Azzi’s. 

Both of them could feel the charge in the air, it was strong, and it made it hard for Azzi to focus- as she could feel paige’s warm breath against her neck. 

“Swish”

“Alright baby let’s see it.” Paige smirked getting ready to collect her prize.

Just as she expected the ball bounced in and out. 

“YES! LETS FUKCING GO” paige shouted leaping upright to watch with wide eyes as Azzi lifted the shirt over her shoulders.

Paige was staring at her white sports bra, her nipples poking through the thin fabric.

She licked her lips.

“your turn Azzi.” She said, her voice a little softer now that the game was getting more real. 

Azzi smirked, switching the ball to one hand and lobbing it at the net, her form a little less graceful- but it still sunk through the net. 

“Damn I don’t even know how the fuck you just made that with that form.” Paige laughed. “You’re lucky Geno wasn’t here.” She continued, lining herself to take her shot. 

“No trust me. You’re lucky.” Azzi whispered into her ear as the ball left her hand and rattled off the rim.

“Bruh you are such a cheater. You messed me up.” Paige whined irritated. 

“I didn’t do a thing.” Azzi said laughing as Paige pouted. Thank god she was so easy to fluster.

“Oh and you can take off your shirt too.” Azzi said sizing paige up.

Paige huffed leaning up in the bed and pulling off her t shirt so she was wearing only her sports bra as well. 

Paige was a little more rattled now than she liked to admit. She took her shot, turning around and throwing it over her head. 

It rattled out of the net.

“Now why would you even think that would go in….” Azzi laughed. “Why do I feel like you just want to be strapped at this point.” She continued turning around and lining herself up. 

She needed to make this, who knew if she would ever get this opppirtunity again. She leaned back and through the ball over her head.

By some how, the ball magically swished through the net.

“Are you fucking kidding??? How the fuck did you just make that.” Paige groaned throwing her head back against the pillow. 

Azzi’s breath hitched at the slight flex of paige’s jaw. She loved when she got all competitive like this. 

“Just motivated I guess.” Azzi said as she ran her fingers along paige’s jaw. 

Paige was irritated now, if Azzi was going to cheat, this wouldn’t be as much fun as she thought. How was she going to control herself with Azzi sitting so close with her half naked.

Paige grumbled and pulled off her bra, her perky breasts popping out, the cold air hardening her nipples. She was siked out now. 

She watched as Azzi’s eyes glaanced over her body lovingly, paige could feel the wetness grow between her legs- she was screwed if she had to take off her pants.

Azzi kept her eyes on her and sunk another one. Paige couldn’t help herself but feel a chill run along her body. 

She was embarrassed at the effect Azzi was having on her, so early too. Paige kept her eyes on Azzi trying to mimic her no look shot, but her eyes couldn’t help but wander to Azzi’s lips, distracted by their plumpness and the way Azzi’s tongue ran cross them, wetting them. 

Paige shot the ball, and even without looking new it didn’t go in as she could see the satisfaction all over Azzi’s face. 

Azzi smirked. “You need help with your pants P?” Azzi laughed as she could see paige’s cheeks redden instantly. 

“No actually I don’t.” Paige huffed. Reaching down and pulling her pants down her legs and throwing them across the room and landing them in the hamper. 

“Now if only your shots would fall like that in the net” Azzi smirked her eyes trailing down paige’s body and landing on her pink thong. 

“Fucking knew you were wearing those you slut.” Azzi teased. 

“Whatever” paige said trying to keep a straight face but part of her was crumbling at Azzi’s words. 

Paige leaned forward onto her stomach, teasing Azzi as she arched a little, feeling confident as she could hear Azzi’s breath catch in her throat. 

She through the ball up underhand and smiled to herself as it arced and landed in the net.

Azzi crawled over, a little rattled from paige’s sudden boldness, and repeated her motion.

Unfortunately the ball rimmed a couple times and fell out, bouncing off the rim. 

“Got what you wanted huh.” Azzi said as she pulled her bra off over her head letting her perfect tits spill out. 

Paige smirked staring at the beautiful girl in front of her. 

“Knew you wouldn’t last long against me.” Paige sneered reaching for Azzi’s breasts. 

“Hey no touchjng til after.” Azzi said, pulling away. 

“You’re right, the victory will feel better when the first thing that touches you is my strap.” Paige smirked confidently, as Azzi lined herself up for her shot sinking it in.

She turned to paige seductively. 

Paige began to line herself up with the net, Azzi smirked and leaned in towards her ear. 

“Gonna have to fuck the attitude out of you aren’t I.” Azzi practically moaned in her ear. 

Paige, completely shocked by Azzi’s choice of words through the ball up and watched as it bounced off the rim. 

“Fuck” paige said under her breath. 

“It’s okay Paigey I’ll be gentle.” Azzi winked, getting up from the bed and making her way over to the closet. 

“You’re such a cheater.” Paige whined, throwing herself against the bed and putting her arms over her face. 

Azzi returned and crept towards paige.

She took of the remainder of her clothes and slid on the harness.

“Take your pants off paige.” Azzi said dominantly, inching towards her.

Once paige’s pants were off, and she lay in front of her completely bare, Azzi couldn’t help but let her eyes wonder all over her body. She traced every birthmark, every freckle with her eyes, trying to paint a permanent picture in her mind. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Azzi sighed as she climbed onto the bed and crawled up so her hips were over paige’s mouth. 

“Sit up and suck.” Azzi ordered, shoving it towards paige’s mouth. 

Irritated, paige did as she was told. 

At first she was a little more timid, licking the tip and putting the head in her mouth, but she got more confident and began to feel the strap hit the back of her throat. 

“Doing so good for me baby.” Azzi moaned as she watched paige look up at her with big needy eyes. 

Azzi pulled the strap out of her with a pop. And ran the tip along her bare stomach, leaving a trail of her own saliva all the way down to her clit.

She rubbed a few tight circles against her already puffy clit, and watched as paige wiggled underneath her. 

“Fuck Azzi just put it in oh my god.” Paige groaned trying to move her hips so the strap was directly above her entrance. 

Azzi laughed, “should have made better shots huh baby.” 

“Give me a break Azzi you were literally cheating.” Paige whined as Azzi ran the strap through her folds.

“Fine whatever, you can call it cheating, I call it using my resources, but what’s done is done. You are going to take this strap and let me fuck you, and you are going to be a good girl. 

Paige whimpered at her words, nodding her head submissively. 

With that Azzi thrust the strap into her, causing paige to let out a gasp at the unfamiliar pressure. 

She wasn’t used to this feeling of being filled up. She tried to adjust to the thickness inside of her, but Azzi pulled out quickly. 

Paige caught her breath, but was a series of moans again as Azzi began to play with her clit. 

“Taking me so well baby.” Azzi said as she slid the strap back into her, watching as her soaping pussy sucked it in. 

Paige moaned and wiggled under her touch. 

She could feel the strap banging into her walls as Azzi sped up her pass, thrusting into her with more force.

Paige groaned, her fingers crawling at Azzi’s back, begging Azzi to push deeper inside of her.

“I’m so close holy fuck.” Paige moaned, feeling her walls start tighten and clamp around the strap. 

Right as she was nearing release Azzi pulled out.

Paige was startled, “wha- why did you do that. Fuck Azzi” paige started but was cut off when Azzi told her to get on all fours.

Desperate to reach her climax, paige did as she was told, getting onto all fours and arching her back to give Azzi access to her pink pussy. 

Paige wiggled her butt, desperate for Azzi to fill her up again, and before she new it, Azzi was pounding back into her with so much force paige could have sworn she was ripping through her cervix. 

“FUCK DONT STOP RIGHT THERE” paige shouted as Azzi hit her g spot. 

Paige could feel herself loose control, her cum spilling out and down her legs.

Azzi moved her fingers to start to rub against her clit, pulling the strap out, letting the rest of paige’s cum pour out of her and onto the sheets. 

Paige flipped over onto her stomach, her breathing ragged as she stared up at Azzi who was continuing to ride out her high. 

“Did so good for me baby.” Azzi said leaning down to press a kiss to paige’s sensitive clit. 

“Don’t get used to this.” Paige smirked as Azzi lay down next to her. 

“Ya we will see about that.” Azzi challenged snuggling back up against paige. 

[alotofpockets]

How strong you are | Jessie Fleming x Chelsea!Reader

5k celebration prompt: "Your scars don’t make you weak, they show how strong you are."

Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

-----

Your first day back in training after your injury. It felt like something big, especially because it was the first major injury you’ve had since the start of your career. Where your girlfriend had been excited for your return to the pitch, you were mainly feeling nervous.

The recovery had been a lot. Both mentally and physically it had been a struggle. Your girlfriend has been with you every step of the way. Without Jessie by your side, you don’t think you would have made it through. She had been your rock throughout the whole recovery journey.

She was downstairs, cleaning up after breakfast while you were getting changed into your training gear. Jessie hadn’t expected you to take so long, so she went up to check on you. She found you in your training top, but still in just your underwear for bottoms. A pair of training shorts and joggers laid in front of you on the bed.

Your eyes moved between them like you were trying to solve a puzzle. She sat down on the edge of the bed and waited for you to meet her eyes. When you finally did, she smiled your way. “Tell me what you’re thinking?”

“I don’t know which to wear to training.” Jessie had a feeling of the underlying reason, but she knew it would be better if you talked about your feelings, so she asked you anyways. “Oh, yeah? Why is that?”

With a shrug of your shoulders you sat down on the bed with her. Your eyes settled on your knee, the fresh surgery scar staring back at you. Jessie knew then that her suspicion was right, still she wanted you to be the one to say it, so she stayed quiet and let you take your time. 

She reached for your hand, her fingers interlocking with yours, offering a quiet reassurance as you sifted through your thoughts. Her touch grounded you, like an anchor in a storm, reminding you that she'd be there to catch you if you fell.

Still the words, “Nevermind,” Came out of your mouth, “I’ll just wear the joggers.” You started getting up, but Jessie used your intertwined hands to keep you down. “Baby, you hate wearing joggers for training.”

You shrugged, “I am allowed to change my mind.” Jessie knew you had a point, of course you were allowed to change your mind, but she knew there was more to it than that. “You are allowed to change your mind every day of the week, and I will support you no matter what. But baby, you hate joggers with a passion. You wear shorts even in the middle of Canadian winter.”

Her comment made you chuckle, she was right of course. The tightness of joggers had always been the reason you hated to wear them. Even the cold bothered you less than training in joggers, and that says a lot when you know how cold it can get in Canada.

“I know, I do hate them and I will never change my mind on them. But my scar. Everyone will see it. Everyone will see that my body is weak, that I am weak. I’d rather be uncomfortable than weak.”

You had been wearing your shorts to your gym sessions over your recovery period, but that was just you and the trainer, plus occasionally Jessie who came to check in. The trainer was more than accustomed to injured players and their rehabilitation, so there you hadn’t really minded. This time it would be in front of the whole team, and you didn’t know how to feel about that.

Even though Jessie had guessed that this was the underlying reason, it still hurt hearing you say it like that. Did you really think you were weak? She didn’t give herself much time to think about that though, she wanted to reassure you right away.

"Your scars don’t make you weak, they show how strong you are." She took your other hand in hers as well. “They show that despite something going wrong, you overcame it. You got back up, and took care of your body. That already makes you strong, and what makes you even stronger, is that you are not just recovering from an injury, you’re getting back from it.”

Jessie was so good with her words that you were tearing up a little. “Do you really think so?” She smiled and gave your hands a reassuring squeeze. “I know so. While you haven’t been on the pitch yet, I can tell from your sessions in the gym that you are going to come back stronger.”

You pulled Jessie in for a hug after that, thanking her for always being there for you. Together you stayed like that for a moment, before Jessie pulled away. “Alright, we have to leave in a bit. I’ll go put our stuff in the car. Go put on some bottoms you’re comfortable with today, and I’ll meet you downstairs, okay?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be right down. Thank you Jess, you’re the best.” You pecked her lips and watched her walk out of the room. Leaving you to choose which bottoms to wear by yourself.

You eyed the shorts and the joggers a final time, now less puzzled than before. Jessie had been right, you despised joggers, and you were proud of all of your teammates and friends you had seen come back from injuries, so why not you?

So, with a new sense of confidence you grabbed the shorts and put them on. You knew you’d still be thinking about what others thought, that wouldn’t just go away of course, but you knew that your scar wasn’t something you should be self conscious about.

Jessie smiled wide when she saw you walk into the living room. “That’s my girl.” She hugged you tight. “I am so proud of you. And I cannot wait to see you out on the pitch again, continuing to take care of your body, and working towards your full comeback.”

With her arm still around your shoulder, she walked you to the car. “You are going to do amazing today.” She said with a kiss to your cheek before you drove off to training.

-----

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[ftmtf-doll]

Want my friends and family to be concerned when we announce that I'm pregnant. I've always been so adamant that it would never happen to me, my dysphoria being too strong. You'll laugh and say it was an accident, wrapping your arm possessively around my shoulder and saying that I'm keeping it.

No one says anything as my body slowly feminizes, not wanting to make me feel bad about having to go off testosterone for the baby. They're all pretty sure it's more than just pregnancy hormones, it's almost like I'm deliberately trying to look more feminine. But I seem happy enough, so no one mentions it when my hair starts growing long and start shaving all my body hair off

It doesn't help that you're always by my side, talking about how excited we both are to be parents, how wonderfully the pregnancy is going. We get a couple concerned looks whenever you call me the mom-to-be, but I just smile and laugh so it must be fine, right? Surely we talked about this and I'm OK with it

Soon enough I'm wearing exclusively maternity dresses, more often than not low cut ones that show off my breasts which have grown significantly with the pregnancy. We just couldn't find anything else that fit, you explain to our friends who don't fully believe you, but i don't seem too bothered by it so they let it go. Soon some of them start slipping up, accidentally misgendering me. It's an honest mistake every time, its just that well... I really don't look like a man anymore. You laugh and say it's ok whenever they apologize, saying that I'm used to it since strangers see a pregnant person and automatically assume they're a woman.

It's right before the baby comes that you start posting a bunch of cutesy couple photos showing off my warped body, all using my dead name and calling me she/her. Everyone sees it, and everyone talks about it. Some saying they can't believe this, that I'd always seemed so happy as a man. Others saying they'd seen it coming in how I acted over my pregnancy. Some are concerned, worrying if this is really what I want, but surely I would say something if I didn't want this so they leave it be

It's after the baby comes that I officially tell people I'm no longer a man. Well, you tell people for me. I'm just soo busy with the baby and recovery, after all. And if I seem stressed or upset, it's just me getting used to motherhood. Totally not because of anything else

Little do they know, you poked holes in the condom to get me pregnant all with the goal of turning me into your perfect wife. I never wanted any of this, never wanted to be a woman, but you slowly but surely wore me down and changed my body forever. Convinced all our friends that this is what i wanted, that it was my choice. How could I ever explain to everyone that my perfect loving doting partner tricked me, forced this upon me? No one would ever believe me

You're already planning on putting the next baby in me

[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Thirteen: [Panic Room]

Summary: Jakes darkest fears come to fruition when surgery doesn’t go as planned and the months to come bring a new reality he never saw coming.

Warnings: MAIN CHARACTER DEATH Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion.

Word Count: 5.5k

Author Note: A big show of appreciation and love to @a-reader-and-a-writer (Vee) for constantly being ready and willing to help me with my writing. You have been the backbone I needed to get this done!

You guys will never know how much this series means to me. And in the same breath, you guys will never know how much your support truly means. Merry Christmas Eve Eve 2024 ya filthy animals.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Researchers say the average length of a dream is two to three minutes long. But many people experience their dreams as hours, days, or even years if they can remember them at all. 

The science of dreaming has been questioned for hundreds of years. Some hypothesise that dreams are our way of processing real events that occur when we’re awake. They also serve as an outlet for repressed hopes and desires. Neuroscientists introduce a new theory every few years. But honestly, no one knows why we dream. 

Or why we have nightmares. We just hope that after the dream, we wake up. 

“We’ve gone over all the risks, weighed up all the possible outcomes, dotted I’s and crossed T’s. Today is the day, Mrs. Seresin.” Doctor Morrison was hopeful in his consultation. The white coat-wearing man reassured you as he placed your chart back where it belonged. “How are you feeling?” 

The question went unanswered for a moment or two. You felt like you were in a state of shock. Unable to truly express how you felt just hours before going into what could be life-changing surgery. You were giving everyone in the room a thousand-yard stare. Mentally and physically, you had checked out. Like you’d been stuck in a nightmare that wouldn’t stop torturing you. 

“We had some bad news last night. A close friend passed away unexpectedly,” Jake answered on your behalf. “Is there any way–” 

“We need to do this now, Mr. Seresin, or we won’t be able to revisit this for a few months,” Dr. Morrison explained with an emphasis on the matter of now or never. “I understand personal circumstances may have changed. However, knowing everything you know about risk and recovery and survival rates after double mastectomies, I recommend we stick to the organised care plan.” 

“Can we have a moment alone?” Jake asked cautiously as his hand came to rest gently on your shoulder. You hadn’t moved from what could only be described as a catatonic-like state for the entire duration of the conversation. 

“Of course,” Dr. Morrison nodded. “I’ll come back after I’ve checked in on a few patients.” 

It didn’t take long at all for the oncology crew to exit the room. But the second they did, you felt like you could breathe again. 

“I can’t go through with this surgery Jake,” you begged. Fear of the unknown had taken over your entire being. “I can’t do this,” 

“You are the strongest person I know, honey, the kids and I really need you to do this.” Jake tried his best to comfort you as well as remind you why this surgery was so important. “We need you, yeah? We need you to stick around and this fucking cancer, this disease, is trying to cut that time short.” 

“But Jensen–” 

At the height of the Great Depression, Harvard scientists started tracking students in hopes of discovering the key to a long and happy life. They looked at participants’ mental and physical health over seventy-five years. It’s the longest study of happiness to date. Seventy-five years and all they did was confirm what we’ve known since the beginning of time. 

The most powerful predictor of health and happiness is the quality of our relationships. 

Strong relationships protect us. Loneliness on the other hand…can be deadly. 

“Would want you to keep fighting and have this surgery.” Jake could have said he thought Jensen was a coward. He could have said how angry he was at that fucker for leaving you alone in this world with no one to confide in who knew the struggle, who knew the feeling of being told you’re sick and need to get sicker in order to get better. 

Jake could have told you how he wished Jensen had survived so he could kill him himself. Jake could have responded with the fact Jensen was terminal and there was nothing on this earth that could have saved him from his illness. 

Jake could have told you that Jensen thought you hung the stars and the moon in the night sky every night just for him…but then Jake would also have to admit to himself and you that maybe, just maybe, you should have moved on. 

“What would he say right now if he was here?” Jake settled on that question just to keep himself sane. He didn’t want to open yet another can of worms right before your surgery. This was all one big giant nightmare already, he didn’t want to make it worse. If anything, Jake kept pinching himself in secret just hoping that maybe he’d wake up on the couch and this cancer saga would all be some sadistic subconscious dream of his. 

He’d always been deathly afraid of not being good enough for you. 

“He’d tell me to do it,” you sighed as you let your head rest against the upright bed. “He’d tell me to be strategic about the battle, the war is the endgame.” 

“Exactly, one battle at a time, step by step,” Jake agreed with a cheeky smile. That signature Seresin smile you so effortlessly loved. “You’re not gonna hand in the white flag before the battles even really begins, are you?” 

“Kinda want to if I’m being completely honest with you,” you responded knowing Jake would appreciate the honesty. “But I guess you and the kids really need me to stick around, huh?” 

“Oh, I can’t even begin to explain how much we need you to stick around, honeybee.” it was as honest and as sincere as Jake could be. He wore his heart on his sleeve for you. He exposed every nerve he had just so you could dance your feather-like fingers across the tender strings that made Jake, Jake. 

“I’m so scared of being alone in the operating room,” you admitted as Jake leaned in to leave a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I’m so scared they won’t see me as a person,” It was an explanation that broke Jake’s heart even though he believed his heart couldn’t be broken any more. “That they won’t remember I’m me, that I have a life and a family and people who will miss me.” 

Over the course of our lives, our relationships ebb and flow. We get together, break up, move away, or fall out of touch. It’s prolonged periods of loneliness and toxicity that wreak havoc on our health, our brain function, and our longevity. 

“You’re never alone,” Jake replied softly as tears threatened to spill over his waterline. “I’m always with you, the kids are always with you, Jensen, your mum, everyone will be with you during that surgery, we’re gonna be waiting on the other side.” 

“I love you so much, Jake Seresin,” you smiled brightly through a tight-lipped smile Jake wished he could save in his mind’s eye forever. “Let’s win this battle.” 

“And the war too,” Jake replied as he reached for your hand, gave it a soft squeeze, and brought your palm to his lips. “Let’s fucking do this, Y/n.” 

*************************************

Jake sat waiting by the vending machine as he picked at the small single service-sized packet of original Lays he’d nearly had to beg the machine to drop. His watch told him it was almost nearing the end of your surgery. He wasn't stressed, not when your surgeon had been so hopeful and calming. Jake had spent far too much of his time recently worrying about the what-ifs. He wanted to focus on the now. And that now was the fact you would have been nearing the end of your surgery. Which meant soon enough he’d get to see you again. 

The only thing that kept Jake on his toes was the ever-looming doubt that perhaps the treatment plan wouldn't be enough. He hoped that you had enough fight in you to make it through the journey. He needed you to have enough strength to fight. 

“She should be coming out of surgery soon–” Jake explained as he held his phone up to his ear and tried not to chew so loud. “The kids know that Rooster is picking them up to bring them home to Grandma Maz’s house?” 

“Yeah, Mum’s not too happy about it but she won't keal over about it,” Jasmine replied as she watched her brother's kids play with hers in the backyard she and Jake used to make mud pies in. “Rooster messaged about an hour ago saying he was close, he shouldn't be too far away now.” Jas continued in her own little world. Jake was used to not being able to get a word in with his youngest sister. “I can't believe Y/n has fucking cancer–does her side of the family have a history or…?” 

“Not that we know of, it's just really bad luck, Jas,” Jake sighed as he let his head fall back against the wall his chair was pressed up against. “But hopefully with this surgery and the chemo, she’ll be able to beat it.” 

“Well, you tell her that I’m pissed she gets a boob job before I do,” Jasmine tried her best to keep the situation as light-hearted as possible. “Make sure she gets a good rack, not too small or too big, like a good handful that's just right.” 

“I'll be sure to let her know,” Jake smiled, he really could count on his sister for that. “Oh, I gotta go, I see Y/n’s surgeon.” Jake sat up in anticipation as anxiety flooded his nervous system. “Tell the kids we love them for me.” 

“Have been every day,” Jasmine replied quickly knowing her brother probably had his phone down from his ear by now. “Bye.” 

Jake was quick to pocket his phone and wipe the crumbs from his shirt as he stood to greet your surgeon. However, something seemed off about the man who had seemed so confident before your surgery. 

“Mr. Seresin–” 

“How is she?” Jake asked. He didn't mean to interrupt, but he needed to know first and foremost before any medical mumbo jumbo. “My wife, how’d the surgery go?” 

There was a very telling pause that accompanied the sober look that Doctor Morrison wore, but Jake tried not to read into it all that much. He knew you would be fine. 

Right? 

“Mr Seresin, your wife's heart was weakened by the stress of her recent stroke,” Doctor Morrison began to explain as Jake stood there expecting good news. “She, unfortunately, went into a cardiac arrest–” the air around Jake disappeared. Almost instantly, he felt as if he were floating in space. “We tried to revive her for the better half of twenty minutes while she was on the table,” There was a pause. A telling moment where reality and fantasy were trying to battle it out. Who’s version of events would win? When Doctor Morrison saw Jake’s mind short-circling with an inability to process the magnitude of information, he felt as if he needed to continue explaining the severity of the situation. 

“It was catastrophic, and I'm afraid we've lost her.” Doctor Morrison had told far too many loved ones over the years that they had lost family members, but never in all his years had he ever seen such immediate denial written in the lines on someone's face. “Mr. Seresin, your wife has died.” The words Doctor Morrison was saying were not sinking in as Jake stood there completely blind to the reality happening around him. “I’m so sorry for your loss–” 

“Uh–” Jake frowned as the confusion kicked in. “I'm sorry, you must have mistaken me for someone else. My wife was fine before she went in for surgery, she was fine.” 

“Yes, yes, your wife was fine, yes–” Doctor Morrison tried to keep his composure, but even after all these years the losses still hurt. It made him feel human to experience the emotions alongside the family members, but in the first few seconds of watching Jake Seresin spiral into a hole of denial that you were, in fact, gone, Doctor Morrison, knew this particular loss would haunt him for the rest of his career. 

Speaking slowly, Doctor Morisson tried once more to explain what had happened in a way that Jake would understand. “The stress of the surgery along with her recent stroke…her body just couldn't handle the stress. Her heart experienced a cardiac episode and we unfortunately couldn’t revive her.” 

The immediate silence between the two men was all-consuming as it was telling. Jake’s heart was breaking in two. 

“Is there someone I can call for you?” Doctor Morrison tried to be as empathetic as he could be, this part of the job was never easy. The part where he was tasked with telling loved ones that the people they loved had passed on his table. They were few and far between, but the people he did lose would forever haunt him. He could name every single one and their family’s name too. Jake Seresin would be a name Doctor Morrison would remember for the rest of his life and into the next. 

“Are you out of your mind?” Jake pushed back almost immediately as he tried to wrap his head around what he was being told. This didn’t make any sense, you were just here. You were fine. 

“No, Mr. Seresin I–” Doctor Morrison tried to explain again, but it was to no avail.

“I–Okay, I think you must be mistaken,” Jake wiped his hand on his jeans as he stepped back. “I just need to ge–”

“Mr. Seresin, please.” Doctor Morrison tried to stop Jake from leaving the waiting area, but Jake just stepped further back with a frown of disgust and grief. He was still holding his packet of Lays. 

“No, no can you just, can you back up?” Jake nearly growled. “Can you leave me alone?” Jake looked around as he tried to remember how to breathe. People were staring at him like he was in a zoo. A caged and cornered animal begging to be left alone. “Can somebody get this person to just give me some space please?” It was as heartbreaking as it was cruel to watch Jake walk down the hall towards where he knew your hospital room was. 

“Y/n?” He called out hoping you'd be back by now. “You won’t believe this guy, honey. He just–” The moment Jake rounded the corner and saw your hospital room empty with no sign of you, he stood still. All the air had been sucked right from his lungs as his eyes scanned the room. Your Christmas lights weren’t flashing, your bed wasn't made, and your laptop sat open with a black screen, but just where you’d left it. You weren't back. 

“Y/n?” Jake whispered under his breath as his eyes continued to scan the empty hospital room just waiting for you to appear from out of the bathroom or sneak up behind him. But Jake knew you weren't about to appear even though he wished for nothing more. 

“Oh–” One step, two steps, three steps, four. Jake didn't know where he was but he was on the move. He couldn't stay here looking at an empty room. He had to find where you were. “Oh god, no, no no no no no, please no don’t take her away from me.” 

“Jake!” The woman's voice Jake had come to know over the last few days broke through the fog that was clouding Jake's mind. He continued to stumble blindly down the ward. “I just heard,” Lydia explained as she rushed up to the man who she had come to know as your husband. “I'm so sorry, I wasn't expecting this to happen. I thought–” Lydia quickly reacted when Jake's knees buckled underneath him. 

“Woah! I need a little help over here!” Doctor Morrison was quick on the draw as he made his way over to where Jake now kneeled on the floor unable to breathe. 

“My wife–” Jake tried to talk as he hyperventilated. “Y/n!” he cried out for all to hear. “Y/N!” 

“She's gone.” Doctor Morrison had to make sure the fact was sinking in. 

“Oh Jake, I’m so sorry–” Lydia tried to console the six-foot-something man who had crumbled to his knees. “Your wife was an amazing woman.” 

Jake still couldn't believe it, he didn't believe it, and he wouldn't. The pain he felt inside his chest, the burning hot sensation was excruciating. He’d never felt such a feeling of grief mixed with denial and so much love. You couldn’t be gone. He was having a nightmare, wasn’t he? This wasn't real. He was dreaming. This was all one big dream. It had to be. It had to be a nightmare his subconscious had concocted. A nightmare where Jake lost it all. His biggest fears were realised. 

“I need my wife, I need Y/n,” Jake sobbed as Lydia kneeled on the ground in front of him just assessing his current state of shock. “I can't, she can't–no no no she's fine, please tell me she's fine.” 

“I'm so sorry, Jake,” Lydia confirmed what Jake wished so desperately wasn’t true. “She’s gone,” Lydia’s voice became distorted as she held the broken man in her arms. “You need to wake up before it's too late.” 

************************

Bradley Bradshaw was accustomed to losing the people he loved the most in this world. He’d lost his father, his mother, and his grandparents. For a while there he’d lost the only man who had ever slightly filled the shoes his dad left behind. But the loss of someone who was still there was something he’d never had to handle before. 

“Nat, he hasn’t gotten out of bed in days,” Bradley groaned as he cleaned up the kitchen. “The kids already lost their mother,” Bradley tried his best to keep his voice down, but the way little Lennox clocked Bradley from where he was sitting at the dining table made him realise he wasn’t one to talk on the quiet side. “They don’t need to lose their dad too.”

Jake stood just outside of Bradley’s eyeline, but he could hear everything the giant overgrown bird was saying. He couldn’t hear what Phoenix was saying but there was enough back and forth on Bradley’s behalf to easily fill in the gaps. 

“No. No, he hasn’t been down since the funeral.” Jake forgot how to exhale at the mere mention of your funeral as he hid in the hall. He couldn’t remember ever getting ready or speaking at your wake. He couldn’t remember who drove them or if the kids cried. He couldn’t remember hugging your mother or shaking your brother’s hand. Jake couldn’t remember any details about the flowers he’d organised or the people who were there. 

The anti-depressants weren’t helping. Nothing was. Nothing would. 

Until today, Jake couldn’t bring himself to get out of bed. Without you, there was no point. He was begrudgingly okay with living a life in a world where you were still in it. But living in a world where you were no longer present wasn’t something Jake was willing to do. The kids would be fine with their grandparents. They’d be fine with Uncle Rooster. Lennox and Lucy and little Sammy didn’t need him. How was he supposed to look into their eyes and know he could never see the twinkle in yours ever again? 

“I’m really worried about him, Nat,” Rooster sighed as he held his phone up to his ear with his shoulder. He was working on making little Samy some banana pancakes. “As much as I want to, I can’t stay here forever, but he needs someone.” 

“No one is asking you to babysit me, Bradshaw,” Jake replied to the statement Bradley wasn’t expecting an answer to. “You can leave, trust me, I can drop the kids off with my mum.” 

Bradley stood stunned into silence as he watched Jake round the corner and into vision. He reluctantly reached for his phone and hung up as Phoenix questioned what was going on. 

“Hey man,” Rooster finally broke the silence as he watched Jake walk closer and closer to where Sammy sat in his high chair. “How you feeling today?” 

“Well, my wife’s still dead, so that’s something,” Jake replied with a sigh as he picked up Sammy and placed him on his lap. Lennox could see the look of pure admiration in his younger brother’s eyes as Jake hugged the smallest of the Seresin kids. “Seriously, you’ve done enough for us, I got it from here.” It was the biggest lie Jake had ever tried to tell not only himself but his best friend. 

“Uh,” Bradley wasn’t convinced. “Are you sure? I mean–I wanna stay as long as you need man,” Bradley tried to plead his case as Jake went about his business with Sammy. The business being nothing. Jake stood somewhat dazed and lost in the middle of the clean-ish kitchen. A kitchen he knew where nothing was. It wasn’t his. It was yours. 

“I think the kids should come back to North Island with me,” Jake opted to ignore what Bradley was saying. Instead, he decided to continue with a vague plan for what the future holds. A future he didn’t want to have with you. A future he didn’t care about. 

“You want the kids to uproot everything they know?” Rooster frowned as he looked over to where Lenny sat watching on. The kids were down, to say the least. Bradley could recognise himself in the permanent pout that had taken shape across Lennox’s face. The puffy eyes and saddened expression really tied the whole look of mourning together. They were just kids, they didn’t deserve any of this. “I don’t think you should be thinking about coming back to work anything soon either.” 

“I don’t need you micromanaging me,” Jake hissed as he held onto his youngest son, all the while his eldest watched on with concern for his dad. “I need you to go home, Rooster, we’ve got it from here.” 

“You don’t got anything, Seresin. Are you kidding me right now?” Bradley didn’t mean to come across as so defensive. But he’d seen Jake in this grief-fueled spiral long enough to know that his destructive and depressive mindset would end up causing more distress for the kids than intended. Jake was a good dad, that had never been questioned. Until now… Bradley wasn’t sure if his best friend could handle parenting three small children without a village to back him up. “The kids haven’t seen you in days–” 

“Would you rather them see me at my worst or not see me at all?” Jake’s grief was eating away at him. So much so that Jake began to wish each time he closed his eyes he’d get to stay with the version of you his mind had envisioned. “I’m fine, I’ve got it from here,” Jake sighed as he hugged little Sammy with all the strength that he had. “I wasn’t, but I’m fine now and I just wanna spend time with the kids.” 

“I don’t believe a word you’re saying right now man,” Bradley replied as he caught sight of Lucy coming down the hall. She’d been sleeping much like her father was. Great, all three Seresin children were present for their father’s impending breakdown. 

“Get the fuck out of my house, Bradshaw.” This hadn’t been the first confrontation Jake and Bradley had gotten into while Bradley had been staying in Rhode Island as the Seresin kid’s personal live-in nanny. And it certainly wouldn’t be the last. It was becoming an almost everyday occurrence. The only difference this time was the kids were here to witness it. “I don’t need you here–”

“You aren’t thinking straight, just–how about the kids and I go for a walk or something and you sort yourself out? Have a shower? Shave? Drink something other than alcohol for–” Before Rooster could finish his sentence, Jake was placing Sam on the kitchen floor with a haste that didn’t sit right with Rooster. Lennox was the first to move from his chair. He was the spitting image of his father. 

“I don’t fucking care, Rooster!” Jake shouted at the top of his lungs. So loud and with such rage that the veins in his neck were popping as his skin turned a nice shade of ruby red. He took fast strides across the kitchen until Jake was standing toe to toe with his best friend. The very friend who’d been taking care of his children since before your passing. “I have to live the rest of my fucking live without the woman I love, so, cut me some godman slack before I knock your smug ass head from your shoulders.” 

Bradley didn’t move. He didn’t retaliate. He watched over Jake’s shoulder how his three children all cowered on the kitchen floor, scared of how their father yelled. Jake was oblivious to his surroundings. He couldn’t see the kids were struggling too. 

“Jake?” Bradley sighed as he placed his hands on either side of Jake’s face. “When the fuck are you gonna get through all this?” Braley asked softly as he remained calm. “When are you gonna wake up?” 

“Wake up?” Jake repeated as he pulled his face from his best friend's grip. “Wake up? Bradshaw, I died with my wife! There is no waking up from any of this!” 

“Maybe–” Bradley shrugged as he walked over to where the kids had been huddled together. It was only as Jake followed Bradley’s trajectory that he realised how much he’d scared his children. Something he never wanted to do. “There's always hope though.” 

“Kids,” Jake sighed as his tears began to fall. He dropped to his knees right then and there in the kitchen he wasn't familiar with. In a house that was now cold and dark without your constant radiating light to keep it warm and bright. “Guys, I'm sorry, huh–Dad didn't mean to raise his voice, he’s just–” Before Jake could finish his sentence, little Lennox was finishing his father’s sentence for him. 

“You’re just sick, dad.” 

“What?” Jake frowned as the kids made their way over to where Jake was kneeling on the tiles. 

“I said you’re just sad, Dad,” Lennox replied once more as he gave his dad a hug. “We’ll take care of you.” 

************************

December 31st 

Jake Seresin tried his best to hide the wet tears that fell down his cheeks as he sat with his kids on the lounge of the home that he had tried his best to keep as tidy as he could. There was a lot of uncertainty, a lot of frustration, a lot of fear and unbelievable sadness that surrounded Jake and your three small children. The unknown was truly tragic, terrifying and treacherous, but Jake wasn’t about to let his kids see the way he so desperately wanted to cry. 

Things had changed since Jake fell mind, body and soul into an unimaginably deep hole of depression. So much so that days had become to feel like one long dream. A paradox of grief and manic love. Your mother had told Jake to feel every ounce of emotion he had locked away. Maz had told him that grief was just someone’s residual love with nowhere else to go. 

Once Jake was able to understand that the pain of losing you was his love for you, he understood why it hurt so deeply on a cellular level. He understood why it hurt to look at the children he’d created with you. He understood why the kids had wanted to sit and open the small, still-wrapped Christmas present Lenny had found in Jake’s bag when he was looking for his dad’s wallet. 

Because it was one of the last things you ever gifted someone. It was one of your last acts on earth. 

“What did Mum get you for Christmas, Daddy?” Jake held the small present in the palm of his hand, the present he had yet to open. The present he wasn’t sure he wanted to. It felt like something he’d held before, the weight felt all too familiar. It haunted him the more he carried it around, held it in the palm of his hand and contemplated the inevitable. 

“I dunno buddy, you reckon I should open it?” Jake asked as he kissed his son's head. “S’not Christmas anymore.” The Naval Aviator had recently shaved his head, it had been the closest to a number one he’d ever had. It was in solidarity, union. A decision he made in the blink of an eye but one he did not regent or ever would. 

“We haven’t taken the tree down yet,” Lucy added her two cents into the conversation as she laid her head on her father’s thigh. “Mum would be upset if you didn’t open it, Dad.” Jake knew that much was true, you probably would be pretty bent out of shape if he never opened it. 

“Alright, I’d better open it then huh?” Jake shook the small perfectly wrapped box he could hold in the palm of his hand. He heard what sounded like a rock rattle inside. His heart nearly exploded inside his chest. 

Fuck….Jake knew what it was and he really didn’t want to open it. 

“Hey, Dad?” Lucy’s voice sounded completely different to anything Jake had ever heard before. She was looking right at him yet her eyes were trained on something one hundred miles away. 

“Yeah, sweetheart?” Jake replied just as he was about to open the present you’d given him before his life was turned upside down. 

“You need to wake up now,” Lucy’s voice sounded familiar, but it wasn’t her own. “You’ve had enough time here,” 

“What are you talking about Lu?” Jake frowned as he looked at his daughter. An extension of himself and you. “Lucy? Are you feeling okay?” 

“You’ll be a good dad soon,” Lucy smiled as she unwrapped the small ring box in Jake’s hand. The ring box that held what Jake assumed to be your engagement ring. But as little Lucy opened the wrapping, a blinding light burst through the cracks. A light so bright it forced Jake to squint. 

“Please wake up, honey,” Jake heard your voice clear as day as Lucy opened the ring box to send a piercing white light into the living room. Jake was completely captured by the light around him. So much so the entire room was drowned in a light so pure it was crystal clear. He couldn’t see a single thing beyond the all-encompassing white. 

“Please wake up for us,” again your voice was the only thing Jake could hear in the void he found himself in. 

“Y/n?” Jake called out into the void around him. He could feel his ribcage breaking like he couldn't breathe. Every breath he took was agony. “Hello?” Yet he could hear your voice. A voice he longed for. A voice he had to get back to. Jake had to get to you. 

“I’m here, you’re alright,” Jake once again heard your angelic siren song. His head began to throb. The feeling was agonising. Like there was no more room for swelling. 

“Where are you?” Jake called out as he stumbled in the light. The smell of burning flesh mixed with jet fuel overcame Jake’s senses. His need to get to you was more powerful than the deep bone ache he could feel in his legs. There was nothing on earth or beyond that would stop Jake from getting to wherever the hell you were calling him from. His entire body ached with a pain so unimaginable it sent him to his knees. Crawling, Jake cried out for you just one more time. 

“Y/n!?” Jake called out once more in a desperate attempt to find you in the void. “Kids?” 

“Here he comes,” Bradley’s voice echoed out as Jake looked up towards where he assumed the sky would be. The glare was too much. Jake placed his forearms over his forehead to soften the brightness. “Come on Hangman, don't leave us out to dry.” 

Some people spend their whole lives trying to make a dream come true. They set a goal and make a plan on how to achieve it. It works for some people. But for others, it’s not so easy. As hard as they work toward the dream, it can feel like the whole world has plotted against them. 

As someone gets further and further away from the dream, people begin to cling to any sign of hope. And the longer it takes and the more it costs…you start to consider whether you should give up. Do you find a new dream? Or do you stick to the one that started you on this journey in the first place? 

For Jake, things weren’t as black and white. 

As Jake closed his eyes and took one painful last breath in, he felt as if he’d fallen from cloud nine. When he opened his eyes, the light was still there….But he wasn’t.

Jake’s eyelids fluttered, the faintest hint of light creeping through the haze of his mind. He tried to move, but his body felt foreign as if it wasn’t entirely his own. The weight of unconsciousness clung to him, reluctant to release its hold. Slowly, he became aware of the sounds around him—

“Jake, It’s me, can you hear me?”

**********************

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream

@maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional

@jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog

@a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination

@the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb @kmc1989 @avengersgirllorianna

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Accident

David Howard Thornton x Y/N - drabble - 853 WC

Masterlist

Warnings: reader gets hurt on accident, actor reader, hospital, guilt, apologies, pretty fluffy tbh just watch out for the beginning because its Terrifier so ya know.... gore - ALSO, L/N just means last name

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

You struggled against the sadistic clown above you. Blood covered you head to toe, your arms felt weak as you pushed against Art’s arms. He pressed the blade further, his strength outmatching yours. You begrudgingly grabbed the blade itself, blood dripping from your hands.You screamed as you felt the knife starting to press into your shoulder, the clown above laughing silently at your pain. The further the knife pressed the more you screamed, kicking and twisting underneath him to no avail as he straddled you. 

“Stop!” you said, your voice hoarse from screaming. Your hands finally slipped the knife through as your blood made it too slippery to hold. The knife plunged into your shoulder and you let out a real, gut wrenching scream.

“CUT!” yelled Damien as he rushed over to you.

You rolled to your side clutching your arm as you sobbed.

“Somebody fucking page medical now! Call 911!” Damien yelled, his hands hovering around you; wanting to help but not knowing how.

David jumped off you, sitting in shock next to you. He didn’t know what to do, he was absolutely shocked. That knife was supposed to be a prop knife but it was hard to distinguish between them, it was the prop masters job to make sure the real knives for show never got mixed up between real and fake. David watched as the puddle of real blood emanated from your shoulder. This horrible pit in his stomach formed and he felt absolutely awful. He snapped out of it when you stopped moving and your eyes fluttered closed. He tossed the knife away, moving to you quickly to check your pulse. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt it. Strong but fast.

“They probably passed out from the pain…” Damien said as he held pressure around your wound, keeping the knife in place.

Medical arrived and took over before the EMT’s loaded you up on a stretcher and took you to the ambulance.

“What hospital?” David asked as they started an IV and put an oxygen mask over your mouth and nose.

“Lenox Hill, we gotta go.” said the EMT before slamming the doors shut. The sirens turned on and before he knew it you were gone.

Set was eerily quiet, “I… I didn’t… It was an accident…” David stuttered. He could see the sympathy on everyone's faces.

Damien clapped his hand on David’s shoulder, “I know. Go get cleaned up and go to the hospital. Were done for the day. I’ll look into it all, trust me, somebody's getting fired.”

David nodded sullenly. Hair and makeup was a quick removal, they moved especially quick knowing David would want to get to you ASAP. He took the ferry from Staten Island to Manhattan, the 25 minute ride having him nauseous at the thought of how much pain you were in. As soon as the ferry docked he pushed through the crowds and rushed towards the hospital. The receptionist could see his worried face.

“Y/N L/N they were brought in by ambulance,” he said quickly. 

“Fourth floor room 831, they’re in recovery. What is your relation to them, it’s only family visiting hours right now.” said the receptionist.

“Husband.” he said without hesitation.

“Alright, go on up. Elevators are around the corner.” she said, pointing.

David nodded before walking over and repeatedly pressing the elevator button. As soon as he arrived at your room he pushed his way in.

Your bright face smiled at him, you looked a little sleepy but that was all. “Hi baby.”

David stood in shock for a moment before shutting the door and walking over to the bed. “Honey I’m… I’m so sorry.” he said, his voice watery.

You held his face in your hands, “It was an accident. It was blunt enough that it only cut my muscle a tad, three inches deep, nothing more. No arteries or bones. Ten stitches and some pain killers and I’m good as new.” you moved your gown off your shoulder slightly, it was wrapped up but you just wanted to show him to show you were ok. 

“I’m so sorry.” he whispered, his hand coming to rest on top of yours.

“Think Damien will put that shot in the movie?” you asked with complete seriousness.

David laughed before kissing your hand. “I bet if you ask he will. That scream was something else.” 

You smiled, “I hope so. They said I can return to shooting in a few days, just have to take it easy. They’re getting my discharge paperwork ready as we speak.” 

“My perfect little scream queen. So dedicated.” he joked. 

You rolled your eyes before bringing him up to your face for a sweet kiss. You could feel how sorry he was. You kissed him over and over again sweetly.

“We should stop before your heart monitor alerts the nurses.” he said, both of you listening to the quickened beeping. 

You both laughed, your cheeks tinted with an embarrassed blush. He kissed over your neck a few times, making heat drip over your most sensitive areas. “Later.” he smiled deviously.

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

Naboo's Note:

Hello! I hope ya'll like the new addition of our favorite boy who plays our favorite clown! Idk how to really write for Art so send in a request if you have an idea, I'd appreciate it! I feel like David is so underwritten for fanfics so I might pump out a few more for him in the near future. Thank you for all the love and support! XOXOXOXOXOX!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[pascaloverx]

HAUNTED

Summary: You awaken from a two-year coma to find that Detective Lois has been eagerly awaiting your recovery, believing you might have witnessed something crucial to catching a serial killer. What you didn’t expect is to learn that she suspects your doctor of being the murderer—and even more shockingly, it appears that you are married to him. Now, you must uncover your lost memories and find out who Charlie Mayhew truly is to you.

Author's Note: Yes, I'm writing another fanfic featuring Nicholas Alexander Chavez’s character from Grotesquerie. The characters belong to the universe created by Ryan Murphy in the series Grotesquerie (2024). This fanfic will include violence, strong language, and adult content. It will portray the character Charlie Mayhew as a doctor. I hope you enjoy the fanfic, but there's nothing certain about its future. If you like this fanfic, please interact, leave comments. This author will be grateful for any interaction.

ONE THREE

© credits for the owners of the pictures used. they don't belong to me. credit is not mine for the pictures.

TWO

You were finally discharged from the hospital after nearly a week of being poked, prodded, and thoroughly examined. However, your husband seemed displeased with the last conversation you shared. He hadn’t returned to visit you, leaving an unsettling emptiness in your chest. Even in your dreams, the striking face of your husband was absent. The fictional priest, your recurring specter, no longer graced you with his haunting visits. Detective Lois came to see you twice. The first time, you welcomed her, but when she began disparaging your husband, you quickly lost interest in continuing the conversation. The second time, you thought it best to turn her away before Dr. Mayhew discovered she had been there.

Now you are packing your clothes to return home—clothes you do not recall buying or ever wearing before. A house that does not feel like a home, for you have no memory of it. Whether you like it or not, Dr. Mayhew is the only semblance of familiarity you have. Yet, he seems to have lost interest in you. He is probably ready to file for divorce and pursue his happily ever after with the detective with whom he may or may not have had an affair.

"Mrs. Mayhew, are you ready to go home?" a strange man asks as he stands in the doorway. He is wearing a suit, and from the formal way he speaks to you, you assume he is not a relative of yours.

"I'm sorry, but I have no idea who you are. Actually, I'm waiting for my husband." You say, holding your suitcase while sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. The man seems to be preparing to say something that will hurt you. "Mrs. Mayhew, I’m your husband's driver. He can’t pick you up; he had an urgent commitment." He says, adjusting his suit, almost as if he’s embarrassed by the news. He seems to feel pity for you. For some reason, the fact that your husband is avoiding you irritates you.

"In that case, let's go." You say, a bit downcast but holding onto your suitcase tightly, trying not to let your anger show. You know there will be a moment when you'll give your husband a lesson—he's the one who deserves to hear your complaints.

"Follow me, I'll take you to the car and we'll head to your house soon," the driver says, raising his arm for you to hold onto as you make your way to the hospital exit. You try to keep up the appearance of being fine, smiling as you say goodbye to the hospital staff while being accompanied by your husband’s driver, Ed. As he drives you home, he starts talking about his life. He tells you how you had recommended him for the job as a personal driver. You learn that you used to give him art lessons and suggested him to your husband. The information leaves you more confused. You have the impression that you were wealthy, given the fancy clothes you wear and the fact that you have a private driver, but it seems you were also teaching art. This leaves you wondering about the life you used to lead in your own home.

When you arrive at the house, it’s almost everything you imagined. It’s large, not a mansion, but it has two floors, a garden, and a pool. Ed helps you out of the car and guides you on where to place your luggage, leading you toward the entrance of the house.

"On the first floor, you’ll find the kitchen, living room, laundry, and a guest bedroom. There’s also a dining room, but it’s only used for special occasions. On the second floor, there’s the master suite and the boss’s office. If you’d like, I can take you there," Ed says politely, though you sense that you need to spend some time getting familiar with your home and you don't want to bother Ed with your demands.

"There’s no need to trouble yourself, Ed. You’re free to go, and thank you for taking the time to pick me up from the hospital," you say graciously.

"It was my pleasure to assist you. If you need anything, I'll be just outside," Ed says before leaving you alone. For a moment, you find yourself captivated, taking in the details of the first floor of your home. As you admire the kitchen, a sudden noise from the upper floor catches your attention.

You freeze, startled by the unexpected noise. You were certain you were alone in the house, but now it seems you might have company. The thought races through your mind—it could be a burglar or perhaps one of your husband's mistresses waiting for his return, especially since you're convinced he's not home. Uncertain of your next move, you consider calling for Ed, but that might alert whoever is upstairs. Resolute, you grab a knife from the kitchen, gripping it tightly as you ascend the stairs, steeling yourself to confront whoever dares to intrude, the sound of water running hinting at someone taking a bath above.

You step into the master suite, your eyes scanning the space. Scattered across the bed are some of your husband's clothes, as though he had been deciding what to wear. Framed photos of the two of you together adorn the room, alongside other items that affirm this as the bedroom of a married couple. However, investigating the nuances of your marital life is not why you climbed the unnecessarily numerous stairs. Silently, you make your way to the bathroom, drawn by the muffled sounds coming from within the shower, mingling with the steady cascade of water. Your heart pounds as you realize—there's definitely a man in there, taking a shower. You grip the knife tightly in your hands and gather your courage to open the shower curtain.

Your husband stands before you, utterly exposed, his body glistening with water and lightly lathered with soap, one hand still gripping his cock mid-motion. "What the hell, Y/N?" Doctor Mayhew exclaims, his voice laced with shock and alarm.

Frozen for a moment, you struggle to process the scene, your grip tightening around the knife in your hand. Heat rises to your face, and without thinking further, you turn on your heel abruptly, your embarrassment overwhelming. "I— I didn’t know it was you," you stammer, your voice shaky as you try to compose yourself, your back still turned to him.

"Did it ever occur to you to ask?" your husband snaps, his voice sharp with irritation. You're unsure if his anger stems from being caught in such a vulnerable state or from having his private moment interrupted.

"It didn’t cross my mind," you retort, doing your best to maintain your composure despite the vivid image of his naked form lingering in your thoughts. "Especially since I assumed a man too busy to fetch his own wife from the hospital wouldn’t be occupied... pleasuring himself in the shower." Your tone is steady, but there's a slight edge to your words, masking your own embarrassment.

"I thought you'd prefer to return with someone you didn't consider a cold-blooded, adulterous murderer," Doctor Mayhew says, his tone laced with dry humor as he continues his shower. "Had I known you cared about my presence, I would have been there. And as for giving myself pleasure, despite the belief that I've had a torrid affair with another woman, my fidelity to you is so absolute that my only mistress is my hand." He chuckles softly, the sound almost mocking, while you remain rooted in place, still stunned and unable to respond or even move.

"If you'd cared enough to visit me after our last meeting, you would have known that I did want you there to bring me home," you say, your voice tinged with hurt. The air grows heavy for a moment, the tension palpable, until the sound of the running water comes to an abrupt stop.

"I was there every day," Doctor Mayhew replies, his tone soft yet steady. "But only while you were asleep. I didn’t want to trouble you. Your doctors told me you were improving, and I thought my presence might upset you." He steps out of the shower, the sound of his movements drawing closer to you. You can feel his breath against your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. Before you can respond, his arms encircle yours, gently but firmly taking the knife from your grip. He places it on the bathroom counter, the action deliberate yet tender.

You turn, now standing face-to-face with your husband, Doctor Mayhew. A towel is loosely wrapped around his waist, droplets of water still trailing down his skin. "I wanted you there," you murmur, your voice barely audible, the words almost brushing against his lips. His face is dangerously close to yours, his presence overwhelming.

"I'm sorry, mi amor. I should have brought you home," he says, his voice low and full of regret as he steps even closer. Your eyes instinctively fall to his lips before locking onto his gaze. A heat rises within you, an undeniable pull—an ache to claim what is already yours.

And as if driven by instinct, you rise on your toes and press your lips to his in a tentative kiss, barely a whisper of contact, as though testing the waters. The taste of him is intoxicating—something that feels like it should be savored again and again. It’s overwhelming, addictive, his soft lips brushing against yours as your heart seems to stop for a fleeting moment. But caution wins, and you pull back, breath hitching as you study him. His eyes remain closed for a moment longer, his fingers brushing over his lips as though to confirm the reality of what just transpired. Slowly, his eyes open, smoldering with an intensity that takes your breath away.

"You shouldn’t have done that," Doctor Mayhew murmurs, his voice a low growl. Before you can respond, his arms snake around your waist, lifting you effortlessly as he crashes his lips into yours with fervor. The kiss is fire itself—searing and unrelenting, as though he wants to consume you entirely, pulling you closer, desperate for more of you with each passing second.

And it’s as if something ignites within you, a spark that feels as though you’ve always belonged to him. “Charlie…” you murmur between his kisses, your breaths coming in short gasps as you try to steady yourself.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes wide with surprise, though a glimmer of adoration softens his features. “That’s the first time you’ve called me Charlie since you woke up,” he whispers, his voice almost reverent against your lips.

You respond with a tender peck, letting yourself sink into the safety of his arms. “I wish I could remember you. I hope you know that,” you confess, gazing into his eyes. It’s the most honest thing you’ve said since you regained consciousness, and the raw sincerity in your voice hangs between you like a fragile thread of hope.

"I don’t care that you’ve forgotten me. I only want you to allow yourself to get to know me again," Charlie says softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.

"Do you think having sex would help me remember you?" The question escapes your lips before you can even process it, the desire that’s been simmering since you saw him moments ago suddenly rising to the surface.

Charlie freezes, his lips lingering near your skin as his breath hitches. His gaze locks onto yours, a mix of surprise and amusement flickering in his eyes. "I thought I was the doctor here," Charlie murmurs, a faint smirk curving his lips as his eyes search yours. The teasing tone in his voice doesn’t mask the tension building between you.

He takes a step closer, his hands gently finding your waist, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "But if that’s your hypothesis..." his voice drops, low and intoxicating, "I’d be more than willing to help you test it." The heat in his gaze is undeniable, yet there’s a tenderness there, as though he’s waiting for your permission to cross the line you just hinted at.

The sound of a phone ringing breaks the moment, echoing from the direction of the bedroom. Charlie seems momentarily hesitant, glancing toward the source of the noise before he gives in and walks over to answer it. His voice lowers, the words indistinct as he speaks in murmurs, clearly trying to keep the conversation private. You stand there, feeling a shift in the atmosphere as his attention moves elsewhere. When he returns, there's a visible change in his demeanor, a hint of disappointment in his eyes. "Unfortunately, we can't test your hypothesis right now," he says, his tone a little colder than before. He plants a soft kiss on your lips before continuing, trying to lighten the mood. "I have a patient in need of urgent assistance."

Charlie leans in to give you a quick kiss on the lips, a fleeting gesture to maintain some connection despite the shift in mood. "But you’re welcome to stay here, take a relaxing bath, and explore the house. The only room that’s locked is my office, but the rest is open. You’ve met Ed, our driver. Mary, the housekeeper, is here as well, though you haven’t met her yet. If you’re hungry, all the takeout numbers are by the phone," he says before turning to finish getting ready.

As he finishes getting dressed, you can sense something unspoken hanging in the air between you, his demeanor colder now. "And, if you want to pick up where we left off later... just let me know," he adds, his words lingering in the space between you, leaving the invitation open yet uncertain. He pauses, studying you for a moment longer than necessary before turning to finish his preparations, the unspoken tension between you both hanging in the air.

"I think I'll take a bath and get acquainted with the house, but I'd like to have dinner with you," you say as you watch him finish getting dressed for work, struggling with the knot of his tie. You step forward, as if you're naturally accustomed to this, and expertly tie the knot for him—firm and neat. He smiles, genuinely appreciative.

"It seems like you still remember how to make a perfect tie knot," he comments, then takes your hands in his and presses a gentle kiss to your fingers. "I'll be here for dinner," he assures you before grabbing his briefcase and lab coat, rushing out the door. You're certainly charmed by your husband, but there's a growing sense of unease, too. Why would he be so secretive about his calls and office if he has nothing to hide?