#i mean some of the situations they go through make me feel like my bones are being boiled but still

[wildflowercryptid]

iwakura mitsumi, you're absolutely brimming with autism and i love you dearly....

[keeps-ache]

i may be be wanting in physical prowess. but with the weight of 50000 wips i can defeat anyone who dares challenge me!!

[tender-rosiey]

pretty babies – gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: idk about yall but I love me some drunk gojo

satoru never drinks, but when he does, ohoho, you’re in for quite the ride.

today was one of the days when he was less of a chaotic handful but more of an emotional mess who apparently can’t even remember his own wife. you sip on your drink, ignoring the drunk satoru leaning on the bar.

he slurs his words as he tries to flirt, “you’re sooo pretty, y’know that?”

you nod with a hum and give him no further reaction. in situations like these, you figured out that letting him go all out until he is tired and sleepy is the best solution. it really is like treating a baby.

thankfully, after many years of being in the presence of one gojo satoru, you’ve built up some patience.

he rests his head on the counter and he looks up at you, eyes wide and in awe, “I bet,” he hiccups and it is followed by a silly little giggle, “we’d make superrrr cute babies! like all round and chubby and we’d much on their cheeks like…mochi! yes! mochi…now I am hungry.”

a smirk makes an appearance on your face as you glance at satoru who is blabbering about building a family with you and spoiling you rotten.

a little teasing won’t harm anyone. so you quip, “you know,” and his attention is already on you, “you already gave me three super cute babies.”

his mouth is wide open in disbelief as he sits up, “no way!”

“yup! and they’re waiting at home for us.”

his eyes crinkle because of his wide grin, “really?!” he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, “you got photos?! please tell me that you do!” and he switches to a pout so quickly, it gives you whiplash.

however, you gladly pull out your phone and show him the multitude of photos you have.

ones ranging from him being in a crib to help the youngest one sleep to ones with two of the three kids ganging up on him and him desperately calling for your help. satoru goes through every single photo, head on your shoulder and cheek squished.

he is silent throughout it all and when he is done, he looks up at you, “so that means that you’re my wife?”

you nod and your fingers, naturally, find their place on his head. he feels a little shiver of satisfaction before he smiles, one lovesick and silly smile, “I really hit the jackpot.”

you laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, “I guess you did.”

so you take him back home where the kids are already asleep. satoru crashes on the bed right away, steady breaths filling the room. slowly, you take your place beside him and you feel his arms wrap around you.

he pulls you closer and buries his face in your hair. and you close your eyes, letting yourself be lulled to the land of dreams.

when you do wake up, you’re greeted by satoru literally on top of you and deep in sleep. you would like to let him sleep more especially since he looks so comfortable, but you’re going to suffocate at this rate. so you pat his back lightly, “satoru, honey, wake up.”

he groans and buries his face in the crook of your neck, grumbling something along the lines of ‘five more minutes’.

not budging? then fine, you decide. you take as deep of a breath as you can then call for your kids, “who will help mama?!”

it’s quiet and you can feel satoru smirking against your skin. it looks like he won, but then a bunch of footsteps are heard and it’s your turn to smirk.

your husband lifts his head to glare at you—of course, not without sporting one of his famous pouts.

the door is then slammed open and your eldest son is there, “WHO DARES HURT OUR MAMA?!”

he gasps, very dramatically like a certain someone, and points at his dad, “PAPA?! you’re suffocating mama!”

“again?!” your daughter pops up from behind her brother, staring at her dad in disbelief.

they both stand beside your bed glaring at him and he glares back, the three of them forgetting why you called for your kids in the first place. so you do them a favor and remind them, “satoru…I AM GOING TO DIE LIKE THIS!”

satoru is pulled  back by his shirt and your kids take turns in—trying—to beat him up. you get up, greedily breathing air till you’re satisfied. you ignore the screams of your husband until you’re done with your morning routine.

luckily enough, when you got out of the bathroom, you found no one except your husband.

laying on the ground.

presumably dead.

with a bunch of drawings on his face and his hair contained with multiple hair bands.

you snap a picture of him very quickly then you sit on the ground next to his corpse. you poke his butt and he groans, making you giggle, “what happened to the strongest sorcerer?”

he turns towards you with a small frown, “his pretty wife didn’t kiss him good morning so he had no energy to fight,” his head snaps towards the two tiny figures giggling behind the door, “these monsters.”

they squeal and run away once again before he catches them.

you gently take the hair bands off, “you’re lucky that our youngest devil is still asleep,” you then smooth down his hair and pat his head, “I love the smiley faces on your cheeks.”

he whines and rests his head on your shoulder, “stop bullying me!”

you hum and stroke his hair, “you know, you did something pretty cute yesterday.”

“I am always cute; what’re you talking about?”

“you flirted with me, your wife, and said we would make ‘super cute!’ babies,” you reveal and satoru seems unbothered. in fact, he seems proud and very happy with himself so you continue, “so I had to remind you of our three little devils and then I showed you pictures.”

he stands up, posing all confidently, “what can I say? I excel at everything even being cute—“

“then you cried like a little baby when I showed you my picture post labor and kept apologizing.”

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @jisbizarre @kunikida-simp @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300

copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[r-1-der]

warnings: groping, oral (sevika recieving), bottom sevika, one slap on the ass, cum sharing?, im not proof reading anything ever

"hey, you," you mutter against sevikas neck, sliding up behind her where she finishes putting some dishes away.

"me doing your dishes wasnt enough for you?" she asks, though you can hear the small smile in her voice as she leaned back into your hold around her, enjoying the small kisses to her neck.

"i cant simply want to thank my woman?" you cant help yourself as your hands find and gently knead her tits through her wife-pleaser.

"mmh... you usually want something from me, baby."

"its hard not to."

with a final squeeze you let go, running your hands down the expanse of her strong stomach, humming with appreciation before they find her hips to pull them back against you, your own grinding against her ass.

sevikas hand reached back to cradle your neck, brushing her warm fingers against your hairline.

"you gonna let me kiss you? or are you still on a strike?" you ask her as you inch in, the warmth of her breath mingling in with yours. of course she scoffs a little.

"maybe brush your teeth sometimes," she mutters half-heartedly against your lips before pressing a lingering kiss onto them.

you stood on your toes to reach her with your tender kisses, softly licking into her mouth and swallowing up her sighs as your hands wandered over her impressive physique. unashamedly you reached down to grab her ass, her mouth opening against yours with a ragged breath as you squeezed.

"you're so beautiful," you cant help but whisper into her mouth while you reach around her to work off her belt.

"come on..." she complains quietly, though she helps detach the straps around her waist, turning her face away from you to watch your nimble hands work her pants off.

"i mean it, sevika."

you kiss down the nape of her neck, touching your lips to where her bone had began to protrude after countless nights of hanging over her work, while your hand squirmed its way into her pants to cup her pussy through damp fabric.

"handsome, then..." you re-work your wording, fondling her. sevika was so easy to rile up, be it anger or arousal, it took next to nothing to get her going and satisfied.

nudging her forward she bent over, her forearm resting on the counter, her head onto her arm again. your hand stayed nestled in her pants, wetting themselves on her, as your hips ground forward, pushing small sounds out of the woman.

her back was something to be deeply admired as her muscles worked to keep her upright and grinding back against your movements. your free hand tracing over her back, you couldnt help but groan, landing a small slap to her ass while removing your hand from between her legs.

sevika glanced over her shoulder at you, a small harmless glare situated on her face. she shook her head and looked back down onto her arm on the counter as you pulled her pants down over her hips, laughing at her reaction.

"you slap my ass all the time, dont be a kill-joy."

she only grumbles at you while you continue your fondling of her, pushing your fingers and palm into her soft flesh as you practically make out with her shoulder, licking and sucking onto her dark skin.

the wet kisses moved back to her neck as your hands moved back to her tits, pushing her shirt up to get a proper feel of her. sevika pushed herself up slightly with her hand placed firmly on the counter, moaning so softly she might just not have been at all.

"fuck, youre hot," you groan into her skin, not able to help yourself. "just want to devour you."

her head bobbed at the suggestion, you just barely glimpting her lip catching between her teeth at your handling of her, you didnt treat her like this often enough.

it didnt take long for you to crouch down behind her to sink your teeth into the thickness of her ass, delighting in her low whine at the action, at her hips pushing back against you to urge you on.

it took even less for you to bury your face into her cunt, lapping up her tangy taste. god was it good, you moaned into her wetness while she widened her stance to get you deeper, moans tumbling out through her dark lips.

licking into her, your tongue pressed flat from her thrumming clit to her weeping hole, you hummed, pressing your hands into her cheeks to pull them further apart.

you moaned into her at her taste, sevikas own sounds almost drowning out around you, her whimpers as she gripped onto what she could while you licked at her pussy just about dissipating in your desire.

"make me cum, doll, make me cum," she groaned above you, more to herself than you if you were both being honest, her hips grinding greedily into your face to earn her more pleasure.

"oh fuck-" she whimpered, biting into her arm. your own arms wrapped around thick thighs as you ate out her poor cunt as if you depended on it. you moaned too, couldnt help yourself with the heat gathering between your legs, making you shift where you kneeled behind her.

you pressed your tongue into her, fucking her with it, one of your hands moving up to thumb at her hardened clit, rubbing slow torturous circles into it. all sevika could do was twitch against your hold, to push into you, to fuck herself on your tongue. her back arched with each whine that left her, hungrily humping your face.

you couldnt help humming into her pussy, moving back down to lick at her clit, sucking it into your mouth as she tried to starve off her moans by hiding against her arm. your nose pressed so closely against her you couldnt breathe without sevika filling you.

her humping became short and unmeasured, her hand pushing against the wall to help her grind back onto you. a sweet desperate whine left her as every part of her tightened, her pussy clenching on your tongue, pussy gushing onto your face. you licked her through it, as her hips twitched and her breath came out in small gasps following whiny groans and pleas for more and yes and god right there please.

you wouldve talked, ran your mouth and told her every filthy thing on your mind, that she was a slut, greedy, helpess with your mouth on her, that no one would treat her or eat her out the way you would, but youd rather die than pull away from her perfect cunt.

some things could only be imagined, as her mouth surely hung open, her brows furrowed, and her eyes slipped closed in her headless pleasure. fuck she wanted you inside her, wanted you to stuff her full until she cried, but she knew you, and knew within the hour she would be weeping on whatever you decided would fit her that night.

even once she was done you took to peppering kisses over her, from her clit to her hole to her bush and thinghs and ass. all of it. it was obscene the way you couldnt keep your tongue and mouth off her while she caught her breath.

"so fucking good," you murmured into the fat of her ass, licking a bite you had just left on her still twitching muscle.

"so perfect, so good... fuck youre good," you kept going, unable to stop yourself from just repeating it. because truly she was so perfect and oh so good, especially against your tongue, and especially with her wanton thrusts against it.

you stood up to bend over her back, grabbing her jaw to force her lips onto your cum covered ones. it was sevikas favourite part, it had to be, when you smeared her cum onto her lips, making her taste herself on your wild tongue.

sevikas brows furrowed while you licked into her again and again, her own tongue helping to suck onto yours, easily removing her taste from you to greedily have it for herself.

"take me to bed..." she murmured against your wet lips.

[alexrosa13]

What a Lie

Caleb x female!reader

Genre: fluff/suggestive/angst

Warnings: minor writing suggestive content!, mc!reader, mention of past trauma/mental health problems, Caleb getting slapped (out of love), reader cries... a lot... cause that's how I feel with his comeback

Note: husband came back from the military guys, it was written for the official contest made by L&Ds, if you'll like my work please consider sneaking a peak to my Twitter/X and leaving something behind to boost my chances for the win, thank you <3 (should I write some additional memories later on? expect something hot)

navigation →

~★~

Walk through your memories with him to the moment of your reunion.

I feel a little nauseous and my hands are shaking

I guess that means your close by

My throat is getting dry and my heart is racing

I haven't been by your side

In a minute but I think about it sometimes

Even though I know it's not so distant

Oh no, I still wanna reminisce it

Memories of your childhood started flowing down your mind.

The day when you scraped your knee and Caleb took you back home on his back, while trying to calm you down, eventually his ramblings managed to distract you from your cries and a joyful laugh replaced sobs, laughing with tears still lingering in your eyes.

The day when a boy in your school pushed you with succeeded in making you fall and drop all the things previously in your hands. Caleb was close by that day, and noticing the situation rush to your aid, 'threatening' the boy, which almost made him pee his pants, since Caleb was older, and of course that the older kids in school were always scary. After that he helped you gather your things and back at home you thanked him with a bone crushing hug.

Or the day where you were running around with water guns, playing with the other kids in your neighbourhood. By the end of the fun you were both left with wet clothes and hair, but the joy was worth it. Noticing you shaking slightly when the wind blew towards you, he was quick to wrap you in his hoodie and take you home, when you spend the evening playing the games until your granny had to force you two to go to bed.

I think of that night in the park

It was getting dark and we stayed up for hours

What a time, what a time, what a time

You'd cling to my body

Like you wanted it forever

What a time, what a time, what a time

For you and I

What a time, what a time

For you and I

First day of Summer, your teenage years. Right after lunch you two left for a 'short trip' for ice cream, somehow spending the rest of the day walking around, sharing the memories, the one that you made together and those created with and by your friends.

Talks about the future weren't as scary as they will be someday.

Without noticing it the sun has set, your silhouettes visible only because of the street lamps. You were lying on the grass in the park, the area quiet with no one else around. You watched as the fireflies danced in the distance.

"Caleb?" your quiet voice caught the attention of the older boy to you.

"Yes?" his response calm. He heard the hint of the hesitation in your voice.

"Promise to stay with me forever?" your voice broke down, he looked at you, the tears visible in your eyes, threatening to fall down.

"Pipsqueak..." one of his hand went to brush the tear that managed to leave your eye "I promise." he stroked your hair, in a soothing gesture.

None of you knew what the future was planning to throw your way, but both of you believed one thing: that you will stay together, always.

I know we didn't end it like we're supposed to

And now we get a bit tense

I wonder if my mind just leaves out all the bad parts

I know we didn't make sense

I admit it that I think about it sometimes

Even though I know it's not so distant

Oh no, I still wanna reminisce it

Living with the traumatic past wasn't easy. No matter for how long the thoughts of the past events left your mind, they always had a way to remind you of their existence. Never ending cycle.

"It's okay, ssh, it's okay." his gentle voice broke through the sound of your sobs, it was middle of the night, your mind played tricks on you making you mistake what's the reality and what's not.

After about half an hour of silently crying into you pillow your unconscious mind made you walk to his room.

You opened and closed the door silently, he stirred in his bed, clearly not asleep yet and looked your way.

"Pipsqueak?" you looked at him, but your consciousness was closed inside of you, he felt like he was starring at the ghost.

He sat down fast, brushing the covers aside and rushing your way, hiding you in his arms the moment he found himself close enough.

The sobs shook your body with your head falling to snuggle in his neck. The voices in your mind quieting down, leaving only silence behind. The warmth of another human body next to you kept you grounded, making you come back to reality.

You spend minutes, maybe even an hour in his arms, not moving, just listening to his breathing and the beating of his heart. He didn't ask, he just stayed there with you knowing that you needed him, giving you time to calm your thoughts down.

When he noticed your steady breathing and the exhaustion visible on your face he picked you up, carrying you to his bed. He lay down behind you, dropping the covers over you two. One of his arms worked as your pillow, while the second hugged you to him. Slowly you started falling asleep, with a calm mind, last thing that you heard before you doze off was:

"Goodnight pipsqueak." and a gentle kiss on your head.

I think of that night in the park

It was getting dark and we stayed up for hours

What a time, what a time, what a time

You'd cling to my body

Like you wanted it forever

What a time, what a time, what a time

For you and I

What a time, what a time

For you and I

The last night with Caleb home before he had to leave for his aircraft training. You were happy for him, of course you were, but... That didn't help the feeling of sadness that came together with the realization that you won't see him for months to come.

No matter how selfish you wanted to be and keep him with you, you knew how important it was to him, you wouldn't dare to get in the way of his dreams. Shutting down your phone you stood up from your bed, making your way to the room where you always felt the safest. That would change after that room won't have a resident anymore.

You knocked gently on the door, almost sure that he wasn't asleep yet, and your suspicions were confirmed with a quiet 'come in' from the other side of the door.

You grabbed the handle and opened them, they let out a quiet creak.

You noticed that most of his stuff was packed. The messy room that used to be full with various little things now clean and empty. You couldn't help the feeling of your heart tightening up. Finally your eyes meet his, he looked at you expectantly, he probably guessed that you'll visit him tonight, just like you did every time you needed him.

He stayed quiet, waiting for you to say your thoughts, which you did with a shaky voice and your eyes dropping down.

"I'll miss you." you didn't talk about your deep thoughts and problems much, most of the time deciding to stay silent and enjoy the peace that came with the presence of the other. It was also probably because you knew each other so well that you knew what the other was thinking about, no words needed.

"Oh c'mon pipsqueak, I'll be back before you know it. I'll be texting and calling you whenever I can. You won't even notice me gone in between all of your plans and training to become a hunter." he smiled, unbothered. He wasn't worried about your relationship changing for the worse, you two were too close to just forget about each other and start treating the other like a stranger.

Noticing your sulking form he stood up from where he sat on his bed, placing the photo of you and him that he was looking at before you came to him back on the shelf. He walked up to you, grabbing your chin with one of his palms, forcing you to look him in the eye.

"You know; goodbyes are not forever." the smirk on his lips made you scoff. He really couldn't treat that situation seriously, could he?

"So you won't miss me huh? Okay, got it." your voice let out the annoyance you felt at his indifferent demeanor.

"Of course I will, but I know that I'll see you again." his hand went up to mess up your hair, you caught his arm with both of your hands, but because of the sudden movement you stumbled a bit, your body falling his way. Luckily his fast reflexes managed to catch you in time, pulling you close to his body in the process. Your breaths stopped for a moment, your hearts starting to beat faster, none of you wanted to look the other in the eye right now.

The atmosphere in the room changed. Something unspoken lingered in the air. For the first time in forever you wondered what the other was thinking with no clue if your suspicions were right. You didn't know if you should move away, stay in one place or... Move closer..?

You felt his hand gently caressing the back of your neck.

"Tell me you don't want this." he whispered with his head dropping to yours, it was one of those times when you got a reminder of just how tall he is. Your forehead rested on his torso, the words not leaving your mouth.

What did you want?

Uncertainly your hands went up to his face, your palms gently caressing his cheeks. The hand on your neck made you raise your head up, the other one coming to hold your chin, his finger softly tracing your lips.

"Please tell me you don't want this." his voice even quieter than before, the words leaving his mouth with his face centimetres away from yours.

"I don't want to lie." you swallowed nervously, was it really happening?

He looked at you for a moment longer, trying to catch a glimpse of uncertainty in your eyes, finding none his body decided what to do before his mind could.

His lips came to meet yours, slow and gentle at first, but the very moment you reciprocated the affection his hand left your neck to wrap itself around your waist, pulling you even closer to him and deepening the kiss.

You lost track of the time, everything else not important right now, millions of unspoken feelings finding their way onto the surface. You felt a tear tracing your cheek, not even sure when you started crying.

After what felt like seconds, which probably were a couple of minutes, you broke the kiss with the need to breath. You opened your eyes, your gaze finding his, the longing in his eyes will probably stay in your mind forever to remind you of him every time you'll try to fall asleep.

Once more, there was no need for words, both of you knew what the other one thought and wanted, your heavy breathing met the quietness of the night, and in the next second your hands grabbed his t-shirt to pull him back in harshly, his palms matched your fierceness, pulling you by your waist and the back of your head. The noises of heated kisses and quiet moans filled the air, you hugged his neck, standing on your toes to get even closer to him.

You'll miss him so much.

For you and I

For you and I

For you and I

First months without him made you feel so lonely, it felt so weird to not be able to walk up to his room and hug him to sleep, or wake up without him making you breakfast.

He kept his promise, calling and texting you when he could, but that didn't happen often, since rookies were rarely given a time to spend on their phones.

You were staring at the photo of him smiling with the necklace you gifted him perfectly visible, the plushie that he won at the arcade for you when you were teenagers tightly wrapped in your arms.

The night you spent with him months ago still in your head. That man turned your world upside down, changing your attitude towards him drastically. You felt like you were fourteen having a crush on the boy from your class and planning all the things on how to win him over.

Soon he'll be here. Where he belongs, with you.

But until then the memories of him will have to somehow be enough.

You played the voice message he sent you a couple days ago again. The words leaving his mouth were already memorized by you, his voice brought you a sense of calm nothing else could.

He was cruel to leave you for so long after sharing his feelings for you the night of his departure.

But... You were cruel too, letting him have you the night he had to leave, making him leave with the memories of your warmth and comfort, with the memory of your quiet pleads to remember about you and to come back to you, you were so fragile in his arms, the walls you build up around yourself collapsing the moment his skin touched yours underneath the covers, with the moon being the only witness to your love.

What a time, what a time

For you and I

What a time for you and I, yeah

What a time, what a time

For you and I

The tap out ceremony after finishing the training was today, Granny let you go there by yourself, saying something about having a doctor appointment. Caleb will stay at your apartment for the first days, since your rooms in your childhood home are currently in a not really good state.

You were excited and nervous at the same time, your heart threatened to break through your chest with how strong it was beating.

You got there and saw all those people, soldiers, standing in perfect rows, people looking for their kids, siblings, lovers. A lot of noises full of joy could be heard from everywhere around you. Slowly, you walked forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the boy who's been living in your mind rent-free for the past months.

It took you some time, but you finally noticed him. He wasn't facing your way, so he had no way of knowing you were already there. You felt your eyes getting glossy, and your hand went to cover your mouth. You stood there for a moment, finally seeing him in person after what felt like forever spent without him by your side. How much has he changed?

Not letting your thoughts distract you for too long you finally took slow steps his way, walking between the lines of other people waiting for their close ones.

You found yourself right before him, his gaze stayed focused ahead of him, emotionless expression still on his face, waiting for your touch.

You took a moment to admire him. He looked almost nothing like the boy that left, a man now, one could say. Did he change on the inside too? Is he still your Caleb?

With a deep breath you stepped even closer to him, your arms behind your back. Standing now centimetres away from him, your smile widens and finally you shoot up to embrace him in the hug that you needed for months now.

He didn't miss a beat, instantly hugging you back, and picking your body above the ground.

"I told you I'll be back." he said, with his mouth right above your ear. You didn't respond, just hugged him even tighter, letting the gesture speak instead of words.

You were finally home.

I think of that night in the park

It was getting dark and we stayed up for hours

What a lie, what a lie, what a lie

You'd cling to my body

Like you wanted it forever

What a lie, what a lie, what a lie

For you and I

What a lie, what a lie

For you and I

He was right there, the same..? But different...

How could he... After so long...

Your expression gave out the million thoughts stucked in your head.

You started at him, was it really him?

You had enough of crying after that guy, blaming yourself for what happened, that you should go inside of the house with him, or maybe said one sentence more to keep him outside, anything.

And now... It all didn't matter. He was here, changed, but still him.

More tears lingered in your eyes, you felt like you were drowning, couldn't breath, your heart racing. It couldn't be real. He couldn't be real.

He looked at you indifferent, as if not moved at all by the sight of you before him.

You felt your knees giving up, before collapsing under you and sending your body to the ground. But before you could hit the hard floor your body stayed above it, before gently getting lowered down. You heard steps coming closer to you, but your eyes stayed focused on the floor, not really understanding what is happening right now.

You felt a hand holding your chin, making you raise your head and look the man in the eyes. It couldn't be...

"What? You don't recognize me anymore?" his tone cold, was it really the very person who plugged your mind everyday?

"Caleb..?" your voice so quiet that you almost didn't hear it yourself. You saw his gaze soften, more and more tears started filling your eyes. You started at him, not knowing what to do now. You believed he was dead for so long.

"It's me. I'm back." he said, his tone changing for something softer this time, dropping his cold demeanor.

You raised your hand slowly towards his face, he looked at it for a moment, letting you take your time with processing the situation.

But then you did something unexpected...

The sound of a slap echoed in the room, he looked at you in shock. You did not just do that.

"That..." your voice shook, with sadness, but also anger "Is for your 'death'." the last word came out snarky.

"Pipsque-" you pulled him by his uniform's collar crushing your lips with him, he stayed frozen, his eyes widening. He wasn't expecting that. Before he had a chance to reciprocate your angry kiss you already pulled back, pushing him away from yourself.

"And this... Is for your return." tears fell down your face, he stared at you in awe. You weren't crying. Little drops were still making their paths on your face, but there were no sobs, no shaking of your body, not even sadness left in your eyes. There was numbness... But also hope in your gaze. One thing that he wished at this very moment was that he'll manage to make everything okay. He has to make everything okay.

For you and I (For you)

For you and I (For you)

For you and I (For you and I)

For you and I, yeah

[del-thetiredwriter]

Warning: yandere stuff, stalking, gender-neutral reader. English is my second language.

You woke up to the annoying sound of your phone alarm. Another day, time to go to work again. As an ordinary Gotham resident, you had a mostly monotonous life, at least until the last few months. As you got ready and stepped out the door, a cheerful voice called out to you.

“Good morning Y/n.”

Your opposite neighbor Richard Grayson, had his usual bright face on, and you didn’t want to deal with him in the morning.

“Good morning.” You replied.

“Are you going to work? Do you want me to drop you off?”

Oh no, definitely not. However, before you could refuse, your next door neighbor suddenly opened the door in a hurry.

“I’m late! I told you to wake me up earlier! Oh good morning Y/n.”

Your next door neighbor blushed slightly as he noticed you. Dark circles under his eyes, a coffee in his hand, untied shoes…Yup your next door neighbor Tim Drake was on his form again. While Dick laughed at the situation, you simply said good morning.

“Thank you for the offer but it’s really not necessary.”

You tried to decline Dick’s offer but this guy knew how to convince you.

“Come on, are you going to walk to the bus station at this hour? It’ll be faster and more comfortable.”

-

Okay, Dick had convinced you again with his excellent persuasion skills. You took a deep breath as you got in the car. That pressure was on you again. The feeling of being watched down to your bones… The feeling of being watched had been on you for the last few months. At your home, at your workplace, on the street… A paranoia that you couldn’t understand why you felt had taken over you. Especially your new neighbors who had moved in all of a sudden didn’t make you feel comfortable. You mean, it’s wrong to think like that about your friendly, helpful, smiling, nice neighbors for no reason, but you swear that whenever you looked into their eyes for more than a few seconds, you felt that weird feeling. Trapped? Suffocated? You couldn’t name it.

“You don’t seem to be able to sleep, is there a problem?”

Dick asked worriedly.

“Hmm? I guess so.” You answered.

“Is there a problem?” Tim turned around to make eye contact with you in the backseat.

“Nightmare.” You answered. Dick laughed at your answer.

“If there really is a problem Y/n, tell me. Other than that, be careful about your sleep or you’ll end up like Tim.”

You told the truth but didn’t answer back and Dick’s joke had lightened the mood a bit.

-

“Dear passenger Y/n, we’ve arrived at your drop-off point. We Grayson transportation would like to thank you for choosing us.”

“Thanks for the ride.” You got out of the vehicle.

“Of course it was an honor for us. We wish you a good shift.” He blew you a kiss through his open window, and Tim started scolding him from behind.

You nodded and headed towards your workplace. The strange journey was finally over. Oh, by the way, he was going to stop by on patrol tonight, right? You could have asked him about this ‘nightmare’ thing.

-

“You got a lot. Are you going to make a cake or something?” Jason Todd, your neighbor next door to Dick , asked while carrying the bags. To be honest, he was the least annoying of the neighbors. He was very polite despite his tough looks . But sometimes he could be annoying.

“Uh huh. I’m going to make cookies.”

You answered. Literally five minutes ago you nearly screamed when he suddenly appeared behind you and tapped you on the shoulder.

“Well, will you send me some too, right ?” He asked with that mischievous grin of his.

“I’m having you carry them so your muscles can be useful. Think this as a workout . But if I do extra, I’ll send them.”

Jason laughed.

“You’re the best.”

-

“I’m sorry, I didn’t wanted to stop you in the middle of your patrol, but I’ve had the feeling that I was being watched for the last few months. And last week, when that thing was watching me at night…”

“No problem, but are you sure?” Robin asked while eating one of the cookies you made.

“I’m not sure since it was night. I thought I saw its silhouette in the dark but I couldn’t open my eyes completely because I was scared. But its face was so close. I swear I could feel its breath. If you have free time, it would be nice if you could take a look.”

“We’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.” Batman replied reassuringly.

-

…

“We dropped them off at work. But they looked tired.”

“I helped them carry the bags. They were going to make cookies.”

The day’s report was being given in the bat cave after the patrol. Batman and Robin had finally returned.

“One of us got caught.” Bruce got right to the point without beating around the bush as he got out from the Batmobile.

“I think it’s either Todd or Drake who got caught.” Damian got out of the Batmobile with a plate of cookies in his hand.

“Wait, are those the cookies that Y/n made?” Tim pointed at the cookies.

“Yes. And I emphasize, they’re all mine because they were made for me.” Just as a fight was about to break out over the cookies, Bruce intervened.

“There is a more important matter. Y/n noticed one of us watching them at night. We need to change plans.”

“Perhaps it is time for them to move into the manor , Master Bruce.”

[nolovelingers]

hi omg i loved ur hcs for ethan landry as ur bf <333 do you think you could write something like that, but for tate langdon, please?

TATE LANGDON AS YOUR BOYFRIEND ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧

ೄྀ࿐ requested ! ˊˎ-

headcanons — // cw ! : dark themes ,, obsessive tendencies,, nsfw !! similar to ethans i try to keep these as realistic as my silly little mind is able to think !! very toxic relationship 🌀 talk of self harm & smoking

——————————————————————————

 SFW !!

TATE LANGDON AS YOUR BOYFRIEND . . . is like meeting someone who’s not like anyone you’ve ever met. there are no duplicates, copies or a person even remotely similar to the dark eyed boy.

there’s always been something about his odd personality that has a strange charm to it. he’s always held himself up to his own standards and even back before the entire westfield high situation he’s been very picky about his living style and the people he surrounds himself with.

so therefore when he met you, the stilled silence to his violent tornado, it was as if everything else in the world dimmed and the spotlight shone to you.

he would never leave you alone. not when you move rooms, not if you try to have people over, not when you stormed into the backyard and sat under the flickering moon as you desperately grasped for alone time. not even when you go to the bathroom.

the second he came into your life and you allowed him to, privacy no longer existed. the only time he would ever leave was if he had his own emergency to partake to or if your guardian(s) were around.

at first it was cute, you couldn’t really deny the fact that having a boyfriend so attached to the hip and dependent made your heart flutter in some sort of way. but you quickly learned that even as dreamy as it sounds it’s not all that great.

if you run to the bathroom and lock yourself inside the langdon boy is fast to follow suite, confused on where or what you were running from until he watched you shut the restroom door and he slid his back against it; knees brought up to his chest as he patiently waited for you to come back out. and trust me, he will wait. doesn’t matter if it’s hours or even half of the day. he won’t move an inch.

you hardly invite friends over but the few times you do you’re fast to regret it. you tell him your friends coming over, hoping he’ll take the hint to leave, and he’ll only blankly stare at you; face devoid of any emotion as he mutters a gentle ‘oh’ before returning to looking through your collections of whatever it is you have an abundance of. maybe books, cd’s, vinyls, comics, posters, crystals/rocks, stuffed animals, funky socks or a hoard of animal bones; there’s nothing in your room tate hasnt gotten his hands on.

even after you alert him of the approaching company unless you plan on shoving him out or repeatedly asking him to leave he doesn’t plan on going anywhere. he’s terrible at reading social cues and you have to spell out the simplest things for him.

he’s quick to judge your friends, not one of them is good enough for you in his mind and he’ll be sure to voice that. sometimes even straight to their face; with a blank expression and no emotion behind his eyes. it doesn’t matter how close or how long you’ve known someone, could even be your whole life, they’re not good for you like he is.

he often says the most terrible and disgusting things about them to your face, judging you heavily for the people you hang around and making you feel insecure.

he is definitely the type to drive wedges in between all of your relationships. just with your friends at first but as the relationship furthers he begins to do the same to your family too.

obviously he can’t leave the house but if there was ever a time you ranted about someone you dislike, hurt your feelings or overall anything spoken poorly about them he would remember it till halloween and carefully map out their murder. i mean, you wanted them to die right? why else would you tell him about it?

tate is extremely oblivious to your emotions. he loves you so much and it’s clear to him you must be meant for each other. so no matter how you feel back, reciprocated or not tate would assume you liked him too. he refuses to be in the friend zone and throws a hissy fit if you ever even try.

as we all known he’s one of the prettiest criers out there and this is very useful when it comes to manipulating. he knows you have a weak spot for seeing his tears and now anytime you try to lecture him, kick him out or he feels as though you’re not understanding his (rather malicious) side of the story the tears are quick to fall. but the tricky thing here is that they are always real tears of sadness and regret; it’s just as though he’s reprogrammed himself to cry at any minor inconvenience.

his favorite cuddle position is spooning and he often likes to be the little spoon. no one in his life has ever cared for him enough (or at least in his eyes they haven’t), and when you have your arms securely around him, pulling him into you; it’s like heaven on earth. he feels so safe, warm and comforted. there are of course days where the rolls switch but there’s really no denying he prefers to be the one being spooned.

id definitely say he’s a sort of pathological liar and even when he doesn’t mean for it to happen lies fall from his mouth as easy as tears stream from his eyes. it could be about the stupidest shit or it could be actually serious as he tries to work his way out of a situation he’s actually at fault for.

this makes it really hard to trust him, because it’s eerily scary how easy it is for him to lie straight to your face with even blinking, or come up with excuses on the spot. i know people like to claim they’re usually good at picking up when people are lying to them but with tate it’s a huge challenge. he’s unnaturally good at it and doesn’t hesitate.

it’s not easy to pick up on his fibs in the moment but there are a few times you’re able to realize later on; as his stories don’t add up or he forgot his lie in the first place and comes up with a completely different one when asked the same question from before.

and even then once he gets caught; deny deny deny. you’re the one in the wrong for accusing him of something like that when he just has a poor memory and suddenly you’re the bad guy for pointing fingers even though you’re the one with evidence and he just throws out empty accusations.

if you smoke i think he’d love to break into your stash a lot, he didn’t use weed before his death but once you introduce him i see him as a sort of mini-stoner. he’ll use your stuff without even asking. he kind of contradicts himself in that way because for the most part when he was still living he thought people who smoked or drank were stupid, ruining their body. he looked down on them. when you’re dead though you cant really destroy your body and though he still doesn’t like drinking he’ll indulge in smoking.

if you do any sort of after school activity or club he’ll encourage you to quit, telling you how it’s all stupid and a waste of time that you could be spending together. if you refuse he’ll try to sabotage it for you the best he can while being confined to the house. maybe sending a nasty email to your teacher/coach or by ruining a uniform or equipment you use.

there’s definitely times when he’s asked you to drop out of highschool to which you immediately declined and there’s not really much else he could do about this nuisance.

langdon will put you onto his likes and interests, music or movies he has a taste for. he’ll try the stuff you like as well but he’s quick to judge and doesn’t do second thoughts or tries. if he doesn’t like it he won’t even pretend to and will harsh out negative reviews before you turn it off. and then he’ll act confused on why you suddenly stopped it but he’s very glad you did. he couldn’t stand it.

and because of this when you’re hanging out it’s all about what tate wants to do. the music he wants to play. the things he wants to talk about and the films he wants to watch.

jealousy is a major problem for him and the mention of really anyone, but especially if it’s a guy, will have his blood pumping and his head spinning.

to him, he only has you. it should be the same way around, he absolutely hates that you have and know other people that aren’t just him.

tw? — if you ever try to leave him he goes all out and puts on the most dramatic show you’ve literally ever seen. throwing himself against walls, screaming and crying his eyes out, burying his head in his knees and clutching at his hair while begging and pleading for you to stay. he doesn’t get angry at all but turns more pathetic and desperate as he clings onto you. lots of “ill do better”, “you can’t leave me”, “tell me what I did wrong” and “you’re all I have”’s leaving his lips. if this doesn’t work he’ll harm himself in front of you, smashing his head against the wall or even using a sharp tool to cut into his arm while only asking one thing. “is this what you want?”

tw? — it’s a very draining relationship and can impact your mental space a lot. if you self harm he will catch you eventually, whether it’s while in the act or the scars/scabs from after. he’ll grab your arm (not assuming that’s where you sh, just so he has a grip on you), asking you how you could be so selfish (which is his way of caring) and then asking you to cut him instead anytime you wanted to hurt yourself. this is obviously off putting and drives a wedge between you for a while, which he will trap you back by guilting you and apologizing. (even though he was completely serious when asking and still is.)

the blonde haired boy lives for your validation. he’s constantly asking for reassurance and pestering you with loads of questions. whether if it’s if you like his outfit to if you still had feelings for him or not.

he’s a huge listener than he is a talker and could sit for hours, happily criss crossed and a toothless and content smile on his face while you go on about every little detail of your day.

he’s definitely asked you to do his eyeliner before but would rather die (again) than have anything else applied to his skin. it would cripple his masculinity.

overall he’s very touchy, craving for any contact he can get with you. resting his head on your shoulder, holding hands, his hand on your thigh or pinkies intwined. he always has to be touching you in some way.

recommending books and songs are one of his all time favorite things to do and he does expect you to read or listen to all of his suggestions. he’ll ask you about it a few days later after initially suggesting it and will get upset if you still haven’t looked into it.

tate hardly gets angry, he’s very sensitive as we all know and most of the time it ends in his hysterical sobs; but when the fire inside him lights it’s terrifying.

if you weren’t the one to make him angry you’d usually be okay, he’d rant about it to you while you played with his hair; describing all of the horrendous ways he wanted to see the person or thing he’s mad at crash and burn. if he’s angry at you it’s like he moves on his own, putting you in a chokehold and slamming you against the wall, yelling and pointing fingers at you. pushing items off your desks/dressers/shelf’s and you make him go away; scared of him hurting you. he wouldn’t, not intentionally, but it was a very scary sight to see.

of course within hours he’d return, tears streaming down his face and begging on his knees for your forgiveness, arms latched around your legs as he sobbed into them and refused to let go until you forgave him.

as much as he loves you and wants you to be together forever, he would never purposefully go to the extent of killing you in the house so you could stay with him forever at the age you are. it sucks, he knows it sucks, but he does have a boundary set for that. he doesn’t want you stuck there for the rest of your life. he’s just hoping you’ll stay in that house with him willingly anyway. he’d let you go after crying his heart out for days, but he’d never let you forget him or move on. and being honest; he would probably start to regret the decision.

his love for you goes beyond words, it consumes him completely. he knows now his purpose. the day he died in that house and the years that passed waiting up to the day he met you.

he was made for loving you, in his own sick way. you are his entire heart.

NSFW !!

tate is a switch in the bedroom, but he’s so easy to dominate which makes him lead towards being more submissive. of course he’ll be in his dominant moods, there’s no doubt, but it’s laughable how easy it is to take control back over him.

he loves to overstimulate you, fucking you or relentlessly giving you head for hours, not giving you rest inbetween as you beg for him to stop through shattered moans.

(if you’re a female) — we all know about his mommy issues and he definitely incorporates that into the bedroom in some ways.

(if you’re a female) — he’s a tits man rather than ass and anytime you’re going at it your shirt has to be off, he doesn’t care what size breasts you have all he wants is to attach his mouth around your nipples and tease them with his tongue, sucking lightly before leaving hickeys all over them.

(if you’re a female) — he has the best fuck me eyes the worlds ever seen and when he’s bottoming he can’t stop himself from calling you ‘mama’.

he’s very kinky, and he has put on the infamous leather suit before to fuck you. it makes him feel more powerful, like he’s in control.

when he’s topping he’ll have one hand pinning one of your arms above your hand while using his other to interlace your fingers, crying into your neck with all the pleasure he’s feeling.

he’s not the greatest on cleaning up afterwords but he always snuggles you, cuddling up to you in a ball and resting his head soundly on your chest as his breathing slows and he drifts off.

but the most important thing to know — tate is godly at sex. he doesn’t have the most experience in the world but he definitely wasn’t a virgin by the time you met and he knows what he’s doing.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ a/n : thank you sm for requesting , made my day !! i hope that this is to your liking, i appreciate the compliment ab my ethan headcanon i tried my best <33. my inbox is open to all !!

started 08.06.23. finished 08.07.23.

©️nolovelingers 2023

[prettygirl-gabi]

Chapter 29: Ghosts of the Past

Rating: Teen Audiences

Warnings: Protective!Paige, Azzi, Ice, Mentions of Y/N’s Ex, Panic Attacks

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x !Photographer Fem Reader

Fandom: Women’s Basketball

Summary: Why now...

Welcome to the chapter 29 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

Shopping trips with the team were always filled with laughter, banter, and an unrelenting amount of teasing. It was one of those things that felt like a welcome distraction from everything else. Today was no different. Paige, Azzi, Ice, and I were in our usual group, having fun as we made our way through the aisles. The others had split off to check out a sneaker store just a few blocks down, leaving the four of us to do a little damage in a nearby boutique.

"Are you seriously trying to convince me that green looks good on everyone?" Azzi asked, holding up a neon green hoodie, her expression a mix of disbelief and amusement.

I snorted, glancing over at Paige, who was smirking at me. "I’m just saying," Paige teased. "Some of us can pull it off better than others."

"You mean like you?" Ice chimed in, causing Paige to give a dramatic shrug.

"Obviously," Paige responded, looking pleased with herself.

Azzi rolled her eyes. "Let’s get this over with before Paige starts modeling for us."

The lighthearted atmosphere filled the space, and for a moment, I felt the weight of the past few weeks lift. Between school, practice, and my constant juggling act, I hadn’t realized how much I needed this—just the simple joy of being with people I cared about.

But then, as I turned a corner of the store, the world seemed to freeze. My heart stuttered in my chest.

Standing just a few feet away, browsing through a rack of jackets, was someone I thought I’d never have to see again. My ex.

I froze, the blood draining from my face. The warmth that had settled in me moments ago disappeared in an instant, replaced by a cold, creeping fear that settled deep in my bones.

Paige’s voice broke through my panic. "Y/N?" she asked softly, stepping closer. I couldn’t bring myself to look at her, my eyes locked on the figure in front of me. I could feel my hands begin to shake as memories from that toxic relationship flooded my mind. The manipulation, the gaslighting, the verbal jabs—everything that once felt suffocating was suddenly there, fresh and painful.

"Why are you back here?" I muttered under my breath, my voice unsteady. I could barely even hear it over the roar of my heartbeat.

Azzi, noticing my sudden shift in energy, stepped up to my other side. "Who’s this?" she asked, her voice sharp with suspicion.

Before I could answer, the guy turned, his eyes locking with mine. "Y/N? Wow, I didn’t expect to see you here!" He said, his tone too casual, too comfortable for someone who had hurt me so badly.

Azzi's arms crossed as she shot a glare at him. "Who’s this?" she repeated, her voice laced with protectiveness.

"I’m her ex," the guy replied, his eyes flicking between Azzi and Paige. He was trying to figure out the situation. "We dated her freshman year."

I felt my knees go weak as the walls I had built so carefully around my past began to crumble. Paige immediately noticed the change in me, her hand instinctively finding mine and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You okay?" she whispered, her voice quiet but firm.

I couldn’t answer. My breath was coming in short bursts, my chest tight with anxiety. My ex’s presence alone was enough to send me spiraling.

Azzi’s voice was sharp and commanding as she addressed him. "Maybe you should leave."

"What? I’m not doing anything wrong," he protested, raising his hands in mock surrender.

"You’re making her uncomfortable," Paige said, her voice steely and authoritative.

His gaze flicked to me, and I could see the confusion on his face. "I just wanted to say hi."

"Hi, and now bye," Ice’s voice rang out from behind us, her words leaving no room for argument.

Azzi and Ice stood like a wall between me and my ex, their eyes fixed on him with a glare that would make anyone back off. In a matter of seconds, they had him out of the store, leaving me surrounded by the people who would always have my back.

I was still trembling, my breath uneven as I tried to regain control of my racing heart. Paige stepped closer, her hands cupping my face, her touch gentle yet firm. "Hey, hey," she whispered softly. "Look at me."

I couldn’t help it—tears welled in my eyes. I didn’t want to cry. Not here, not now, but everything came flooding back. "I... I didn’t want to see him again, Paige," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Why now? Why here?"

Paige’s hands rubbed comforting circles on my arms as she leaned her forehead against mine. "You’re safe now, Y/N. He can’t hurt you anymore." Her words were calm, soothing, like a balm on the wounds I didn’t even realize were still raw.

"I’m sorry," I whispered, the tears breaking free.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Paige said gently, brushing away the tear that had slipped down my cheek. "You’ve been through a lot, and you don’t owe him or anyone anything."

The rest of the team returned, the air filled with quiet tension. Ice, Azzi, and KK had made sure my ex was gone, but the damage lingered in the pit of my stomach. KK was the first to speak up. "What happened?" Her voice was laced with concern.

"Her ex showed up," Ice muttered, her tone sharp. "Total creep."

Paige wrapped her arm around me, pulling me close. "We’re going back to my dorm," she said firmly, her protective instincts flaring. "We’ll figure this out there."

At the dorm, things felt a little calmer, though my nerves were still shot. I sat curled up on Paige’s bed, a blanket draped around my shoulders, sipping on a cup of tea she had made for me. I didn’t want to talk about it—not yet. The memories were still too fresh, too painful.

Paige sat beside me, her presence calming, her fingers gently lacing through mine. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly, her voice quiet, giving me the space I needed.

I shook my head. "Not right now. But…thank you. For everything."

"You don’t have to thank me," Paige murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "I’ll always protect you."

I leaned into her, letting her warmth and comfort settle me. "I know," I whispered. "I know."

Later that night, after I had finally managed to sleep, the nightmares came.

I woke up, my body drenched in sweat, my heart pounding as though I was back in that dark, toxic relationship. I gasped for air, feeling trapped in a nightmare I couldn’t escape. The panic rose in my chest, my breath coming in quick, shallow bursts.

I tried to calm myself down, but the images were still there, haunting me—his face, the way he used to make me feel like I wasn’t good enough, that I was nothing.

But then, suddenly, a pair of warm hands cupped my face. Paige was there, her voice soft and steady as she whispered, "Hey, look at me. You’re safe."

I turned into her, the tears falling freely now. "I can’t breathe, Paige. I can’t—"

"Shh," Paige soothed, her hands running down my back as she gently rocked me. "Just breathe with me, okay? Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth."

I followed her lead, focusing on her voice, her presence, the way she always seemed to ground me when everything else fell apart.

"I’ve got you," she whispered. "You’re safe. You’re here with me, and no one can hurt you. Not anymore."

Slowly, I felt my breathing steady, the panic that had gripped me loosening its hold.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice still shaky. "I’m sorry for waking you."

Paige smiled softly, her thumb brushing across my cheek. "Don’t apologize, baby. I’ll always be here for you, Y/N. Always."

I snuggled closer to her, my heart finally beginning to settle. "I’m lucky to have you," I whispered, the words barely escaping my lips as I drifted back into a peaceful sleep, surrounded by the warmth of the girl who would always protect me.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza , @paxaz535 , @0phantom0 , @starlighttsv , @authentic-girl03 , @elalfywhore , @elalfywhore .... (more to be added)

[suckerforblondeathletes]

I would love that l Alexia P. x Reader

Part 1/2

Summary: You and Alexia have been friends for years, but feelings slowly arise, and they spark a match during the championship league final.

Warnings: Oblivious reader? Fluff! Mapi being a therapist for both athletes' feelings.

Authours Note: Hope you enjoy this! Part two?

Ever since you came to Barcelona years ago, you and your captain, Alexia, have always been close. She always kept you close, she said it was because you had a bright future ahead of you, and a friend close by is always helpful. But that was only partially correct.

You started to gain feelings when she tore her ACL, you being with her so much, helping and making things easier for her, and her being so vulnerable with you in a hard time made your feelings aspire to be greater than friendship.

But you never thought anything of it, telling yourself that the Catalan would never like you, and that she never saw you like that.

Time skip to the championship game, the final game, all of the hard work you and your team have put into this season came down to this.

Your nerves were going haywire. Why wouldn't they? Who wouldn't be nervous in this situation? You might be thinking no one, but your wrong.

Alexia had almost no nerves in sight. She was always calm like that. Never anxious or nervous in big games like this. Always had a relaxed face and relaxed mindset.

You were in the locker room, fixing your hair for the 100th time because of your shaking hands. Which were filled with sweat and fear.

Your breathing picks up and you start looking around frantically, looking for a solace of some sort. Which didn't go unnoticed by a certain Catalan.

You felt Alexias warm hand grab your hands from your hair and put them by your sides, wrapping her arms around your waits and pulling you close, like she always did when you got nervous and panicky like this.

She tucked her nose into the crook of your neck and squeezed your waist.

"Whats bothering you amor?" She asked you as you leaned back and put your head on her shoulder. Attempting to hide the blush on your face from the nickname she always used when talking to you.

"Just nerves." You close your eyes and cancel out the noise from your rowdy teammates.

"Tell me what is making your nervous." She runs her hand up and down your waist, her tone not rude or mean, but inviting you to vent to her in a soft way that shows she isn't forcing you to do anything.

"I just want it to go perfect, im worried something will mess it up." You open your eyes while talking, she turns you around and helps you lay down some fly away you have.

"Amor, you have nothing to worry about. Lo harás increíble, como siempre lo haces." (You will do amazing, like you always do) She smiles while looking at your with pure adoration, holding your face in your hands.

"Eso espero" (I hope so) She kisses your forehead before leaving to line up with the others at the tunnel.

As she moves out of the way you make eye contact with Mapi, who is leaning on a locker with a smirk on her face. You roll your eyes before walking up to her.

"So you and the Capitana officially?" You wrap your arm around her shoulders before finishing.

"I wish" And y'all walk out.

Mapi has known about your feelings for Alexia ever since the night your came to terms with the fact you even had them.

Little did you know she had been talking to Mapi as well, but she never told you that.

The game began, and the other team was good, you can't even lie.

They had you stressing until finally, the crowd when crazy, and Alexia scored.

You felt adrenaline shoot through your veins and you sprinted to her, tackling the half naked women in a bone crushing hug after she finished her run around the half of the stadium.

"Estoy tan orgullosa de ti, no entiendes" (Im so proud of you, you don't understand) You shout in her ear over the loud crowd.

She smiles at you and says "lo hice por ti mi amor" (I did it for you my love) You look at her in confusion after she finishes her sentence, not understanding what she meant.

"I didn't want you to keep worrying, so I wanted to help but your mind at ease." You laugh and jump into her arms again and hug her, not before pressing a kiss to her cheek.

After the match, you ran immediately to her, with tears in both of your eyes you say "We did it!"

She wipes her eyes and hugs you tighter, "We did"

TIME SKIP

When the team boards the plane for Barcelona, you sit with Alexia.

She makes sure your comfortable in your seat before settling in herself. She turns to you and has this look on her face you know very well.

"What do you want to say?" You smile as she takes your hand in hers.

"I was wondering if you want, when we get back to Barcelona, to maybe go get dinner?" She looks in your eyes for an answer.

You don't even have to think before nodding,

"I would love that"

[rafeskai]

Life as We Know It — Rafe Cameron

Epilogue

Two opposites must navigate love, loss, and unexpected parenthood to discover the meaning of family.

Summary: When tragedy strikes, two very different individuals find their lives unexpectedly intertwined as they become the guardians of an orphaned child. As they navigate the challenges of co-parenting, balancing careers, and confronting their pasts, they discover that family can form in the most surprising ways. Through heartfelt moments and unexpected humor, they explore what it means to build a life together—one step at a time.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Character deaths & angst.

Author's Notes: That marks the end of this series :( thank you guys so much for all the love and feedback! I’m so proud of this series and I hope u guys love it as much as I do.

Masterlist: Here

It had been a year since the custody battle, since Rafe and you had found yourselves standing side by side, figuring out this whole "family" thing. A year since both of you issued a restraining order against Ward, and the judge granted it. A year since you stopped pretending you didn’t feel something for him, and he stopped acting like he was too good for anyone, especially you. Now, the chaos of life had settled into a strange, beautiful rhythm. It wasn’t perfect—far from it—but it was yours.

And, somehow, against all odds, the three of you had made it work.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The morning sun streamed through the kitchen window, where you stood trying to assemble breakfast. You had learned, over time, that cooking for Willa was an Olympic sport. Every time you managed to whip together a simple meal, she somehow managed to flip the situation on its head—literally.

"Willa, no!" you heard Rafe call out from the living room. You looked up just in time to see him frantically trying to stop her from scaling the couch like some sort of tiny, diaper-clad Spider-Man. “You can’t climb up there!”

But Willa was undeterred. She gave a small shriek of triumph, her baby legs scrabbling up the cushions like she was born to conquer furniture. You had to admit, you were impressed.

"I swear she’s part monkey," you muttered under your breath, flipping pancakes with a practiced hand.

Rafe stumbled into the kitchen, his hair sticking out at odd angles, the look of a man who had given up on ever having a decent morning.

“You say that like it’s a surprise,” he deadpanned, rubbing his face. “We’ve had this conversation a hundred times. No more couch climbing. She’s already an inch away from that giant coffee table, which, let me remind you, is made of solid oak. And do you know what happens when Willa decides gravity is optional?”

You snorted. “We end up on the floor with her holding a half-empty juice box like she’s just conquered the world, while you scramble to pick up the pieces of your dignity.”

He shot you a pointed look. “Exactly.”

You set the pancakes aside and wandered over to rescue Willa, who was now attempting to climb up the back of the couch like a small, determined mountain goat. Scooping her up with one hand, you held her up in front of you. “You know, kid, you’re lucky you’re so cute, because if I had to stop doing my work every time you decided to do a backflip off a chair, I’d be in therapy by now.”

Willa gurgled, her eyes wide and innocent, as though she didn’t have a single rebellious bone in her tiny body.

Rafe leaned against the doorframe, folding his arms. “I’m just saying, if she’d stop doing that, maybe I could get ten minutes of peace. But no. We live in a house of chaos.”

You smirked, watching as Willa grabbed his shirt and yanked. “If she’s chaos, you’re the tornado that hits right after,” you teased, making Rafe roll his eyes dramatically. “Just admit it—you love it.”

He groaned but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, yeah, I love the chaos. But you have to admit it’s a lot of work. I mean, who’s going to put together her tiny little rocking horse without accidentally breaking something?”

“Not me,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure I broke that rocking horse three times already.”

At that, Rafe laughed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, I’ll take that as my cue to fix it. You keep trying to make breakfast, and I’ll figure out what’s going on with the toy horse that’s apparently haunted.”

Willa babbled in your arms, and you kissed the top of her head. “I’m not saying this to be dramatic, but I’m pretty sure she is a secret agent in training. I’ve seen her figure out how to break into places she’s not supposed to be like she’s in a spy movie.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow. “Spy movie? She’s more like a tiny burglar who knows how to manipulate you with her big eyes and unstoppable giggle.”

You chuckled, nodding. “Fair. But I still think she could make a killing in espionage. Maybe we should start saving for her college fund in case she ends up needing a fake passport.”

Rafe grinned, his mood visibly lightened by your banter. “I’m pretty sure we’re going to need therapy more than we need a college fund. But I’ll get started on that fake passport idea, just in case.”

You grinned back at him, feeling that familiar warmth settle in your chest. There was a time—just a year ago—when you had no idea what your future would look like. Now, here you were, a family, even if it didn’t look like any family you had ever imagined.

“Well,” you said, turning back to the pancakes, “we better get our act together before she eats all the syrup by herself.”

Rafe snorted and shot you a grin. “You think she’s not going to try that already?”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Later that day, after Willa’s nap (which, let’s be honest, was more of a battle than an actual nap), you and Rafe found yourselves in the backyard, taking a breather after the chaotic lunch you’d just survived. Willa was happily playing in her little sandbox, tossing sand like it was confetti at a New Year’s party, while you and Rafe collapsed onto the porch swing, exhausted but content.

"How the hell did we get here?" you asked, your voice quiet, more to yourself than to him.

Rafe leaned back with a sigh, staring up at the sky. "I’m pretty sure we got here because you’re too stubborn to admit you love me," he said with a grin.

You nudged him with your elbow. "Excuse me, but it’s not just me that’s stubborn. Have you seen the way you try to resist her puppy-dog eyes? You can’t even handle Willa when she does her sad little face, and you know it."

He groaned. “It’s my kryptonite. I’m weak. I’ll admit it.”

“Good. Because that means you’re finally accepting that she’s the boss around here. We’re just along for the ride.”

Rafe chuckled, nudging you back. “If that’s true, then I’m okay with it. Besides, she has the best team behind her, right?”

You smiled softly, watching Willa scoop up a handful of sand and drop it like a tiny little sandstorm. “Right. And we’re the best team for her.”

There was a pause, a quiet moment where both of you watched Willa. The future was still uncertain—life always was—but for the first time in a long time, it didn’t seem so scary.

“Well,” Rafe said, standing up and stretching, “I guess we better go make sure our future crime boss doesn’t eat the sand. You know, for her health.”

You snorted, laughing as you stood too. “You mean for the safety of our sanity?”

“That too,” Rafe said, laughing as he grabbed your hand and pulled you into a warm hug.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was real. And for once, that was enough.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

And so, life continued. Chaotic. Messy. Full of love. Your newfound family was far from conventional, but it was undeniably theirs—and somehow, that made it all the more beautiful.

Plus, Willa? She’d definitely grow up to be a world-class agent of chaos, and Rafe and you would have to learn to live with that.

But at least you’d be together.

© 2024 rafeskai | All rights reserved. This fanfiction is a work of fiction inspired by characters from Outer Banks, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[blade-liger-4ever]

Why I feel Jack Darby isn't like Orion Pax/Optimus Prime

This is probably not gonna do me any favors in the wider Transformers community, but that's fine; I don't want to be in the good graces of half those people. Besides, I've grown to really dislike Jack over the years, and now that there's a new TF film that actually shows us Optimus and Megatron's past that has everyone cheering, I can actually cite that film in my argument should I encounter any whiners.

Fair warning, this will not be in Jack's favor.

So, as we see of him in Transformers: Prime, Jack had a really poor life. His dad is missing for reasons unknown, his mother is working herself to the bone to keep the roof over their heads, and Jack himself is working a horrid job to try and lift some of the burden from her shoulders. A standard modern day life for teenage boys, right? Oh, and don't forget him going all gaga over prissy cheerleader Sierra; that's of course the icing on the cake of this cut and dry trope, because the loser boy has to have a thing for the social climber girl who he can't recognize as trouble.

However, when he crashes into the Autobot-Decepticon War, Jack is adamant against getting involved. He whines about his new lot in life, complains that he just wants "a normal life", and overall is ungrateful to the Autobots that saved his skin a short time ago. Yes, he pulled through in the five part premiere and did so at other points in the first and even second seasons - but those were all life or death situations.

Every other time, Jack caved to peer pressure and stayed inside the lines. He never stood up to the school bully, let himself get embarrassed by said bully in front of Sierra, and then broke his deal with Arcee by going to an underground race. Heck, if you ask me, the only reason he helped save the bully in that episode was because Jack didn't want to have a dead guy on his conscience. Sure he said "it's the right thing", but where was that nobility when you were ogling your crush throughout the episode, hm?

And to say that he's like Orion Pax after all of the above is an insult to Orion and Optimus' integrity. Can you truly see Optimus whining over his lot in life, being spiteful and rude to guys who were mean to him specifically and not his friends, or just losing brain cells when a pretty girl is involved and getting himself into trouble in a misguided attempt to impress her?

No.

Orion/Optimus would never do that. He'll take the hits to himself and make the best of it with a smile on his face, he'll fight for his friends rather than himself alone, and even if he's head over heels for Ariel/Elita One, he won't compromise himself or his morals just to impress her. Orion/Optimus is better than that, and would never stoop to such actions.

But you know who would do all of that?

This guy.

As TF One shows, Megatron in his youth was much like - gasp - Jack Darby. They both kept their heads low to avoid further ridicule and pain, they never wandered outside the lines for fear of the unknown/repercussions, and despite advocating for a change or better life, they didn't really lift a finger to do that. They both needed an outside force to push them onto a new path. And they both ended up having a low chance of heroism when there was pressure on them: Jack's was anytime Sierra or Vince the Bully was involved, and Megatron's was when the 'Bot responsible for ruining his life and all of Cybertron's population was at his mercy.

Speaking of, what are the odds Jack would have a similar reaction to meeting his father? Yeah sure, he spared Megatron in S1, but Megatron also taunted him by asking what Optimus' response would be if he killed him. Put Jack in a position where he gets to beat up his dad, and are we sure that Optimus would still have that sway over him?

Just ask Sentinel, he can tell you how well that turned out when Orion Pax tried talking down D-16 - oh wait, you can't, because D-16 killed him.

Honestly, there are far more similarities between Jack and Megatron than Jack and Optimus. I'm tired of Jack getting all the love and being heralded as Orion-like or Optimus-like when he never was. He's far closer to Megatron, and if I'm the only one who can see that, fine. I don't care.

These are my observations, my beliefs, and I'm sticking with them.

Now on the same token (but coming later), Smokescreen actually has more in common with Orion Pax/Optimus Prime, something the new TF flick has shown, even if I disapprove of a chunk of the writing and characterization in it. But, given I'm probably setting some people's hair on fire, I'll leave you alone for now to digest this post.

Good day, and remember:

"Autobots, transform and roll out!"

[pullupinarari]

Lean your weight on me [LH]

6. I always wanna die (sometimes)

Summary: a 9 chapter series where you are a famous singer, living the career of your dreams. But your chaotic schedule makes your body give in, making you lose your memory and forget (almost) everything.

Author’s note: I’m back with the series! Thank you for waiting for me to figure out my chaotic life 🙂‍↕️ this is sad and intense, get ready 🤧 hope yall enjoy it! Mwah

wc: 5146 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

all chapters here

It’s been a while since you’ve felt like yourself - if you even know what “feeling like yourself” truly means. You’ve had some good days before. And whether the days were good or bad, you had Lewis by your side. You were slowly recovering, making improvements while working to get your memory back. You would laugh, your eyes would shine with curiosity and amusement as Lewis would tell you all the stories about your old life. All of this happened before you felt like you were drowning in your sorrows, in an empty mind that brought nothing but misery into your life, dragging everyone around you into the deep end with you.

You can’t help but blame yourself every single day, trying to keep pushing even if you feel like a million thoughts and emotions are slowly choking you, until you finally run out of air.

You reached out to Grace after the whole cake situation, wanting to make amends after acting like a bitch to her. You know you hurt her feelings, and there was a possibility that she wouldn’t forgive you - not even wanting to look you in the eyes ever again. But that’s not Grace. Grace has a kind heart, and she still loves you as if you were 14 years old again. So she gave you another opportunity, wanting nothing more than to have her best friend back.

She is driving you to the shopping center - maybe a day out would be nice? Maybe it will help you, distract you from the darkness erupting in your brain, growing more and more each day. Plus, you feel like having some time away from Lewis might be good for you. Don’t get me wrong, you love him to death - you feel it in your bones, with the way your heart flutters every time you hear his voice, how his stare on you can make your stomach flip, and how you absolutely dread the thought of him being in danger, or something happening to him. But, it feels like you aren’t made for him anymore. You can’t shut out the thoughts that keep telling you to leave him, that you need to let him go - he deserves to be free from all this.

You clear your throat as a way to stop thinking about all this again, looking at the tall buildings through the car window as you pass by.

“Everything alright?” - Grace asks you, taking her eyes off the road for a second, focusing on your empty expression.

“Yeah, everything is fine” - you try to convince her, “I’m just really happy and relieved that you decided to give me another opportunity. I’m sorry again, but it really feels like I’m fighting myself and my mind, while trying to move forward with life. It’s been rough” - you admit, your head hanging low, embarrassed of your current situation.

She gives you a simple smile. “It’s not your fault, don’t blame yourself. Life has been tough, but you are the strongest person I know. You might not remember this, but you are a fighter, you have been your whole life, and we are not letting you give up now. We are here for you” - she holds your hand after she parks the car, making her words echo in your mind.

Walking inside an enormous shopping center makes you feel small, confused and lost, not knowing where to go. What are your favorite stores? What type of clothes did you buy before? Right now, you only want to feel comfortable, choosing a lot of Lewis’ shirts as an impulse - they are loose, cozy, and they smell like him. And even if his scent is enough to make your heart grow, it is also enough to emphasize the way your stomach drops, everytime you think about your marriage.

Either way, you follow Grace - she definitely knows where to take you, what clothes to show you, and as time goes by, you start to feel lighter, forgetting about all the bad moments that have been staining you lately. Your best friend cracks jokes that make you laugh, you try on some clothes that make you feel pretty, helping you see yourself in a whole new light.

But, when you two decide to head out to go get some ice cream, a group of teens approaches you with their phone cameras flashing you, screaming your name, and it’s like a volcano erupts inside of you.

How do they know you? Why are they taking pictures of you while you are having ice cream with your friend? You are scared, shaking, not knowing what to do, and Grace politely asks them to leave you alone, shielding you from them. Then, she grabs you by the arm, pulling you into the exit with her, leaving that place and taking you back to the car, as she sees your desperate state.

Once you sit in her car again, you close the door next to you and you finally feel safe, far from everyone else. You let yourself cry, trying to find a way to let go of all the emotions suppressed inside of you.

Is this how your life was before the accident? Did people disturbed you anywhere you would go? Would you ever be able to live a normal life?

The thudding in your chest grows bigger and bigger, making you hold on to the car handle for dear life as your head feels dizzy, while tears keep streaming down your face.

And it’s like a snowball that comes crashing down: you started crying because of the fear you’ve felt near that group of people, a million thoughts racing through your mind about your old life and how little you know about it, and you can’t help but wonder what part you play in all this, in this new life that you have now.

The more you think, the more you cry, your breathing getting caught in your throat making you struggle to catch some air. Grace hands you a bottle of water, “breath in and out, slowly”, she tells you, trying her best to help.

“What the hell just happened?” - you manage to get the words out after some sips of water.

“Those people recognised you and were trying to take pictures of you. Maybe they are your fans, you are famous, after all. Your life is splattered on the internet” - she reminds you. And it’s so crazy to hear someone saying that you are famous. Millions of people around the world know you, they know a big part of your life, and yet, you don’t know who you are.

After a while, you calmed down, and Grace thought it was better if she drove you back home - this was already enough emotion for today.

You walk inside your empty house. You knew that Lewis wouldn’t be home, he went out for a work meeting while you were supposed to be with Grace - he would probably have a nervous breakdown if he knew that you were home alone now.

You rush upstairs, entering your closet, searching every drawer. Your mind feels heavy with the need to understand how your life was before, and you know that your phone will have all the answers that you need. So you look for it, remembering that Lewis mentioned something about keeping it inside a drawer or something similar. Your movements are fast, racing as much as your mind right now, your fingers trembling with anxiety to find it.

And when you do, you look at it for a few seconds, having second thoughts, wondering if you should really do this or not. You gulp, feeling sure that you need to know who you were before. You grab the device and sit in your bed, your hands shaking as you hold it, the weight of everything you should know about your old life is inside of it.

You unlock the phone, your face is still the same, even if you don’t remember any of your passwords, and you silently thank technology for that.

Your eyes analyze the apps on the screen, it’s like an infinite world that you could get lost in. You decide to click the messages icon first, furrowing your eyebrows to the fact that you have more than 400 messages to answer. But you don’t feel like opening chats with people that you can’t remember. Instead, you open the chat you have with Lewis.

You never thought you could find such great comfort in reading the messages you shared with your husband. The way his words always seem right, caring, worried, the way he would always say how much he loves you.

But you also note that the last few messages that you guys sent were negative, in a much heavier tone, and you were talking about how tired you were feeling, how you couldn’t take it anymore. You proceed to look at your camera roll, scrolling through a never ending folder of moments in your life.

You see a lot of pictures with Lewis, and it’s incredible how you always look so happy next to him. You laugh when you see some funny, silly videos that you two have recorded together. You see pictures of you with people that you supposed to be your friends, family, and a lot of what seem like ‘work pictures’: there’s pictures of setlists, new lyrics written on a paper, empty arenas, sold out stadiums. You see pictures of yourself performing night after night, and you can’t help but notice the degradation in your state, as the pictures show a more recent date.

The last picture was taken on the last show you gave, the one before you blacked out. You zoom in on your face, your finger unconsciously caressing your features: your skin looked so pale, your eyes looked small and tired, and you genuinely looked so sad and defeated.

When your fingers close the camera roll, you search for new information, and that’s when your eyes land on a folder: “social media”.

You are hesitant to click on it. You know how Lewis always says that people spread a lot of lies and hate on social media, Grace’s words echo in your head, telling you how your life is all over the internet, and the thought of what you might find scares you.

But still, you open the folder, opening your instagram page first. Scrolling through it, you see the type of pictures that you used to post: concert pictures, photos of you supporting Lewis on his races - letting you know that you were, indeed, used to the environment surrounding you during race weekends, domestic posts about your married life. You take lots of mental notes about your life before, hoping that your small memory will remember all this.

You open the comment section in some posts, seeing how people used to be so kind to you, complimenting you, declaring their love for you, letting you know how much your music meant to them. Reading all those caring messages makes your heart grow - maybe that’s it. That's your path. Maybe your purpose in life is to help other people, by sharing your feelings through your music, seeing how your fans relate to your emotions and how it makes them feel seen and understood.

You open twitter next, hoping to find more positive messages. But, as soon as you open your profile and read all the comments, the posts that people are tagging you in, your stomach drops. It’s like a dark cloud stops above your head now, and a storm is about to wreak havoc inside of you.

It doesn’t take long until it starts raining - tears run down your face as you read some of the meanest comments you can find. People talk about your accident, they spread rumors about you cheating on Lewis? You don’t understand how people can act so differently on different platforms. Instagram looked like a fun, safe space, where you could share your life with your fans and get nothing but love back. And twitter looks like a war zone, where you are fighting all by yourself and everyone else is against you.

It’s like you can’t stop reading all the negative stuff, your finger keeps scrolling, your eyes keep reading every hate comment that you can find. It’s killing you to know how people feel about you, all these negative feelings hitting you like a ton of bricks. And the sense of revolt comes. How is it possible that you saw all this happening and yet, you never said a thing? You never stepped up for yourself, put an end to this?

Maybe you are just a puppet in everyone’s life. Maybe you’re here to do as you’re told: another show, another song, another comment - shut up, don’t you dare say a thing because that will ruin your image. Just sing and shut up.

You can’t help but feel like you’re not useful anymore. Like you already gave everything that you had to give. Your mind feels chaotic, like the worst place where you could be right now, but unfortunately you can’t escape it.

You sob into your pillow, letting it all out, and you’re so taken away by your emotions, that you don’t even hear the front door opening, revealing that Lewis was home already.

Your husband walks inside, going straight to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, taking it slow since he believes that he’s home alone. But, when he gets closer to the stairs, he’s taken aback by the muffled sounds coming from the top floor.

He rushes to your shared room, to find a crying wife, sobbing into the pillows so your cries get muffled - hoping no one would hear you.

Lewis immediately engulfs you in his arms, worry paints his chest as he hears your sobs grow louder as you feel yourself being held by him.

“My love, what’s wrong?” - he asks you in a calm tone, only to end up not getting a response from you, besides a sob. “Please, tell me what got you in this state. Let me help you, please” - he says again, his voice croaking, feeling emotional as well, his heart breaking at the sight in front of him.

You continue crying, feeling everything so intensely inside of you, wrapped up in your own head. But you gather the strength inside of you to hold yourself to Lewis, your grip tightening on him as you try to look him in the eyes, only to end up failing. You feel way too embarrassed by all this, and you wish that he wouldn’t have to see you in this situation.

“I’m sorry” - that’s all you blurt out, hiccuping as you feel all the wet tears streaming down your features.

“I don’t know what happened, but I’m sure that you have nothing to apologize for, my love. Please, just tell me what’s going on” - he tries to insist, growing anxious now.

He opens the water bottle that he was holding before and hands it to you, signaling for you to sip on it. You do it, trying your best to stop your sobs now, scared that Lewis might get annoyed by having to deal with you - your mind is a never ending creator of negative thoughts.

After some minutes, you manage to stop your sobs, and you take some deep breaths while a few tears keep spilling from your eyes, silently now. He carefully wipes them with his thumb, as he kisses your temple, still holding you close to him.

“Everything is just very, very confusing, and very hard for me lately” - you open your heart to him, seeing how his facial expressions soften at your words.

His hands rub your back gently, comforting you as you gather your thoughts to let him inside your mind just a little.

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take” - you take a deep breath. “I feel like I stopped making progress a while ago, and now I just feel so empty, but full at the same time - full of rage, frustration, anger. And I can’t stop myself from being consumed by all this, and I feel like it’s killing me. It truly is killing me. I can’t stand myself most days. The sound of my own voice annoys me. I hate myself. I hate my mind because the voices in my head never shut the fuck up and I just want a break. I want to have some silence inside of me, I want to be alone, everyone keeps reminding me that I lost my memory. I wish I was all alone because then, I wouldn’t have to force myself to remember old things. I don’t even know who I was nor who I am, but that doesn’t even matter anymore. I don’t matter anymore.” - you sigh, feeling like a weight left your shoulders when those words leave your mouth.

Lewis stays silent for a minute, speechless at what he just heard. He knows things have been hard, but he didn’t think that it was so bad. Listening to the love of his life saying that she doesn't matter, that she wants to disappear, it’s a bullet hitting him right in the heart. He quietly breathes, trying to keep some tears from falling - he needs to stay strong, for the two of you.

“I’ll be right back” - he says, kissing your head before leaving the room, leaving you with a curious Roscoe, staring at you from the ground.

He’s back before you know it, entering the room with his laptop in his hands. You furrow your brows at him, but he doesn’t say a word. Instead, he just joins you on the bed, signaling for you to sit on his lap as he puts the computer in front of you.

Your eyes follow his every movement, as he opens a folder of videos - the videos that you have been recording through your journey. He starts playing the first one.

“See this girl? This was the first video that you recorded. This was a month ago, Y/N. Four weeks ago, you didn’t remember anything about your parents, and now you remember how their house looks, you remembered your dad’s birthday. And you were so scared to open up and to talk to other people, and now you go out with Grace, and you even take my mom’s calls when I’m showering, and you’re not afraid to talk to her anymore” - he explains, moving to play a different video.

“And this one, baby, this was two weeks ago. You thought you didn’t know how to play the piano anymore, and your mind remembered all of it after I showed you a few chords. See? You’re still the old you, you just need some pushing until your mind gets there. Because you definitely have it all inside of you, things like these just take time, my love. We can’t rush something as important as getting your memory back” - he tries to explain, his voice sounding as sweet as cotton candy to your ears, as always. “And you have come so far in this journey already my love, and I’m so incredibly proud of you” - his words sound full of honesty.

You look him in the eyes, and he can read you so well. He can see how insecure you feel, all the doubts in your mind, the way your heart feels weak and fragile. And how badly he wishes that he could take all of that away - he would rather have the pain all to himself, than to see you suffering so much.

Then, his eyes notice how your hands try to hide your phone under a pillow, trying to distract him by calling Roscoe’s name. Lewis sighs to himself, now realizing what made you cry so much.

“I just don’t want you to feel like you have to keep things from me, like you have to do it all by yourself. Cause you don’t. I’m here for you, and nothing else matters. It doesn’t matter what other people say, it doesn’t matter what might happen in the future. It was always me and you, the whole time, and that’s how it will always be. I’m here for you, so please don’t shut me out” - he says, taking your phone from under the pillow now, letting you know that you got caught.

“Nothing that you saw here matters. The rumors, the comments, the hate. None of it matters. What truly matters is the people who love you, that are by your side through it all, that give you unconditional love. Nothing else is real, baby. Our love, our family, our protection is real. And you can’t focus your energy on people that definitely don’t deserve it” - he puts your phone on the bedside table now, seeing how your face is filled with guilt and shame. His thumbs caress your features as his hands cup your face, drawing a trail of kisses from your cheeks, to your nose, reaching your forehead, making a small smile appear on your lips.

There he is again: being an absolute angel to you. And there’s the big siren in your head, reminding you that he’s way too good to you. You don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve him, not after everything that you’ve put him through.

“Lew, can you leave me here alone for a bit? I have a headache forming, I need to process all this” - you say gently, not wanting him to feel like you’re pushing him again - while you are, indeed, pushing him away.

He gives you an understanding smile, nodding as he kisses your forehead once again. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me” - he says before grabbing Roscoe and taking the dog with him.

You take a minute to actually process everything that he told you. Your mind fills with thoughts and a few memories that you have - from all the pictures, the messages, the moments you’ve shared with Lewis for the past couple of months. You can’t shut the feeling in your gut that tells you that you should figure out your life on your own, and stop dragging him to the mud with you. You saw how his eyes were glossing when he was talking to you, you see how your health is taking a toll on him. The truth is, you’ve been needing a lot of attention, as if you’re a baby, needing all the maintenance possible. It’s like he can’t take his eyes off of you, or else he would find you doing something stupid - like he did just now.

You get off the bed, entering the room next door where your piano is placed, looking like it’s eyeing you, telling you to play it. Maybe that will help you get rid of some hard feelings. And just like Lewis told you before, it really comes naturally to you.

All it takes is a few chords until you feel the melody vibing inside of you, forgetting about the world surrounding you as you start singing about all the chaos that’s going on inside of your mind. You sing your heart out, letting some tears escape as you address your marriage - such a hard topic being accompanied by a graceful melody. Your words sound beautiful, but they hold a harsh meaning behind each one of them: how you should let Lewis go, how you’re not good enough for him, and how you feel like he does everything he can for you, but he can’t save you from all this, no matter how hard he tries. You mention your will to be by yourself, to find yourself in a new life, maybe even with the possibility of finding a new lover in a new place.

When you stop playing, you look up, cleaning the tears from your face, and that’s when you notice a crying Lewis leaning against the door. His facial expression lets you know that he was there all this time, listening to every single word that left your mouth.

You’re unable to speak, you two being wrapped in a suffocating silence, just exchanging sad, disappointing looks. Maybe this is proof that you shouldn’t be together anymore, and when Lewis turns his back at you, stomping through the stairs like he had lost all the reasons to keep pushing, your head hangs low.

You feel ashamed of your behavior, your actions are mirroring the desperation running in your veins, trying to find yourself. But it seems that, the harder you try, the more you actually lose yourself. And maybe it’s time to go search somewhere else.

You get up from your seat in a rush, sensing a shot of adrenaline racing through you. You run downstairs, finding Lewis in the living room, his hands in his eyes as he tries to control his tears.

He looks up at you when he senses your presence. He doesn’t dare to give you a word, while your breathing is accelerated as you gain the courage to say to him exactly what is going on inside your mind.

“Lewis, I think it’s better for me to leave this house” - you quickly say, and the anxiety in your stomach grows when you see his expression: he’s empty, confused, hurt.

“What do you mean?” - he questions slowly, getting up from his seat now, to meet your height.

“I can’t be here anymore, I need to find myself in a different place. I can’t be here” - you explain, walking through the space in front of him now, feeling way too electric to stay still.

“Listen, I know this has been very difficult - for both of us. But we can overcome this, we can go anywhere else then if you want to-” - you immediately cut him off.

“No! Not ‘we’, I don’t want you to come with me! I want to be alone, I want to figure it out by myself! I don’t need a babysitter Lewis, you need to let me go!” - you scream while tears run down your face now, making you run to the front door, trying to get away from this place as soon as possible.

It’s like you feel a rush of energy that’s telling you that you don’t belong here. You don’t know where you belong, but you need to act like a grown woman and stand up for yourself. You bet to yourself that you were a wild soul before meeting Lewis, and you need to find that freedom again. You need to find your wings, and maybe that will help you fly far, far away from here.

You find yourself outside, opening the gate of your house to step into the streets - you surely have somewhere to go… right? Your legs stop you for a second, your eyes looking everywhere around you, your brain trying to find a route that you can take on, on a mission of finding a place that you might recognize.

The cars passing by are driving fast, the wind is hitting your face, messing with your hair, almost making you lose your balance since you feel so lightheaded. You have nowhere to go. Your cries grow stronger, feeling absolutely lost, abandoned by life, in a world that you don’t know.

Some vehicles honk at you, since you’re standing on the edge of the sidewalk, and that’s when Lewis’ arm pulls you close to him, his hands go to your shoulders, trying to shake some sense into you.

“Y/N! What are you trying to do?! What the fuck is going through your mind?! Look, I know I’m not perfect, and I don’t mean to paint you a perfect picture of our marriage. I wasn’t always good to you, we have our problems, I did some things that I regret! But you can’t do this! You can’t just leave and try to figure it all out on your own! Sometimes we need to put our guard down for a while and let others take the wheel. And you need to trust me enough to let me do this, because I am not letting you go, no matter how hard you try” - he tells you, his voice rising without him even noticing - his heart is racing at the thought of something happening to you.

You feel breathless, still looking everywhere around you, almost with no reaction at all. When your eyes land on Lewis’, you realize that he is everything that you have, everything that you know. You hug him tightly, sobbing into his chest, hiding your face from him after another action that you’re not proud of.

“Please, please don’t give up on me. Please” - you beg him, your arms tightening around him more and more, afraid that he will be the one running away now, once you let him go.

Instead of leaving, Lewis holds your body next to his. Tears are now running down his face as he stays silent, taking in everything that happened in a matter of minutes.

“I’m so sorry, I know I’ve been making your life a living hell. But please, don’t give up on me” - you repeat the phrase that’s engraved in your memory, after realization hits you: you too are afraid of the things you’re capable of doing now when you’re alone.

It feels like the sun is setting down around you now, and you’re stuck in a dark space, one that makes you keep losing your light and your mind more and more - that’s life for you lately. And you feel like Lewis is the one that allows you to hide in him, the one who puts you to sleep every night, the safe source of peace and protection that you can always run to.

“I love you, I love you more than anything and I know I should set you free” - you say between hiccups and rushed breaths. “I should let you go, and I want you to go and be happy without me, but I need to be selfish now and beg you please, don’t go. The chaos is all in me, and you’re the only person who’s been helping me calm it down a bit. I know I make everything ten times harder, but please Lewis, please. Don’t leave me” - your fists tight around the fabric of his shirt, regretting all the shit you told him before, definitely biting your tongue and tasting your own venom now.

And how lucky you are that Lewis holds the purest form of love for you, being capable of turning the world upside down for you. No matter how hard things get, no matter how badly you try to push him away, he could never hold a grudge against you.

Instead, he kisses your head gently, promising you: “I will never give up on you”.

———

taglist: @illalwayswaitforyourlove @literallegendicon @goldenroutledge @scenesofobx @irishmanwhore @forza-charles @felicityforyou

[marigold-hills]

@wolfstarmicrofic | August 25th: win | 1000 words

CW: attempted mugging, mentions of broken bones

Remus Lupin is well aware what he looks like: the wrong side of lanky, with a nasty scar across his face from falling off a bike at five, and a nastier one down his sternum from heart surgery at fifteen. Weak knees, weaker ankles. Breakable wrists. He surrounds himself in soft things, wears sweaters and cardigans even in the summer, when his varied blood deficiencies keep him cold in the heat.

He doesn’t usually go out in the dark. His library desk job keeps his work hours to a respectable 9-to-5, and he’s not one for bars, or clubs, or any other sort of entertainment that would require him to be out in the evening.

Today? Well, there was a book signing at the library. It run late, and he was having a nice chat with the writer, managing to keep his fan-boying to a minimum (it was the James Potter, after all). There was wine, which he doesn’t usually partake in. So: it’s well past his work hours, he’s pleasantly buzzed and on a high from a successful social interaction. Then he sees him.

It’s probably the most beautiful human specimen Remus’ has ever seen. He was stunning in the library, where he accompanied the James Potter for the signing, and he is just as lovely now, in the dim unflattering streetlamps. The hair, the bone structure, the shoulders. Everything about him made Remus decide not to say a single word to him, only gape half-open-mouthed and watch from across the room.

(Doing it now, as he as good as follows him down darkened South London streets, feels roughly stalkerish. Again, Remus knows what he looks like. He’s got too big ears and slightly too big front teeth and definitely too big a nose. He wouldn’t even try to talk to someone like this, not for all the embarrassment in the world.)

Remus is slower, especially with the crutch he has had to use since he broke his ankle a month earlier. His foot is still in the awkward boot-cuff. There should be no way of him catching up, so no chance of an interaction, successful or, more likely, otherwise.

Out of the shadows, appears a figure. Hooded, wide-shouldered, knife-wielding. The beautiful friend of James Potter doesn’t notice until the man is almost on him, knife pointed at the Nirvana logo on his T-shirt.

Remus can’t hear what’s said, but he doesn’t really need to. He’s lived in South London all his life, from Lambeth to Peckham - he’s seen his fair share of muggings.

Something comes over him. Maybe the late hour, maybe the wine. Maybe the impossible wrongness of a man so pretty being in such a situation. Whatever it is, before he even thinks about it, he’s somehow caught up.

Next thing he knows, he’s behind the mugger.

Next thing after that, the heavy, metal leg of his crutch makes heavy, violent contact with the side of the mugger’s head.

He falls to the ground in a heap of limbs and dark fabric and dropped knifes and for a terrible second Remus thinks:

“Fuck. I think I killed him.”

Through the wine-haze or adrenaline-haze, or maybe your-dodgy-heart-finally-gave-in-haze, he realises he said it out loud.

The pretty man leans down and checks the muggers head, then his pulse. “He’s fine. Well. He’s probably concussed. That was a mean hit,” he looks at Remus with something like appreciation in his eyes. “Thank you, Remus. Lucky you were here, or he’d have probably made off with my phone.”

“You know my name?” Remus asks rather dumbly. The answer is obvious and self evident because the man just said it.

“Of course I do. I’ve been watching you all night,” the cheekiest smile Remus has ever seen. The man prods the prone mugger with the tip of his shoe. “Who knew it’d take something like this to actually get you to talk to me.”

“Huh,” Remus says. (He has a degree in literature, he should really be able to string a sentence together with some intelligence, but apparently it has abandoned him.)

“Should probably call an ambulance.”

And that brings Remus out of his stupor. “You’re hurt?” He just stops himself from checking the man over, hands itching to reach out and feel for the damage.

“For this one. Can’t really leave him just lying on the side of the road.”

“Oh. Right, of course.”

“And they’ll probably arrest him, while they’re at it. Win-win.”

“Silver linings.”

The man – Remus doesn’t know his name – laughs at that. It’s oddly dog like and on another person it’d be too much, too loud, but on him? Perfection. Remus wants to ask to record it. Maybe playing it in the evenings will cure his insomnia.

Adrenaline wearing off, Remus realises that his broken ankle hurts way more than it should. More than it has for a while. The same amount as…

“I’ve re-broken my ankle,” he doesn’t mean to blurt out loud. There’s immediate concern in the man’s face. Remus half-sits half-slumps down to the pavement. “Yup. I’m pretty sure I’ve re-broken my ankle. Fantastic.”

That’s what he gets for chasing down would-be-muggers down the streets of London. It’s probably some cosmic price to pay for hearing that laugh. It must be delirium: Remus thinks it’s worth it.

There are gentle hands on the side of his face, guiding it upward, and gentle eyes full on sincerity. “Thank you for helping me,” the man says again, “let’s get you to the hospital, alright?”

Through the pain-haze or wine-buzz-haze or maybe you-just-assaulted-someone-haze, Remus becomes shameless. “Will you stay with me?”

“As long as you’ll have me,” the man says and the way he looks at Remus? Like he doesn’t have too-big ears and too-big a nose, or the scar, or the hair he can never get to behave.

Remus, more than shameless: “forever, then.”

The laugh he gets in return is somehow even better. There is nothing mocking about it. Instead, agreeable. “Alright. Forever.”

NOTES:

does this count as a meet-cute?

[st4rgzer]

now playing…SO LONG, LONDON (spencer reid)

summary: spencer realizes how much damage he had been causing you.

genre: angst with fluffy ending

cw!: idk relationship problems?😭 also use of y/n and y/l/n (your last name)

a/n: so since y’all wanted a happy ending version! here it is, it isn’t quite like the song but yeah, you guys get the point. masterlist

tension protruded eagerly from the silent room. it was dim, you had left some candles lit but that was it. your cheeks were wet and hot. but somehow you still felt an adamant numbing sensation of coldness. your weary bones hugged your knees, sniffles breaking through the silence.

“how long did you think i could’ve held on” you muttered through your broken voice.

“what?” he lifted his head from in between his legs where he had his hands pressed to the back of his neck.

“how long did you think i could’ve held on to you? were you just going to let me destroy myself, give everything i had just for you to crack a smile?” you spoke loudly now, sharp words that stung as spencer heard every one of them.

he didn’t respond. instead, he just listened. he knew the last thing you wanted from him right now was for him tp talk back, so he let you talk.

“fuck, even my friends said it was not right to be scared! not of you, but of how quickly your temperament can change from one moment to another. every breath that i take feels like im stealing it from you, like- like when i do finally get to do so, its short and doesn’t last long until i have to hold my breath again.”

“do you resent me, spencer? is that what this is? you left the BAU after you got back from prison, and i thought it was to settle down, make me your wife. but you never wanted this, did you?” spencers head perked up. his demeaner changed. he went from attentive and remorseful to stern.

“do not say that. “ he pointed a finger at you “y/n y/l/n don’t you, for a second, think i regret any minute i’ve ever spent with you, i regret a lot of things in my life but meeting you, loving you? i’ve never thought twice about that. you are my number one priority in this life, and im sorry i couldn’t give you everything you wanted, at least not right now. but i promise, i swear on my life, if that even means anything, that i’m going to get better. and i know actions speak more than words, but please, please hold on. i’m not going to insist you stay here with me, but just promise you’ll come back when you’re ready? i love you, y/n, and i hate myself for even thinking that i hurt you.” his tone was indulgent, pleading almost. he had stood up and waved his hands frantically as he punctuated each word, meaning every one. his frazzled hair and big brown eyes kept you at bay.

for a few minutes there was silence as you quietly digested his words.

“do you mean that?” you whispered, fragile, as you looked up at him.

he nodded his head, looking away and blinking a few times. trying to hold in the tears that painfully pricked his waterline.

you sighed, attempting to weigh the pro’s and con’s of the situation, but you loved him. a mental list of the good and the bad wasn’t going to decide the fate of your life. in every relationship there’s hell in heaven, eventually, happiness comes back. all you knew was that this man encapsulated your whole being with nothing more than love and affection, so you knew that this was nothing but a small dent in the glass case that encased the rose that was your love.

you opened your arms, he hesitantly got down to your level. you held him tightly, as if the weight of the wind was to carry him away at any moment. he buried his head in qthe crook of your neck, sniffling as he let out soft sobs, and whispers of apologies.

eventually, the tears ceased. and you both laid there, enveloped. consumed by each other, hands caught in spencers hair from raking through it, as sleep caught onto you. spencer kissed the bridge of your nose gently.

“i love you”

“i love you too”

a/n: guys idk how to feel about this one, this might have been my least favorite so far😭

taglist: @ilovesadiesink @sp3ncelle @lvtilzs @bunnylov-3-r @bellasprettywords

*comment to be added*

[some-stars]

this may be an excerpt from my 2/3 finished origins poolverine WIP, or it may be some other origins poolverine situation that i haven't come up with a framework for yet, but either way. well. here you go

--

"Stop," Wade groans, "fuck, stop."

Logan pulls off of his dick, eyebrows raised. "Problem?"

"Jesus. I'm gonna fucking come, okay?" Wade glares at him, cheekbones gone pink. "And unlike you genetically gifted assholes, I only get one shot at this. Maybe two if I really make an effort, but I'm not sixteen anymore."

"Two, huh," Logan says. Wade's cock twitches in his loose grip. He tightens it. "I think you're going to come as many times as I want you to." And before Logan could even get his mouth back on him, Wade made a noise and jerked his hips and then he was making a mess of Logan's hand, his face turning from pink to deep red.

He comes again on Logan's cock, after Logan finishes inside him and stays hard and keeps going. Logan slows his movements as Wade shakes, until he's really just rocking them together in a lazy grind. He doesn't let go of Wade--stays curled up behind him, one leg hitched up over Wade's, one arm pressed against his chest, holding him--but he eases up on his arm, so he's not holding on tight. Until there's no pressure but the simple metal-boned weight of it.

He kisses Wade's throat and murmurs in his ear, "You want to give me one more?"

Wade shudders, his asshole twitching helplessly around Logan's dick. "I--yeah. Fuck." His breath hitches. A second later, he grinds back against Logan with a moan.

Logan takes Wade's cock in hand, and the first stroke makes Wade keen, a high distressed noise. Logan pauses his hand but doesn't let go. "Too sensitive?"

He can feel the violent tremble that ripples through Wade's body. "No! I mean--yes, but--" His hips rock forward into Logan's hand and he gasps out a whimper. Turns his face into the pillow, like he's trying to muffle himself.

A burst of heat and euphoria and what feels like every drug he's ever tried sweeps through Logan, all over. "But you want to give me one more."

Wade nods. Logan squeezes his cock and fucks back into him hard and takes it, as Wade shouts, then sobs into his pillow. When he comes again he drags Logan over with him, helpless.

[phoenixblaze1412]

I've been reading your works now and then, and i gotta say its all really enjoyable. This is my first time making a req, but i've always imagined dottore not wanting to let his wife go even in death, so he when she dies bcuz of a fatui mission or smth dottore goes 'no☠️' and just revives she and makes her some kind of zombie?? Its the type that has stiches around their body. So dottore can go like 'hey bbg r u hurt let me fix u up!!🥰❤️'

This is based on my oc x canon so don't mind me if im weird. Thank you so much for everything you do!

The Fatui headquarters was eerily silent, save for the faint hum of machines in Dottore’s lab. He stood hunched over a surgical table, his gloved hands trembling slightly as he worked with meticulous precision.

You lay there, lifeless yet beautiful, even in death. The wounds from the failed mission that claimed your life were gruesome, but to him, they were merely challenges to overcome.

"No," he muttered to himself, voice laced with desperation. "I won't let you go. Not now. Not ever."

His segments watched from the shadows, each with varying expressions. Theta tilted his head, curious and unbothered. Omega, the eldest and most stoic, crossed his arms but said nothing. Zeta adjusted his glasses, clearly uneasy but unwilling to interrupt.

“Is this wise?” Zeta finally dared to ask.

Dottore didn’t even glance up. “Wise or not, it’s necessary. She belongs with me.”

The process took days. Dottore refused to rest, his focus singular. He replaced damaged organs, stitched torn muscles, and mended broken bones with care that bordered on obsessive.

Finally, the moment came. With a surge of electro energy coursing through your body, your chest rose as if taking in a breath for the first time. Your eyes fluttered open, hazy but alive. Dottore leaned over you, his mask discarded for once, his crimson eyes burning with intensity.

“Welcome back, my love.”

At first, waking up was disorienting. Your body felt different, your movements were stiffer and the faint pull of stitches reminded you of your altered state.

“I… I’m alive?” you asked, voice hoarse.

“Yes,” Dottore said, a rare softness in his tone as he cupped your cheek. “You’re alive, and you’re mine once more, forever.”

You looked down at your hands, noticing the faint lines of stitches trailing across your wrists. “What… what did you do, Dottore?”

“I saved you,” he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “You didn’t think I’d let you leave me, did you?”

Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but stare at him, still processing your current situation. “But I'm.. different.”

“So? You’re still perfect as ever,” he countered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The segments, of course, had varying opinions about your resurrection.

Theta held your hand and placed it along his cheek, grinning as he stared at you in awe. “Does this mean she’s indestructible now? Can I test it?”

He earned a sharp glare from Dottore and a flick on the forehead from you.

Omega tilted his head and hummed. “It’s unnatural, but.. I suppose it was inevitable, given his obsession. Either way, as long as I am able to see them again. I am fine with it."

Zeta smiled as he handed you a glass of water to drink, looking over the stitches the doctor has done and nodded in satisfaction at how methodically well it was stitched. “At least she seems to be adjusting well. And.. she does make the lab feel more cheerful.”

You smiled and laughed at their bickering, grateful for their unique personalities and happy to have them with you. Dottore deciding to ignore his segments as he focused his gaze on you, caressing your cheek adoringly.

----------

Living as a stitched-together version of yourself was an adjustment but Dottore’s unwavering love made it easier.

One evening as you sat in his lab patching up a tear in your arm, he walked over with a smirk.

“Hello, my love,” he teased, crouching in front of you as he held up a needle and thread up in his hand and grinned. “Are you hurt? Let me fix you up.”

You rolled your eyes but handed him the needle. “You’re so dramatic.”

“And yet, you adore me for it,” he replied, his hands deftly repairing the stitches with the same care he’d shown during your resurrection.

----------

Though your body was different, your love for each other remained unchanged. If anything, it deepened. You had always known Dottore’s devotion ran deep, but seeing the lengths he’d go to keep you by his side was overwhelming.

One night, as you lay together in his quarters, his arms wrapped around you protectively, you traced a finger over the stitches on your stomach.

“Does this bother you?” you asked softly.

He frowned, pulling you closer. “No. It reminds me that you’re here. With me. That’s all that matters.”

You smiled, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “You’re crazy.. going this far as resurrecting me is ridiculously mad.”

“And what of it? You’re mine. Even in death, we shall never part,” he whispered, his voice filled with uncharacteristic tenderness as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

In Dottore’s eyes, you were perfection, stitched together, alive, and irrevocably his and only his.