#but like the actual act of injuring it wasn’t even that bad like

[omgeto]

✩ — 4:21am

summary: gojo satoru is a man of his word, and no matter what, he always promised to come home to you.

cw: minor angst, fluffy ending (I PROMISE) this is for all you sad hojoes out there that just want your man home all in one piece.

gojo satoru is a man of his word, and no matter what, he always promised to come home to you. you didn't actually think much of it, until one night, you awake in panic feeling that something's off. you are used to falling asleep as you wait for gojo to come home, but when you check the time and realise that it was later than usual, anxiety gnawed at your heart.

the clock on the bedside table mocks you with its relentless ticking. each passing second only intensifies your unease. you reach for your phone and check for messages or missed calls, but there's nothing. gojo hasn't contacted you since the last heated argument you had before he left for his mission. it's been hours since then.

you can’t even remember what you fought about, it was something trivial, him forgetting to put the milk back in the fridge, or not putting down the toilet seat—it was dumb. it hurts you even more now that the things you were just berating him for a few hours ago, you were begging for him to come back and do one more time.

fighting back the growing panic, you try calling him. his phone rings, but there's no answer. of course there wouldn’t be you knew that he doesn’t use his phone when he was out, but you just had to try, hoping that he’d sent a quick text to say he was just around the corner—but there was nothing.

you couldn’t help but conjure up terrifying scenarios about him. what if he’s injured? what if he’s been chopped up into little pieces and he’s in pain? wanting to call you and he can’t.

you can't stay still any longer, pacing back and forth in your dimly lit apartment. your thoughts are a jumbled mess, and you can't shake the feeling that something terrible has happened. the world outside is quiet, and the darkness feels suffocating. 

your mind wanders to the first time you met him, he was persistent immediately when he first laid eyes on you, claiming that he would stop at nothing to get to be with you. and that was true. you wouldn’t give him the time of day, at first, but whenever you were around him doing your ‘hard to get routine,’ he put in extra effort just to get with you.

there wasn’t anyone you could even ask to see if he was okay, since if he wasn’t, who else would be? and there’s a part of you that wouldn’t even want to know, you had to see him, alive and well for all your worries to be gone.

as the minutes drag on, each one feeling like an eternity, you cling to thoughts of him, each memory acting as a lifeline. there wasn’t even any indication that something bad happened to him, but there is something unsettling that you just couldn’t shake.

you could feel him before you could even hear the faint tapping at the door. there isn’t any hesitation as you bolt to the door, dragging a weak standing gojo into a tight hug only pulling away as you hear him softly wince at your heavy touch.

“sorry,” he murmurs, standing with his arm clutching at his lower stomach, slightly hunched over, “i lost my keys.”

“you lost your keys?” you practically yell, “that’s what you wanna focus on right now?” you ask as you look at his injured body. this is the worst you’ve ever seen him, and you could tell that he was in pain from the way his usual breezy smile, isn’t reaching his eyes like it normally does.

you quickly usher gojo inside, supporting him as he limps toward the couch. the dim living room lights reveals a deep gash on his face, and his clothes are torn and stained with dirt and blood. 

“take off your shirt,” you order, your face filled with concern as you try and properly assess all his injuries.

“aren’t you gonna buy me dinner first?” he jokes, cringing as you remove his shirt from over his head, trying not to hurt him further.

“this isn’t the time for jokes ‘toru,” you chastise, shaking your head to prevent yourself from getting emotional, “y’know i really thought that—” you sigh, not even wanting to utter the words, since it doesn’t matter as he’s here now, alive.

“i can’t even lie,” he starts, his eyes staring down, avoiding yours. “for a moment out there, i didn’t know if i could live up to my promise to you.” you couldn’t even respond, the fact that gojo could even admit that there was a chance that he wasn’t gonna get back to you, had you panicked.

“c’mere,” he says pulling your into his lap, noticing the stressed expression that has yet to leave your face.

you were quick to jump off of him, but he kept you firm in his hold, his arms wrapped protectively around you. despite the pain he must have been in, his eyes held a mixture of relief and vulnerability as he looked into yours. “satoru you’re hurt.”

but he gave you a reassuring smile, one that couldn't quite hide the pain etched on his face. "i'm okay, really," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear. “i just need you close right now."

as you settled back into his embrace, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips, reassuring you that he was indeed alive and home with you, where he had always promised to be.

AN: SO GUYS HOW DID I DO? im not really a drabble or fluffy girlie, as you guys know. but um tada... this is for you all. love ya. If there’s mistakes in there it’s 6am so ignore em please IF THIS IS SHIT THEN IM SORRY I TRIED. But as long as one gojo lover says “emp you’ve mended my little heart” I can die happy

[indecisivemuch]

Flatline

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader

Summary: A certain hospital equipment exposed Luke's feelings for you (funny, fluff, friends to lovers, banter dynamic, minor injuries, happy ending).

Note: I’m sorry if this is not as good as my other works, writers block + being sick has been killing me.

Word count: 2.7k

It was somewhat strange at first to see Luke in normal clothing rather than that bright orange camp shirt that you’ve grown so familiar with. But after spending four days outside of camp and on a quest together, you’ve actually somewhat grown fond of the sight. You could still vividly remember the moment he picked you as his quest companion without an ounce of hesitation. It wasn’t surprising, considering you two have always made a good team, a likely result of training with each other for three years straight. Nevertheless, it warmed your heart that you were his first pick. 

“Are you okay?” You asked inspecting Luke's wound as he sat against a tree and sighed in relief when you realized the cut was not too deep. 

Just a couple of minutes back, you two were walking through the forest and on your way to the nearest bus stop that could take you back to camp. However, the universe must have thought the long journey was not enough of suffering because somehow, you two came across a chimera that managed to claw your arm and Luke in the abdomen. 

“It’s not too bad. I think we can still make it to the last bus if we just quickly wrap your wounds up,” you noted. 

Meanwhile, all Luke could do was watch you. He knew he should be listening, but how could he when you were so attentive to him at that moment? He hungrily took in the way you were taking care of him in such a worried manner as if you were his personal guardian angel. Part of him wanted to soothe your worries, but he selfishly wanted to enjoy it this time because it was for him. 

“Hey, did you hear what I said?” you asked when you didn’t hear a reply. You turned towards Luke, but was quickly caught off guard. 

There was something sincere and sweet about the way he was staring at you. However, somewhere along three years of knowing him, you have concluded that Luke Castellan must have made it one of his life missions to annoy you because he has never passed up on any opportunities for flirty antics just to see you grow flustered. Hence, you ignored how he was gazing at you, though you scowled at yourself internally upon feeling your cheeks warm up. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” you forced out. 

“Like what?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Luke almost chuckled at how you started blushing from just the way he was watching you. Oh, if only you knew. Luke loved getting your attention on him. He would snatch up any chance just to have your eyes on him or to have you care for him. The boy loved just seeing you blush over his little teasings. It was also fascinating to him how you never realized the true intentions behind his actions. Luke knew that half the camp probably knew that he was absolutely dotted on you from the way he was acting like a five-year-old boy chasing after his crush. Though, you always deemed his words and gestures as playful and jokes rather than genuine.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied. However, the cheeky grin on his face told you otherwise, and you hit his arm in retaliation. “Ouch, is that the way to treat an injured person?” Luke joked.

“You’re barely injured. The wound is not even that deep.” 

“Well…surely, if it’s not that bad, you can just kiss it better, right?” Your cheeks tinted a more evident shade of pink at his words, and you let out a deep sigh before giving Luke a playful glare. He only smirked at this, and Gods, you found that annoying yet endearing at the same time. Meanwhile, the boy was proudly relishing the idea that he was the cause of the blush that was adorning your cheeks.

“Okay, I say, let’s find somewhere safer, and then I’ll disinfect and wrap your wound up, yeah?” You suggested, purposefully deciding to ignore Luke’s previous words.

“Yes, ma’am.” Luke breathed out. 

However, before you could help Luke up and relocate, two hikers spotted the both of you. It was a middle-aged married couple, and you slightly cursed under your breath. As you predicted, they started panicking at the sight of Luke’s bleeding wound and asked if you both needed help.

“Oh no, we’re fine,” you tried saying, though you could see the husband already calling 911. “Seriously, we have this handled,” you tried to reassure them, reaching out to the husband so he’d put the phone down, but the wife touched one of your shoulders.

“How did this happen?” the over-caring strangers asked.

“It was…a bear,” you settled on saying, grimacing when you realized you were less convincing than you wanted. You hoped the woman would not ask for further elaborations because that would require the impromptu level you were not ready to play at.

“The ambulance should be here soon,” the husband informed while keeping 911 on the line, and you abruptly turned to him. Now, your mind started panicking. You two were meant to keep a low profile.

“What? No, he’s really fine. It’s just a minor injury. Look! He’s practically like he always is. Right, Luke?” You turned back to Luke, hoping he’d attest to your words against these strangers. However, you were caught off-guard by the sight of him with his eyes closed instead. “Luke?” you called again, this time louder. Yet, you were met with the same response - utter silence.

Then came the sound of sirens, and the next thing you knew, you were sitting on a chair next to a hospital bed where Luke was lying still. You’ve been sitting there for two hours, calmly waiting for the boy to wake up after recovering from the initial panic over the thought of something seriously wrong with him. The only noise in the room was from the ticking clock on the opposite wall to you, as well as the occasional sound of magazine pages being turned.

“Y-Y/N…?” The quiet sound of Luke calling out your name pulled you out of your thoughts, and you looked up from the magazine in your hand. “Where are we?”

“The hospital,” you answered promptly. You watched as the Hermes cabin counselor looked down at the item in your hand, then back up at your face again. 

“Well, you seem awfully calm. Not even worried at all about me?” You almost chuckled at his words, slightly in disbelief that even after getting knocked out, Luke somehow still had the energy to joke.

“Nah, the doctor told me you were going to be fine. Apparently, it was the mild concussion from knocking your head against the tree that made you pass out. Said you’d be up in like three hours or so.” Luke nodded as he remembered the chimera shoving him, causing him to bash his head against a tree. The boy sat up on the hospital bed, and you helped him by adjusting his pillow so he could lean against it.

“So you would have cared otherwise?” He gave you a teasing grin. Things like that had you thinking sometimes if he was just being playfully flirty or if he meant more. Luke does not seem to do this with anybody else at camp. But once again, you ruled out the theory of him having feelings for you in that way. 

“Only because I would not have anybody else to harass if you die,” You poured Luke a glass of water and handed it to him. He only smiled at your witty reply and took a sip of water. However, you took the opportunity to be honest, just so he’d at least know that you do care about him, despite the sarcastic remarks before.

“On a serious note, though… I’m glad you’re okay, Luke,” you sent Luke a sweet smile. Though there it was again — that look. However, for some reason, he didn’t whip up a clever, flirty line to joke around, which made you wonder what was on his mind.

Meanwhile, Luke felt as if his lungs had lost half its capacity. Gods, under the moonlight, you looked ethereal. It made him wonder for a second whether he was in a coma because you felt too good to exist in this ever-so-cruel world. Don’t even get him started on the way you were smiling at him, so sweet like caramel that his eyes were tracing to forever remember. He internally sighed, wondering how many more signs must he give out before you would get that he was genuinely interested in you.

You misinterpreted Luke’s look as one of vulnerability. Your brain theorized that maybe he was shaken from the chimera attack, so you slowly but surely grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. However, you didn’t notice the slight hitch in Luke’s breath as soon as you did this. His eyes almost fluttered shut at how nice it was to have your hand around his. If he could hold your hand every day, he absolutely would. You started rubbing your thumb on his knuckles as well. Oh, to be somebody you found worth worrying about and caring for. Luke thought maybe he did win the lottery after all. He could feel his heart wanting to crack his ribcage open to jump out of—

Unexpectedly, you heard a sudden continuous beeping from one of the equipment nearby and looked at it. Luke followed your gaze, and his face immediately started flushing over the drastic change in the heart monitor’s graphic representation of his heartbeat. The beeping still continued when you looked back at him with evident concern on your face.

“Woah, are you alright?” Luke tried muttering an affirmative answer but froze when you leaned closer and lightly graced his forehead with your hand. The boy gulped while you were cluelessly trying to see if he was coming down with a fever or not — which you assumed he was due to the way his face seemed to have warmed up. However, you were greeted with a normal body temperature and the sound of the heart monitor beeping even faster.

Suddenly, everything clicked. You cast your gaze on Luke again, tilting your head in amusement.

“Am I making you flustered?” Luke’s cheeks flared even more at your words. The Hermes cabin counselor looked away from you, taking his hand out of yours now as he attempted to slow down his heartbeat. However, you immediately took hold of his face and moved it back towards you. A mischievous grin grew on your face as you took in Luke’s blushing. How could you pass up the opportunity to finally torment him and get him flustered, especially when he has been doing the same thing to you for the past years?

Luke watched as you had him wrapped around your fingers both figuratively and literally, smirking as if you knew you had entire control over him. But he knew you only knew the surface level of it because even he doesn’t know the extent to which he would go for you. The only thing he knew was that he was in deep, deep trouble. He knew whatever part of him that was logical would perish as soon as you let him be yours. Yet he did not seem to mind discarding all his senses and submitting to whatever these feelings were.

“Careful there, Castellan, keep looking at me like that, and I might just have to believe you’re secretly obsessed with me.” You were only joking, but the way his eyes fluttered when you said that made you gulp. 

“And what if I tell you I am?” At his words and the sound of his heartbeat speeding up on the heart monitor, you froze. 

It was as if all the clues had come crashing down at once. It finally sunk in for you that perhaps you were wrong this whole time for thinking Luke was not into you. Because now, this hospital room had somehow become a crime scene filled with evidence of his feelings for you - the way he was intensely looking at you with dilated pupils, the uncontrollable speed of his heartbeat that you could feel where your fingers lay near his neck and pulse point, his shallow and nervous breathing, the beeping sound from the heart monitor that would make others think it has gone haywire, and most of all, the earnest and resigned look on his face as if he had already embraced the fact that his feelings for you would not change whether or not they would be reciprocated.

Your hand left his face to brush his dark curls. Your eyes cast down at his lips quickly before looking back up. You noticed the yearning in his eyes and how he copied your actions. 

“...Can I?” Luke uttered breathlessly as if all the air in his lungs had been replaced with pure, relentless wanting. Even as a victim of heavy longing and subjected to desire, Luke still awaited the green light. His eyebrows slightly scrunched as if silently asking for permission, and you knew exactly what he wanted when he glanced down at your lips again. 

One tiny nod from you, and he pulled you in. His hands delicately held the sides of your face as your lips clashed. Almost instantly, Luke felt as if he might flatline soon from the way your kiss was seemingly sending him into a cardiac arrest. He practically melted as you giggled into the kiss when the heart monitor started beeping even more frequently, indicating Luke’s increasingly erratic heartbeat. Something about this moment felt so urgent yet endearing like a long-awaited wish come true.  

Slowly but surely, he wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you up onto his hospital bed effortlessly, as if desperately needing you to just be closer to him. You both somewhat laughed at this before you wrapped both arms around his shoulders without breaking the kiss. 

One of your hands started playing with his hair. You were not sure why but you pulled it and almost instantly, Luke had to break away from the kiss as a raspy groan escaped his lips. Your other hand on the side of his face and neck could feel the way it echoed as a hum in his throat, and you gulped at your effect on him.

Luke licked his lips as he stared at you again. He came to the conclusion that after that kiss, you were wrong that he was obsessed with you. Instead, he was everything above that - devoted, fervently fixated, infatuated, an addict who shamelessly wanted and needed you. Gods, maybe he was a madman when it came to you.

Your eyes flickered to the clock nearby and noticed it was 4:41am, realizing there was just enough time for the two of you to leave the hospital and catch the next bus back to camp. That prompted you to whisper, “I think we should leave now. If we do, we’ll be on time for the next bus.” Luke groaned at your words while you hopped off the hospital bed and grabbed your jacket. The boy unhooked himself from the heart monitor, though his eyes lingered on it for a bit while a smile grew on his face. 

“Why the rush?” He asked, grabbing his own jacket before opening the door for you.

“Cause as lovely as that was, I don’t want to make out again in a hospital,” Luke froze before grinning at your words.

“Oh, does that mean it might happen again? Us making out?” He asked, watching as a cheeky smile grew on your face despite you opting to just shrug at his question. You fanned your hand out before him, smiling even more when he put his hand in yours. 

With that, you led him out of the hospital hand in hand while he grinned like a fool behind you.

Honestly, Luke would blindly go anywhere you lead him.

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

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[gay-dorito-dust]

May I request BootHill and Argenti with a crush who’s reckless and accidentally confessed due to a particularly bad injury?

Crush doesn’t care for getting injured at all and always brushes off their concerns when they get injured but one day they just get rlly badly hurt and when they try to do the usual

“I’m okay”

It just kinda snaps in the boys?

(Sorry if this is too much)

Boothill

‘You fudging idiot!’ Boothill screamed when he saw the massive gash on your side. ‘You’ve gone and gotten yourself hurt again!’

‘I’m okay.’ You said as casually as you could while trying not to wince as Boothill began to put pressure on your wound to prevent it from bleeding out further. The gash fucking killed but you weren’t about to let him know how much it hurt, you refused to as you’ve dealt with far worse.

You haven’t, actually, that was a fucking lie to begin with.

‘I’m okay’ they say.’ Boothill scoffs, ‘yeah right, you’ve only gone and done it now! For fork’s sake would it kill you to actually act like you want to fudging live for once?!’

He knew you were a reckless spirit for the moment you first met, you were someone who didn’t care how many scars would litter your skin, only caring about finishing the mission no matter how debilitating the pain was. At first he didn’t care to know your name nor your reasoning as to why you act the way you did, but when he started to feel something for you, that’s when he began to worry himself sick over you.

Boothill genuinely wondered whether or not you cared that you lived after each and every suicide mission, you couldn’t be mended or rebuilt like he could, you weren’t invincible as you’d like to this you were and Boothill could only hope that today served as a reminder of that.

Boothill didn’t want to lose you, he couldn’t bare it as he’s already lost his friends, family and his darling Arabella who’s smile so wide you could see the her gap tooth on full display. Arabella was just learning to walk when she was taken from him along with everyone else who meant everything to him; Revenge was his only motive and loosing you would only make him surrender to it a hell of lot faster.

‘If all you’re going to do is shout about how stupid I am then you can fuck off and leave me here to die since I’m such a idiot in your eyes, mr spaghetti western.’ You barked, hating Boothill’s unnecessary comments and hating the worried look within his eyes even more, it made you feel useless and pathetic.

Boothill looked at you as though you’ve grown a second head, lost on how that was the conclusion you came to, you must be delirious from the blood loss. ‘Fork me do I have to spell it out for you- I like you fudging dummy!’ He exclaimed. ‘I’m mad not because I hate you but because you’re hurt and I’m scared of loosing you darling!’ He chuckled humourlessly as he presses his forehead against yours, the one time where he was glad that his face was the last places where he could feel your warmth seep into him. ‘Your recklessness has me on the edge of insanity more than once sweetheart. I mean do you know just how much it hurt to see you like this? I might as well have gone on a tirade and hunt down every son of a nice lady who played a part in your scars.’

You remained in stunned silence.

This confession wasn’t something you were expecting from someone like Boothill, it made you wonder whether you were imaging this for yourself, and the reality was that he wasn’t actually here with you and you were indeed dying alone with no one to provide you company other then dead corpses waiting for you to join them. So in hopes of proving yourself wrong, you lifted a hand to his cheek, watched as he melted against it, his warmth seeping into your skin.

He was here.

Boothill was here and this was real, all this was real.

‘I like you too your silly cowboy.’ You whispered before pressing a tender kiss to his plush lips. A battlefield wasn’t a great place for a confession nor for love to blossom but if that was the case then why did it feel so right for the both of you in that moment.

Later you were taken to medical and Boothill, your official partner, went back to talking your ear off about how reckless you were, but would press kisses to your forehead and hands to let you know that he’ll take care of you from now on.

Argenti hated it whenever you came back from missions injured and your carelessness towards the scrapes and bruises that littered your body didn’t exactly help either.

‘I’m fine.’ You said after spraining an ankle.

‘I’ll live.’ You waved him off dismissively after hurting your side during a mission.

It seemed as though you never held yourself in the same regard as he did, and Argenti couldn’t help but feel his heart break the more and more he witness you disregard other people’s concern, acting though you had a paper cut rather then a wound that wound take you out of action for a good couple of weeks.

So when he found you with your back pressed up against a wall and a deep gash on your leg that made it hard for you to stand never less walk.

‘My beloved rose!’ He cried as he rushed to your side, setting aside his weapon as he inspected the wound.

‘I’m okay, it’s only a small gash.’ You told him but Argenti wasn’t about to hear it, not this time. He wasn’t going to allow you the chance to dismiss him when you were severely injured. So when he levelled you with a stare, you began to wish you could take back your words as seeing such a stern expression on a man as beautiful as Argenti was actually downright terrifying. ‘This is vastly different than a small gash, this is a serious injury that could alter your life’s trajectory for good if we treat it with such disregard as you have done with previous injuries.’ He told you with a seriousness that had you listen to him.

‘And why do you care?’ You asked.

‘I’ve always cared.’ Argenti replied straightforward, ‘every injury I’ve cared. I worried for your health, your well-being, both physical and mental, but you don’t seem to do the same and that pains me because you are so-‘

‘-reckless?’ You cut in, having heard the same thing from pretty much everyone and believing Argenti would be no different from them.

‘-beautiful.’ Argenti said and your breath caught in your throat. ‘You are so beautiful to me, my rose. I have found myself grown quite fond of you in a short amount of time that any pain caused to you might as well be my own.’ He finished as he saw the conflicting emotions within your eyes and prays that you could find the truth within his words.

‘Why?’ You asked. ‘What would a knight of beauty want with a reckless idiot like me?’

Argenti smiled softly. ‘You may be reckless but you are far from an idiot my dear, I like you a lot and I merely say this in fear of a future where I may never get the chance to do so for multiple reasons. Whether or not you accept is solely up to you.’ Argenti felt as though he had finally gotten a heavy weight off of his chest, but felt a pinch of anxiety when you didn’t respond after a period of time, and began to wonder whether this was a smart move on his behalf.

‘I always dreamed of having a knight in shining armour.’ You admitted, raising a hand to cup the back of his head. ‘But I didn’t think that dream would come true until you came along and I knew in that moment I would give you my heart and so much more.’ Argenti breathes a sigh of relief as he rests his forehead against your own, nuzzling your noses together briefly. ‘I’d be more than honoured of being your knight, if you’ll let me.’

You chuckled as you looked at him fondly. ‘I’d be more than happy to my cherry haired beauty.’ You replied as Argenti was quick to scoop you in his arms and carried you to the medics, who told you that you’d be out of action for quite a while and Argenti was more then happy to be your caregiver during that time, you couldn’t be more happier at the opportunity of being with your knight in shining armour.

[pressureplus]

Can you please do Parental Headcannons i've seen romantic ones all over the intermet and they're well written but i crave Parental Seb headcannons i see him more as a father figure☹️

Of course! We here at PressurePlus believe in loving Sebastian Your Way™️, and not everyone’s feelings on the fish are romantic/sexual!

♡Parental Sebastian Solace Headcannons♡

Warnings: Sebastian acts like your dad

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

He wasn’t always standing over your shoulder and fussing over you

He actually didn’t like you at all at first, much like every other expendable

Found you annoying, irritating, and then slowly you started to grow on him

It started with coming in heavily injured and buying a medkit off of him, practically begging to just sit down in the corner of his room for a while

Then asking if you could nap in here since it was the only safe place to do so

Which turned into sitting quietly nearby in his shop in hopes you could just relax for a moment

Suddenly he went from barely tolerating to kind of…worrying over you

Your injuries were nothing to scoff at, and you really did seem genuine whenever you said you just wanted to take a nap here for a while

And suddenly he was worried you weren’t eating enough, having definitely lost weight since the last time he saw you

Sure he never says anything about it

Heaven forbid he be genuine or emotional

Starts giving you food with whatever items you buy, and sometimes he uses the excuse that he just has a ton of extra stuff that’s supposedly about to go bad

This is a lie, check the packaging of some of the snacks and you’ll realize they’re just fine

Makes up some bullshit about trying something new out for his shop if you ask (never gives anyone else food)

Starts to grow softer as the days drag on, enough so that if you do something he’s particularly proud of? He ruffles your hair.

Some of that instinct to protect things smaller than him just happens to encompass you. Is he awful, manipulative, and outright fucking mean? Yes. But he has decided you are acceptable

Therefore he practically follows you around in the vents from time to time

Has probably fought off Pandemonium for you once or twice and you have no idea it even happened

Has handed you a radio to talk with him. He’ll even do special drop offs for you, but ONLY if you have the exact number of data on hand

Don’t abuse this, he will take the radio away. He’s TRUSTING you to be good

“Yeah yeah, I saw what you did. Very cool. I know Pinkie has been bothering you a lot, but I told you it’s not too bad. I was right, wasn’t I? Have a cookie.”

He says it likes he’s insulting you but he genuinely hands you one of those prepackaged cookies

His tone control is good, which means you will almost never hear softness or worry unless you are at the BRINK of death

One day, you’ll manage to get out of here. He doesn’t usually have faith in expendables but he’s got a lot of faith in you. Is he particularly excited that you’re going to get the crystal? No. But a part of him wants you to get out of here

When you get there, and you radio in that you’re standing in front of the crystal he’ll respond with immediate irritation

“What do you want me to say? You’re at the crystal. Don’t just stand there looking dumb, fucking grab it. Thats what you wanted, right?”

You’ll have expected his usual attitude, his snippy tone. What you won’t expect is him breaking the radio silence as you reach in to put the crystal into its container

“I’m proud of you, don’t fuck it up.”

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 · · · · 𝙸𝚇. 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 ║ ⓒⓗⓐⓟⓣⓔⓡⓔⓓ

𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚢𝚜𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚖 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 || 𝚗 𝚊 𝚟 𝚒 𝚐 𝚊 𝚝 𝚒 𝚘 𝚗 || 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x fem!OC/reader

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | CHAPTER CONTENT: this chapter contains a sensitive content warning (please refer to the dedicated warning below), POV switching, soft!Joel, protective!Joel, mental/emotional/financial abuse, trauma responses, high functioning alcoholism, angst, hurt/comfort | WORD COUNT: 13k

| CHAPTER SUMMARY: The storm rolls in.

Please read with caution if you have difficulties with works concerning domestic violence and abuse. This chapter contains several depictions and discussions of graphic violence. Highly sensitive portions WILL BE MARKED with my sensitive material banner if you wish to skip the more challenging portions. The sensitive material banner looks like this:

April Fool’s Day felt like a very fitting start to the month. Every day lately had felt like one massive joke the universe was playing on you, repeating ad nauseam and never letting you forget just how stupid you were. The extent to which you’d fucked things up with Joel had illuminated your shortcomings so brightly that it nearly burned everything else out. You’d gone so full throttle with your defensiveness that you risked severing the entire relationship during your first real fight.

The fact that it was entirely avoidable made it all the more humiliating. Of course, avoiding it would’ve required you to not be so damn defensive over everything, holding things so close to your chest that they ended up crushing your ribcage and making you implode on yourself.  

The shame in the aftermath was almost immediate, starting before you’d even walked all the way home, and it had only flourished since. You’d responded like a child - petulant and overreactive. Like you were nothing more than an injured animal backed into a corner, all bristled fur and warning snaps of teeth before finally striking when pushed too far.

But you hadn’t been backed into a corner, and Joel had simply sought understanding and connection. The trust he’d asked you to grant him was something he’d more than earned by this point, but you had still rebuffed his kindness and treated him just the same as someone acting in bad faith. A brief moment of retrospection made it obvious his usually coolheadedness slipped in the moment after being shaken up by your disclosure about what had actually happened on New Year’s Eve.

Of course he wasn’t himself after learning that you’d been carrying around such a jarring experience. Of course he’d begun to worry what else you might be shouldering on your own if you were capable of hiding such an upsetting event. Of course he’d reacted by pressing you for an assurance that there wasn’t anything else you were dealing with on your own – especially when he was right there and wanted to help.

He’d toed that line for months around you and had finally crossed it no more than a hair, and you’d gone nuclear. It had been too much, but, the further removed from the fight you got, the more you realized it was always going to be too much. It wouldn’t have mattered if he’d walked on eggshells or barged right in with it. Your inability to handle his push for emotional intimacy was inevitable, and you never even put in the effort beforehand to counteract any of your spiraling. You could’ve at least had a plan. You could’ve at least had something to fall back on. But you didn’t. You’d failed yourself and, maybe worse, failed Joel. 

You’d barely spoken to him the entire week following. Too much anger seated in your chest. Angry at him for prying. Angry at yourself for not giving him the trust he’d earned. Angry at all the life experiences you’d accumulated that made it impossible to just behave like a normal fucking person for once.

Just like he’d done the whole time you’d known him, Joel let you dictate where things went from here. He gave you the space you were clearly signaling for, and you wish he’d force your hand. Call your bluff. Not give you the option to avoid him. You wish he’d put his foot down and demand you get over yourself and your pride and whatever else was holding you back. Make things get back to normal. But of course he would never disrespect your autonomy like that. He’d already apologized for poorly vocalized feelings on his part and pressuring you for information when you clearly weren’t comfortable sharing it. 

You, on the other hand, were too much of a coward to apologize.

What if you apologized and he realized just how crazy you’d acted? What if acknowledging your faults only highlighted them to the point he realized you were never going to grow past the broken person you are? What if by speaking on all your shortcomings he realized he was wasting his time on somebody who was too far gone? Too much of a lost cause? Too undeserving of someone like him?

So, you didn’t apologize. You don’t acknowledge it. You just keep the two of you in an emotionally stunted purgatory. When you kissed him good morning and goodnight, it felt so reserved and loaded. It was like all the life had been sucked out of your energy together. Like you’d sucked all the good out of this relationship just like the emotional vampire you were. The shame spiral was hollowing you from the inside out, and you didn’t know how to make it stop.

You were already on week 3 of fucking up you and Joel’s relationship, and you wanted to slam your head into the wall until you stopped acting like this. Why were you acting like this? Not only was it completely draining, but you had put yourself right back into that cycle of not chasing happiness and going after a better life. 

It took every ounce of willpower you possessed to keep your cool with your dad, but your anger was steadily chipping away at whatever sanity you had left because his girlfriend — no, fiancé — Denise had shifted wedding planning into top gear and made it a sort of forced group activity whenever she was over, which unfortunately was happening more and more. She’d been making herself quite cozy in your house lately and especially when her kids were at after school clubs or spring break sleepaway camps.

While you cooked everyone dinner, cleared the table, and started on the dishes, she set up shop right in the middle of everything with her tacky venue pamphlets, hideous color palette cards, pricing charts for cakes, and all other assortment of wedding planning staples. You were looped into all of it by default as you stood at the sink washing dish after dish and putting leftovers into containers.

You bitterly wondered to yourself why she wasn’t the one cooking the meals and cleaning up after everybody since she was so desperate to be your dad’s wife. If she wanted to play house so bad, why not start right now and spare you the chore of all this mundane labor and forced interaction?

It had never been a mystery what your dad saw in her. She was an attractive woman who fulfilled the role of beautiful wife with two kids young enough that they could be “trained up” with a bit of effort. It was the redo for the perfect nuclear family that your mom, brother, and yourself had never been able to uphold. It made your stomach twist to think of how your dad would no doubt take all the mistakes he’d made with you all – namely, not being harsh or strict enough – and correct them with this second try. 

What Denise saw in him became a little more clear with night after night of inane, one-sided conversations she held with your dad somewhere nearby throwing her a bored hum of agreement every now and then. It was clear that she was projecting her idealizations of a man onto your father rather than seeing what was in front of her. The way she didn’t even seem to care if he answered her or seemed interested made it obvious that any man could be sitting in his place. He was her little paper doll to play house and happily ever after with.

She was so lost in her willed delusions that she was missing the writing on the wall. You had no doubt this time around with a wife and kids that your dad’s corrections would be swift and fierce. Denise was so busy projecting her dream life onto him that she didn’t even realize the horrors waiting for her and her children in the near future. 

Would you have to be there to witness your dad destroy another three lives? Would you have to watch him overpower and break down more children? Would you be the silent, complicit counterpart in all this, having learned to keep quiet if you want to survive? 

You start to feel nauseous imagining the looks of panic in their eyes, settling on you to please save them and watching their faces drop and contort when they realize you can’t. You’re stuck here, too. This is your prison, too, and has been for a very long time.

“Are you even listening?” Denise snips.

You whip around to find her looking at you expectantly. Your dad wasn’t sitting at the table anymore. Denise held a trifold pamphlet in her hand, but you couldn’t see what it was about.

“Are you talking to me?”

“Well who else would I be talking to?” she drones with an eye roll. “You’ve really got your head in the clouds today, huh?”

You grit your teeth at her blatant impoliteness but hold your tongue as best you can. “I must not have heard you over doing the dishes,” you say pointedly.

She’s already got her focus on the pamphlet again and hardly acknowledges your remark. “Well put that thing down for a minute and let me ask you about this.”

You rest the soggy sponge on the edge of the sink and dry your hands on the towel hanging from the stove. Your brain was just going through the motions as it tried to multitask and figure out what on earth she could possibly have to ask you about. You’re not sure you’ve ever held an entire conversation with just her. Usually your dad was hovering around, no doubt making sure you didn’t say the wrong thing and incriminate him.

She motions for you to sit without glancing up, and you settle into the chair across the table from her. “Uh, what exactly did you want to talk about?”

“I need to make sure we can count on you for the wedding party. We’re working on the lists right now, and I don’t want to put you on there if it’s going to be a problem.” She pins you with a haughty look and crosses her legs and arms.

You sit in silence for a moment, stunned at the idea that you’d ever willingly take part in this stupid marriage. “Uhhhh, I’m not really sure what you mean by that.”

She rolls her eyes again and shakes her head like she’s already talked this over with you a million times. “What I mean is,” she huffs with a sour look, “the people in your dad’s life seem to have a bad habit of just…. running off and leaving their responsibilities in the dust. I want your word that you are going to actually be reliable and not blow the whole thing off the day of just because you get a wild hair up your ass.”

It takes a while for her words to register. The charge of them felt too audacious to have actually come out of her mouth. Had she really just said that? It barely sinks in before she’s talking again.

“So? Are you going to give me your word that you’re not going to skip town so famously like your mom and Calum?” Her eyebrow is arched so high it almost reaches her hairline. She leans forward and snaps her finger in the air as if you need to be yanked from some inattentive state. “Hello? I’m talking to you!”

“Go fuck yourself,” you say quietly.

“What was that?” she asks, turning her head slightly to hear you.

“I said,” you repeat louder, “GO. FUCK. YOURSELF.”

She gasps and drops back against her chair, hand clutched over her heart. “Excuse me?!” “I don’t want anything to do with your sham of a wedding,” you seethe. “I don’t want anything to do with this entire stupid marriage that’s just going to end up in the gutter because you’re such a shallow, vapid bitch that you can’t even see what you’re dragging yourself and your kids into. You’re a shitty mom and I guess a shitty wife since this is gonna be your second marriage. Failed the first time. Gonna fail again.”

Denise sits in a stunned silence before her look of shock morphs into a furious indignation. You cut her off before she can even think to speak negatively about your brother again.

“So to answer your question, Denise: NO. You can’t count on me to be there. I wouldn’t waste my time on somebody who’s so far beneath me and my brother. Keep his name out of your disgusting mouth and spend more time worrying about what sort of hell you’re about to drag your kids into.”

Your chest heaves with adrenaline, fists balled tight, as she jumps up from her chair and rounds on you. She shoves a shaky finger in your face and hisses, “How dare you!”

You swat her hand away and stand your ground. She’s not much taller than you, and, much to your morbid amusement, she’s patently nervous to engage in such a confrontational, physical way.

“What the fuck is goin’ on in here?” your dad thunders.

You spin around and lock eyes with him. Your face must be a dead giveaway because his own darkens with a foreboding anger. Denise swipes her things from the table and shoves them into the tote bag hanging off one of the chairs before shouldering past you, sniffling loudly, and stopping in front of your dad in the doorway. 

“She doesn’t even show you any respect, so I don’t know why I thought there’d be any for me.” 

She looks back at you with an expression of pure disdain and straightens herself taller. “I’m not staying a single night in this house if she’s going to be here,” she declares before stomping past your dad and down the hallway to the front door.

He calls her name, but she doesn’t stop. Her disregard for his instruction seems to surprise him. He chases after her out of the house and leaves you standing in the kitchen. Your head is pounding, and everything is a little fuzzy around the edges. Your chest bounces up and down with stilted breaths, and your entire body begins to tremble with the realization of what you’ve just done. You hadn’t meant to unleash all of that on her, but something about her mentioning Calum was the last straw.

It never felt quite right sticking up for yourself. You were never convinced it was worth it – that you were worth it. Too much trouble for too little of a person. But Calum? He was someone worth sticking up for. Despite having virtually no interaction at all with him, Denise felt qualified to make outlandish statements and character judgements about him. Maybe she felt emboldened because he wasn’t here to defend himself, but you couldn’t just let his name drip from her mouth like a poison she was trying to spit out.

You hear her car engine roar to life. The peal of her tires sound all the way down the street until it fades away completely. You unclench your hands and run your clammy palms against your jeans. The silence grows louder as you wait for your father to come back inside and address you. Your eyes dart to the back door for a split second. 

Should you run? Did you have time? Could you just bolt and run to Joel’s?

The heavy creak of footfall in the hallway makes you jump. Your dad walks wordlessly past the doorway and heads into the garage. You stand frozen on the spot, bewildered at his decision to not even confront you about making Denise upset and speaking negatively about him. Was he going to make you wait it out? A sort of psychological torture knowing that his reprimand was inevitable?

His footsteps grow louder as he stalks back to the kitchen with a large glass bottle in tow. He eyes you as he takes a large pull from it before setting it aside on the counter. Your fists instinctively clench again as he calmly approaches you. Without a word or a warning, he draws his arm back and forcefully strikes you across the face with an open hand hit. The impact of it knocks you off balance, and you catch yourself before dropping to the floor.

“Get up.” His voice is a monotone, distant reverberation.

You shakily prop yourself up from the tiles and stand up again. Even though you knew it was coming, the second hit still catches you off guard. You crash into the floor hard this time – so haphazardly that your knees are stinging just as badly as your face.

“Get up,” he repeats in the same dead tone.

You shake your head. You lock your vision to the tiles beneath you, too frightened of making eye contact with him should he consider it some sort of challenge of his dominance. You hear the bottle clink against the counter after he takes another large gulp. You track his dress shoes as they get closer.

“No? You can’t face the consequences of your choices?” he derides.

He doesn’t wait for an answer. The thick sole of his shoe connects with the meat of your hip, sending a sharp shooting pain down your leg. Your mouth opens in silent wheeze. Somehow amidst all of this you still don’t want to give him the satisfaction of hearing you scream. He kicks you again, forcing you onto your back, and you stare blankly up at him. The ceiling lights illuminating him from above cast a shadow across his face, but you can make out the hard edge of his jaw where it pulls into a sneer.

The vice grip of his hand encircles your bicep, and he wrenches you up with it just as his other hand balls into a fist and strikes you twice in the face. A shrill noise fills your ears like a bell’s been wrung, and white speckles dance in your vision. You taste the metallic bite of blood before you feel it drip from your nose and mouth. You’re too disoriented to realize you’ve been hoisted up onto the table until you feel the wiry cinch of his fingers closing in around your throat like a vice.

“You think you call the shots,” he hisses. “You don’t call the fuckin’ shots.”

He grips your throat tighter and throttles it for what is probably a few seconds but feels like an eternity.

“ The only reason you’re even allowed to breathe is because I let you.” To emphasize his point, he squeezes hard enough that you start choking and coughing against the pressure. Your fingers work fruitlessly against his hold, and he lets go just as black begins to fog your vision. You scramble for the hallway, your brain screaming at you to run run run. Your entire body snaps backward, and you hazily gather that he grabbed your hair and yanked you downward.

“Running away from your problems, huh?” he tuts. “Just like your mom and brother.”

Your hands are clamped around his forearm, but it doesn’t do much to loosen his grip on your hair where the hold of it makes your scalp prickle.

“Well, you don’t get to give up and run off like they did, so how about we clear a few things up, hm? Here’s how this is gonna go from here on out,” he fumes.

His eyes bore into yours, but there’s nothing more than an angry void staring back at you. Even the vicious wrath and violence consuming him are not enough to bring life to his eyes. You swallow hard and feel the sting of your skin where he’d just been choking you. He jerks you around like a sad little puppet and effortlessly maneuvers you across the room to the sink. Droplets of blood fall and bloom into the dirty water. You plant your hands onto the edge for the tiny bit of leverage you can manage, but he threads his arm through your elbows and captures them behind your own back and against his chest. You can only go where he directs you to go, and that place is head first into the dirty water. 

You gasped as your face plummeted but managed to hold your breath just before the wide cast of his palm held it submerged. You puff out a blast of air and suck another one in the second your mouth rises above the liquid.

“You are going to apologize to Denise,” he spits.

He slams your head under the water again rougher this time, and your face knocks against plates and glasses before coming up again.

“You will not embarrass me.”

You don’t close your eyes in time and get a heavy, soapy wash in them. They sting and burn, but your arms aren’t free to wipe it away. You splutter and wheeze, desperate to center yourself and keep as calm a mind as possible. It was hard to think beyond the primal instincts of catching and holding your breath. Apparently your survival instincts are vexing to your dad because the next time he sends you under, he grabs and twists one of your wrists while simultaneously digging a knee into the soft curve of your inner thigh. You scream at the surprise pain, gurgling and inhaling water in the process.

You’re still shrieking and coughing when he brings you up, and he screams in your ear. “SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

You flinch and whimper but manage to choke back frightened sobs.

“If you ever embarrass me like that again, you might never come back up from that water. Understand?” It’s said like a twisting knife through your ribs, and you wordlessly nod your understanding.

“You realize nobody would give a shit if you were dead? You know how long you’d have to be missing for someone to realize it and go lookin’ for you?”

“Dad, please,” you whisper. “Please don’t.” You’re not sure what you’re asking of him other than to not hurt you anymore tonight.

He huffs a humorless laugh and shakes his head. “Un-fucking-believable.”

He flings you across the room, sending you flying into the table and chairs. They screech and clatter around your bumbling body, and you don’t have the energy to fight the fall. You lie in a crumpled heap halfway under the table and suck in generous lungfuls of air.

“Clean this mess up and fix your face,” he barks before gripping his precious bottle of liquor and ambling down the hall and up the stairs. 

The reality of what just happened begins to register. Your body throbs all over. Your chest is tight, and your breaths feel harder to take. Your body shakes with the effort of getting yourself off the floor. Little drops of blood fall from your nose. You grab up a handful of paper towels and shove them against your face. The applied pressure drowns out the quiet little cries that are wedged in your throat. You squeeze your eyes shut and try to take normal breaths, but the adrenaline slamming through your veins practically demands your inhales barely make it past your windpipe.

Everything hurts. It hurts to breathe. It hurts to move. It hurts to cry. Your mind goes a bit numb as you quietly right the upturned chairs, wipe up the dirty floor, and clear out the sink. Your hair and face drips water onto the floor you just dried.  You can’t say how much time has passed, but it’s dark outside now. Upstairs is quiet. You pray he’s drank himself to sleep. Your mind is chaotic and sluggish all at once, and pulling a cohesive thought together feels impossible.

A deep part of you just wants to go to sleep and not be conscious for any of this. The louder, bigger part of you is ringing every alarm bell in your mind. This was just like the time you thought your dad was going to kill Calum in front of you. It was the same feeling of fear, except this time you held it for yourself.

Calum. He said go to Joel’s. He’d made you promise that you’d go to Joel’s if you needed to. 

You want to. 

You’re going to.

But what if your dad finds out? What if he shows up to Miller Contracting offices? What if he finds Joel’s house? Did he own a firearm? You don’t think he does. But what if he did? Would he hurt Joel for intervening?

Your brain fires off a million miles a minute, but none of it is helpful. Your phone buzzes on the dresser. It’s Joel. You hit the big red button and shoot him a text.

You: I don’t feel good. I can’t come to work tomorrow. Sorry.

He calls again, and you decline again.

Joel: Please answer the phone. Do you need anything? You: I’m ok You: I just rly need to sleep rn Joel: Please call me tomorrow morning when you wake up! You: ok I will Joel: Get some sleep. Please tell me if you need anything.

You set the phone back down and sink down onto the edge of the bed. Your head feels heavy in your hands. Your body gives way and slumps to the floor. You lay there so long you feel the impression of whatever you landed on pressing into your arm. You crawl to your dresser and pull yourself up to look at the clock.

11pm.

You slink quietly to the bathroom and run the tap. You should probably shower, but you don’t want to risk waking your dad. You look at yourself in the mirror for the first time and burst into a fresh wave of tears. You bury your head into a washcloth and cry. You cry until you can’t anymore. The crying makes your face even puffier. You douse the washcloth in ice cold water and press it against your face. It’s not enough to offset the swelling. It’s going to look even worse tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Would your dad even remember any of this in the morning? Worse yet, would he feel like he hadn’t gotten his message across the first time and come back to make a firmer point?

A shudder rolls through your body. You can’t stay here. You can’t be here. He might kill you. He wants you dead. He might try to kill you the next time. There will be a next time. The next time could be the last time. You can’t stay here. You can’t be here.

You clean yourself up as best you can and change into a hoodie and clothes that aren’t soiled with blood. Your hands shake and make it hard to hold the bobby pin steady while you unscrew a few vents and retrieve the small amounts of money you’d been diverting over the past several months. You have enough to stay somewhere for a little bit. You cram what belongings you can into a backpack and threadbare dufflebag. The rest will have to get left behind.

Your head is empty and buzzing. The night air smarts against your busted lip, throbbing nose, and puffy eye. Your legs are a lead weight, each step forward harder than the last. The shed door feels impossibly heavy and strains muscles you’re pretty sure you’ve never used before. The effort of mounting the bike almost makes you cry again. The muscle spasms and sheer exhaustion make it difficult to steer. You bike slowly but surely to the rundown, affordable motel you’d passed enough times to have the location burned into your brain. There certainly weren't enough reserves there to have found lodging any other way.

The front desk clerk barely gives you a second look as she slides you a room key. Paying cash makes things easier. You aren’t even sure the credit machine is working anyway. Her lazy drawl curls into your ear: there’s some vending machines on the righthand side of the building if you’re hungry or thirsty. You give a curt nod and wobble to your room. It smells moldy and is full of dust. You lock the door and collapse into the bed. Dawn bleeds on the horizon.

Joel anxiously passes your house on his way to the office. Nothing seems amiss. Maybe you really were just feeling under the weather and needed a day to rest. Your texts last night were so curt, and the declined calls did little to ease his worry. You hadn’t texted him this morning like you’d said you would. Maybe you were still asleep.

You’d been off ever since that argument. He’d apologized for overstepping your boundary, but things hadn’t gone back to normal. You’d been pulling away ever since. He was afraid you were going to break things off entirely, find a different job, find a new life without him . . .

It’s almost noon, and you still haven’t replied to the text he sent this morning just to check up on how you were doing. The anxiety makes his stomach clench so tight he can’t even eat lunch. It just about bottoms out when you text later that afternoon to say you weren’t going to be able to make it in tomorrow either. You don’t respond when he calls. It rings and rings and rings before going to voicemail. Last night you’d at least hit the decline button and sent him to voicemail after the second ring.

Something was wrong.

To hell with boundaries. He needed to check on you. He needed to see for himself that you were okay. If you were upset with him and planning on breaking things off with him, he at least wanted a chance to beg and plead for you to hear him out and keep trying. He’d do anything you asked. He’d do anything to make things right.

Your dad’s car is in the driveway when Joel pulls up and parks along the curb. He knocks on the door – three firm raps – and waits. A few seconds pass before your dad swings the door open, a waft of grain alcohol emanating from him with the motion. Your dad looks surprised for a split second before pulling his face together into a tight sneer.

“Joel Miller,” he drawls. He drags it out like the punchline to an unspoken joke.

“Sorry to interrupt your evening activities—” Joel deadpans before getting cut off.

“You here to get the rest of her shit, huh?” he scoffs.

The callous lilt in his voice instantly raises Joel’s hackles. Dread pours into his bloodstream. Where were you? What had happened? Were you okay?

“Yeah. S’pose I am,” he responds tightly.

Your dad mutters something about “not brave enough to handle her own messes” under his breath and gestures broadly for Joel to enter. He stumbles down the hall, pausing at one point to steady himself, before waving Joel off into your room.

“S’all yours, pal,” he slurs.

Joel pushes past him and takes in the disheveled state of your room. It was clear that you’d left in a hurry. Anger swells in his chest as he pieces together what at this point is undeniable. How long had you been living in this? Why hadn’t you told him? He’s sick to his stomach knowing he could’ve helped if you’d just let him. He’s angry with himself for not demanding you let him help.

He gathers up what’s left of your things, but there’s nothing to pack it in. He improvises with some plastic construction bags from his truck. 

Your dad hovers and sways in the hallway, snorting loudly at the bags. “Yeah, that’s about right,” he chortles.

“What’s that now?” Joel grits out.

“Couldn't help but-but laugh at the garbage bags. Just very fitting,” he notes with a theatrical shrug. 

Joel shakes his head, not following the wet brained commentary spilling out.

“Garbage for garbage,” your dad clarifies in a nasty tone.

Joel feels like he could grind his jaw to ash with how tightly it's clamped. He’s held his tongue long enough.

“Could say the same about you havin’ nothin’ to offer,” he bites back. “A big nothin’ of a man who has nothin’ to offer either of his kids. Two kids that have done worlds beyond what seems possible considering the absolute shit hand they were dealt with having parents like you.”

The look on your dad’s face sours instantly. “Y’know, I’m not sure what the ‘arrangement’ is between the two of you, but I’ll just say I’m glad she’s somebody else’s problem now. Best of luck with that one. Even her own mom never even looked back when she left. My ex was dumb as shit, but she was smart enough to know neither of those kids are easy to love.”

Joel draws himself up to full height and towers over this poor excuse of a man and a father. He considers kicking in a big patch of drywall in the hallway or maybe even your dad’s head for a split second, just to fuck something up. Just to send a message. Just to show dominance and sow the seed of fear. Just enough to make your dad uncertain of his own safety.

But he doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction or waste any more time here. He needs to figure out where you are and if you’re okay. The last of the plastic bags are shoved into the bed of the truck and into the seat. He starts up the engine and shifts it into drive.

“You got anything to say to her, you go through me,” Joel growls out the driver side window without bothering to make eye contact. 

“Oh, don’t worry. I already cut her line today,” he laughs from the porch. “Should be cut off by now or at least by tomorrow. Couldn’t call her even if I was dumb enough to want that kinda thing.”

Joel doesn’t bother saying anything else. He waits until he’s parked in his own driveway before pulling his phone out and calling you. No answer. He calls four more times with no answer. Every time it just rings and rings and rings until sending him over to voicemail. There’s no new texts from you. He starts to panic.

Joel: Please just let me know you’re okay.

He placates himself with the thought that maybe you went to Kenzie’s. She didn’t live too far away if memory served him correctly. He unloads your things from the truck and haphazardly sets them down in the living room. A work email pops up, but he ignores it. He goes straight for the text notification bubble and breathes a sigh of relief to see it’s from you.

You: I’m ok You: just need to rest more You: hopefully will be better over the weekend You: sorry for having to call out

He stews over what he should say. Were you hiding from him, too? Were you getting out of the city? Where were you?

The same work email comes through a second time. Then a third. Then a fourth. Joel clicks on it and reads the vague, nondescript request from some woman named Jasmine to please reach out to her about an urgent matter concerning her parents’ flooded basement. He hasn’t done a basement in a while. This lady’s gotta have the wrong contracting company, and, by the looks of it, she’s not going to stop pestering him until he responds.

Joel sighs and taps the number she gave. It rings twice before it goes through. He wants to get this conversation over with as fast as possible and send this Jasmine woman on her way and in the right direction of whichever contractor it is that’s actually responsible for her parents’ basement.

“Hey there, just giving you a call back from an email you sent. I’m not sure you’ve got the right compa–”

“Sorry, is this Joel Miller?” she interrupts.

“Yes, ma’am, and I’m one of the owners of Miller Contracting. Like I was sayin’, I think you’ve got–”

“Hi, sorry again, but I wasn’t sure how else to get a hold of you.”

Joel’s throat suddenly feels tight. “Who is this?”

“My name’s Jasmine. You don’t know me, but I’m Calum’s girlfriend. I think you know his sister? That’s why I’m calling,” she explains.

“Is she with you? Is she okay?” he abruptly prods.

The line is quiet for a moment, and then a deflated reply, “No. No, she’s not. I was calling because–”

There’s some muffled conversation coming through, and Joel talks loudly into the receiver. “Hello? HELLO?”

“Yes, hi. I’m still here. Sorry. That’s Calum. He’s a little worried is all. He hasn’t been able to get a hold of her, and—”

The line is a fuzzy static for a few beats before a male voice comes through. “Joel? This is Calum. Man, I haven’t heard from her, and I was trying to think of how to get in contact with you. Jazzy thought of sending the email. You haven’t heard from her? She didn’t respond to any of my texts yesterday, and when I tried calling her earlier she didn’t pick up. It’s not like her. I’m getting fuckin’ nervous, man.”

“She responded to my texts last night and today, but she didn’t say much. Said she needed a few days off from work but didn’t say why. Just that she wasn’t feelin’ good.”

“So you haven’t seen her?” Calum presses, sounding more panicked by the second. “When’s the last time you saw her? Heard from her?”

“No, I haven’t seen her today. I went by your house to check on her, but she wasn’t there. Your dad was shitfaced. Most of her stuff was gone. He assumed I was there to get the rest of it, so I just went with it. I don’t know where she went, but it’s pretty clear she left the house for good.”

There’s a muffled conversation on the other end, and Joel strains to listen to it. Bits of “Calum, baby, you have to stay calm, okay?” and anxious sounding responses each time is all he can make out.

“Joel, man, please–”

“Listen to me, kid. I’m gonna go find her, okay? You listening to what I’m sayin’? You hear me?”

“Y-Yeah, I hear you,” Calum stammers. “I just– you don’t know everything about what’s going on. It’s… it’s not a good situation.”

“I gathered as much,” Joel lightly corrects. “Give me your number and Jasmine’s number. I’m gonna get to the bottom of this and make sure she’s safe, alright? I’ll get in touch with one of you to let you know when I find her, and I promise you she’s safe with me, okay?”

“Thank you,” Calum breathes.

Joel jots down the multiple numbers Jasmine gives him – “just in case” –  and, after giving another round of assurances, ends the call. He takes the time to center himself and calm his racing thoughts. He wasn’t going to be effective in locating you if his mind was shooting off every second. The device location feature on all the work phones springs to mind, but his search comes up empty. He knows someone who could help him figure it out, though.

“Dad?” Sarah’s voice comes through. “What’s up? Shouldn’t you be in bed by now, gramps?”

“Uh, yeah. Probably. Very funny. Listen, I need your help with somethin’.”

“Is everything okay?” she asks, voice shifting into concern.

“Sort of.”

He explains the situation without the more worrisome details and is feeling like he’s finally getting somewhere when she walks him through the steps and helps him locate the dingy motel a short drive away where your location pin is highlighted.

“Dad?”

“Yeah, baby girl?”

“Look, I know I was kinda… I know I was sort of hinting at it with some jokes when you were here helping with our kitchen – and I’m not saying I know everything about your, um, situation with her – but what exactly is the plan? I mean, does she want to be found? Because if you go looking for her but she doesn’t want to be found….”

Her loaded silence hangs heavy over the line. Joel understands. If he inserts himself into a situation where he’s not welcome, he could land himself in trouble or just make things worse.

He lets out a heavy exhale. “I think if anything I can’t live with the idea of her being out there scared and by herself.”

“I get that, dad, but what if… look, just- just be careful, okay?”

“I promise I will, baby girl. I’ll shoot you a text when I get this sorted out, alright?”

“Okay. Just please be careful, and, like, get Uncle Tommy to help you or something if you need it, okay? I don’t want you getting hurt.”

It warms his heart to hear how protective she is. “I’m not gonna get hurt. I just need to get to the bottom of all this. I swear I’ll text you when I get word of somethin’, okay?”

“Okay. Love you, dad. Be safe.”

“Love you, too, baby girl.”

The pitter patter of rain snaps against the window as the call ends and quickly picks up into a full blown shower within minutes. The windshield wipers on his truck can barely keep up with the downpour, but thankfully it’s not a long drive to your location pin. The bright orange doors with peeling paint all look alike in the wet blur of the storm. He can’t even make out room numbers. 

Between the late hour and the storm, there’s not a lot of movement. He considers knocking on doors until he finds you, but he doesn’t much want to get the front desk or cops called on him for disturbing the lodgers. He wants to get out and walk around just to feel like he’s doing something productive, but that didn’t seem like that great of an idea, either. So, he waits. And waits. And waits. The storm picks up and stalls in a waning cycle. A few people answer their doors for food deliveries or step outside for a smoke, but he’s only eliminated a handful of possible rooms that could be yours.

It would’ve taken you a long time to get here by walking, so he assumes you biked. It was unlikely you’d leave that outside, though, given this wasn’t the best area. It was sure to be stolen if left unattended. There really isn’t much separating the rooms from the parking lot and nearby street. The thought of you being here by yourself, practically out in the open, made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. It wasn’t an ideal layout for privacy and protection if your dad wanted to find you and somehow managed to figure out where you were.

You haven’t responded to any of Joel’s most recent texts and calls. He dims his phone and sighs. A crack of thunder makes him flinch, drawing his attention to a dimly lit hallway he hadn’t noticed before. His insides get tight when he starts to wonder if you’d even gotten a room at all. What if you were just huddled up in some random hallway because you didn’t have enough money for a room?

That singular thought is all it takes to get him jumping out of his truck and making a beeline for the flickering hallway. The buzz of old vending machines grows louder as he approaches. A small figure stands in front of the machines, hugging tightly around their torso as they look over the offerings. The smaller frame skewed feminine in build, but it was far enough away that he couldn’t be certain. The last thing he wanted to do was give some poor, unsuspecting woman a scare.

Joel kept his distance and pretended to be on his phone, although he wasn’t even certain the person could see him from where he was loitering between a minivan and a tall truck. They seemed skittish and distracted as they grabbed their dispensed snack and scurried back across the parking lot. He wanted to yell out your name, just in case, but that would frighten the already jumpy person regardless of who it was. Thinking quickly, Joel pulled out his phone and tapped your contact icon. The figure paused just as they got to their door and tugged a glowing phone from their pocket. A quick tap and the screen went black – just as Joel’s did.

The figure slipped through the room door and quickly closed it behind them. It could’ve been a coincidence, but this was the closest thing to finding you that he’d come across all night. With a renewed determination, Joel strode quickly across the lot and towards the room.

The rain had finally let up enough for you to wander over to the vending machines. Your face – along with pretty much everything else – was still sore, but the bag of flavored popcorn you got was as soft a food as you could find to settle your gnawing stomach. You hadn’t eaten or drank much of anything due to the discomfort of moving your jaw and chewing. Your stomach gurgles on cue and reminds you that the tense ache crawling up the nape of your neck is probably going to get worse if you don’t get some water and food soon.

The bag slips from your hand at the first gentle knock on the door.

At first you thought you were hearing things, maybe from low blood sugar or lack of sleep over the past couple of days, but then a second firmer knock came. Your legs froze to the spot. How had your dad found you? What was he going to do? Were the people who’d been staying in the room next door still there? Would they be able to hear you if you called for help? You should’ve answered Joel’s call that just came through instead of hitting the decline button.

“Baby, it’s Joel. Are you in there? Sweetheart, if that’s you in there, please just let me talk to ya.”

A sharp gasp jerks your entire chest as it culls into your lungs. Without even thinking, your body propels itself towards the door and towards Joel – towards safety.

“Joel?” you ask in near disbelief. “Is it really you?”

“It’s me, sweetheart. Been lookin’ for you. Been worried sick,” comes the muffled response.

You begin unlocking the door but pause when you remember the current state of your swollen and bruised figure.

Misunderstanding your hesitance as not wanting to see him, he offers, “I know you want space, but… just-just a minute is all I’m askin’. Just give me five minutes and I’ll be outta your hair. I swear it.”

Your heart plummets to the floor knowing he believes you don’t want him here. “No, it’s not that. I want to let you in. It’s just….” You struggle to find the words. “Listen, I need you to close your eyes, okay? Promise me you’ll close your eyes and keep them shut the entire time.”

There’s a loaded silence on the other side of the door. You can only imagine the confusion of such a request, but you aren’t sure how else to go about this.

“I’ll keep ‘em shut. I won’t even touch you, baby. I swear I’ll keep my distance, okay? I swear it.”

“Okay. I’m– I’ll open up the door for you now, so close your eyes, okay?”

“They’re closed.”

You draw in a deep exhale and brace yourself for the interaction ahead. No more secrets. No more hiding. No more lying. You pull the door open and want to crumple into him right then and there. Big, broad, and safe. Waiting for you. Came looking for you even though it’d been storming for hours now.

You gingerly grasp his hand and lead him inside, shutting the door closed behind you. His nose wrinkles at the damp smell of the dingy room that you’ve become nose blind to at this point. You guide him to the edge of the bed where his knees hit and prompt him to sit. He reaches for your other hand and gently holds them in his own.

“Sorry. Know I’m not supposed’ta touch you. Just need to feel that you’re really here. Been worried about you.”

“That’s okay,” you whisper. “You can hold my hands. You can hold me. It’s okay.”

“How come I can hold you but I can’t see you?” he hedges.

“That’s… hard to answer.”

“Hm. Got anything to do with your room lookin’ like a bat flew outta hell?”

Your stomach clenches uncomfortably. “How do you know that?”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Went to check on you. Like I said, I got worried. Your dad answered the door and assumed I was there to get the rest of your things, which I did.”

“Did he… Did my dad say anything?”

“Nothin’ worth repeating,” he huffs humorlessly. “Just some shit about turnin’ your phone off. Told him if he ever wanted to talk to you he had to do it through me.”

“Y-You said that?”

“Yeah. I did. And I meant it.”

A velvety, piercing thread of emotion weaves around your ribcage at his words, and you’re overcome with the magnitude of just how much this man in front of you cares about you.

He shifts uncomfortably and clears his throat. “I really wanna see you, sweetheart. I wanna see you and hold you. I just need to hold you tight for a minute. Please.”

“Joel,”  you choke out in a flare of trepidation and warning of what happens once he sees you. “You have to promise me, Joel. You have to promise that you won’t have some big reaction. I really don’t think I could handle that right now.”

His brow crunches together like he’s recognizing that whatever he’s imagined is probably not bad enough. “I promise.”

“Okay,” you breathe. “You can– You can open your eyes.”

His lids barely flutter apart before his jaw sets hard, eyes going into a muted fury as he takes in your constellation of bruising and swelling. He dips his head and nods a few times as if he’s gathering himself, honoring your request that he not have some huge response.

“This happen a lot?” he grits in a low, dangerous tone.

You shrug and ignore the hot feeling growing behind your eyes. “Been a while since it was physical.”

“Is he–Did he–Did he touch you any other kind of way?” His question catches like it burned his throat on the way up. He looks up again, eyes boring into yours.

“No.” You shake your head and drop your gaze. “No, nothing like that. Just, uh, knocked me around a little. Shook me up to make a point, I guess.”

“Do you–Are you hurt?” He grimaces at his own inane question.

You shoot him a humorless smile and shrug your shoulders again. “Feel better than I did this morning, I guess.”

“Did you go anywhere? Were you seen by somebody? A doctor?” he presses.

You shake your head and squeeze his hands tighter. “No. Just, um, just came here right after. Got some ice from the machine in the lobby and got most of the swelling under control. Don’t think there’s anything so fucked up that I felt like it would justify a stupid expensive emergency room visit.”

“I’ll pay for it. I don’t care. Whatever it is, I’ll cover it.”

The impulse to reject his offer springs up, but you let the dismissal die on your tongue. If you wanted to honor this newfound trust in your relationship, you had to have the actions to back it up. You weren’t going to hide anymore. You weren’t going to ignore and rebuff ever offer to care for you. You weren’t going to weather the storm alone.

“Only if you’re, you know-only if you’re sure. If you want, we can go in the morning. I’ll go with you tomorrow. I, um, appreciate you offering to pay.”

He can’t conceal the brief astonishment of your amiable acceptance, and it quickly bleeds into elated relief. “Yeah, of course, sweetheart. Okay. Good. Yeah, we’ll go tomorrow and get you looked over. Make sure everything is okay.”

You lean into him, arms vining around his broad torso, and sink into the asylum of his embrace. “Can I stay with you tonight?” you whisper.

His body tenses as he pulls back to see your face, wearing an expression of confusion on his own. “What do you mean ‘stay for the night’? We’re goin’ home tonight, you and me. You understand what I’m sayin’?”

“Your home?”

“No. Our home,” he reasserts. “So let’s grab your stuff and get the hell outta here. Let’s go home.”

You bury your head in your hands in an effort to stimy the swell of emotion threatening to overcome you. He shushes and pries your defensive veil away, laying a tender path of small kisses along your forehead.

“None of that. Not anymore. No more hiding, okay?”

Your body mindlessly lists into his hold, and you allow some of your weight to shift to him. “Okay.”

It’s late enough into the night that the lobby isn’t busy, but that doesn’t stop Joel from constantly glancing up from his phone to make sure you’re alright. He closes out the text window to Sarah and opens up a new thread to Jasmine and Calum before sending them a quick update that he found you, you’re safe, and you’ll be with him. He hesitates to add anything more before discussing it with you first.

Now that he knows it’s you, he watches the skittish, hesitant way you move about. Hugging closer to yourself as you talk with the clerk who looks like the only thing of interest to her at the moment is ending the conversation as soon as possible so she can step outside for a cigarette. He can’t see your face, but just the way you hold yourself looks like some part of you has been extinguished. He hopes it’s just the stress and exhaustion from whatever happened between you and your dad and not something that has taken root in you and altered you. He doesn’t think he could forgive himself for not insisting to check on you sooner if that were the case.

The drive home is hushed and calm despite the frantic energy of relief flowing from you both. When he cuts the engine in the driveway, you reach out and stop him before he can get out.

“Hey,” you say softly. He stills and soaks up your tired, buoyed demeanor. “Thank you for coming to find me.”

He swallows hard and nods, thumb smoothing over your fingers in gentle, tentative strokes. “Thank you for lettin’ me in.”

You both know he doesn’t just mean through the motel door.

“I know it ain’t easy,” he adds in a hush.

You dip your head in quiet agreement. “It’s not. But sometimes it’s easier than others, you know? If it’s–If it’s the right person.”

He brings your hand to his lips and presses a chaste kiss there. “I do.”

He studies you for another moment and nods. “Let’s get you inside so I can get some food in you.”

You don’t say anything about the black bags full of your things scattered about the living room, but he wishes he’d taken a few seconds more to make it look less chaotic. He wishes he knew how to explain to you that sharing a home is something he would choose and isn’t just something that happened as a result of misfortune in your life. He’d choose you a thousand times over, any day of the week.

He subdues his reaction when you tell him the softer the food the better because of your injured jaw and face. He whips up some scrambled eggs and sliced banana and even cooks another egg when you’re still hungry. You have an odd look on your face when he takes the dirty dishes to the sink, leaving them to be scrubbed clean in the morning when you’ve both had some rest.

When you’ve made it to the upstairs hallway, the look on your face when he offers you the guest bedroom is almost comical. “Just wanna make it clear you’re not, you know, obligated to, uh, to stay in my bed with me,” he explains. Your face softens as you insist that you absolutely want to stay with him. He tries to not let on how elated he is to hear that. He rifles through the medicine cabinet and makes you take something for the pain and the swelling.

“Do you think I could get a quick shower? I just– I feel so gross, actually. I didn’t really notice in the motel, but I think between the state of the room and the lack of food I didn’t really notice.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

He shows you his setup in the main bath and grabs fresh towels and washcloths. His heart pinches when you wince trying to get undressed. 

“Do you mind?” you ask and gesture to the hoodie engulfing you.

He crouches down to shimmy it from the bottom up even though his knees scream in protest. While you work the top half, he helps you out of your pants and panties. He has to fight back all the anger ballooning at the sight of your body covered in red marks and bruising. He heaves a sigh and stands again, only to freeze when he sees the telltale maroon ring of clenched hands around your neck.

“Did he fuckin’–” he cuts himself short and turns his head away until he can regain his composure. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill him if I ever see him again.”

“Joel,” you caution – a soft reminder that a hostile reaction, even if it’s not directed at you, is not what you need right now.

His hands are pinned to his hips as he paces around the bathroom trying to reign in his disgust and anger for your father. He shakes his head and wipes his brow, pinching the bridge of his nose while he takes deep breaths. He’s brought back to reality and what should be his focus when he hears the water start up.

“Sorry, baby. M’sorry, I got beside myself for a minute there,” he atones. “Here, lemme get you situated.”

He adjusts the controls until a pleasantly warm spray is falling into the stall. You take his hand when you enter and let out a small, placid sigh at the soothing water. He helps get you washed up, making sure to be extra delicate around all the injured swaths on your body. You sway contentedly under his care and the warmth of the shower, and it nearly makes him misty eyed that you’re trusting him with this.

You appear to be slipping into a relaxed state when you tilt your head and get an unexpected spray of water into your mouth and nose. Joel isn’t sure if it was just the surprise of it or if it actually stung your nostrils, but your reaction is borderline panicked over it.

“Hey, whoa whoa.”

“Sorry. Sorry,” you sputter, eyes clenched shut. “Just got freaked out for a second. Sorry.”

Something in the distressed bend of your words gives him pause. “Tell me what I need to change. I want you to be comfortable. Is the spray too strong? Do you want me to adjust it?”

You shake your head, fat drops of water falling from your face and blending in with tears that have finally broken free from the edge of your lashes. You sniff loudly and turn your face away, and that’s when realization hits Joel like a ton of bricks.

“What the fuck did he do to you, baby?” He can’t begin to imagine what on earth that monster did to have you go from such a peaceful spot into full blown panic.

“I don’t want to say. It’s just gonna upset you.”

“You can tell me. You can tell me anything. I won’t get upset with you. I won’t get upset. You can tell me,” he insists.

Your wet, wide eyes slide over to meet his, and thankfully whatever you see makes you feel safe enough to voice it.

“Part of our… argument,” you begin in a shaky breath, “was by the kitchen sink.”

His eyes narrow slightly at the fear creeping into your voice, and a bad feeling starts brewing in his gut. He thinks back to a little earlier when your expression was indiscernible as he cleared the dishes.

“It was so scary, Joel,” you whisper, barely audible above the sound of the streaming water.

“Tell me. You can tell me.” He cups a hand along your jaw and strokes the purple and green patches of your skin with his thumb.

“He kept… He was holding me under the water. In the sink. Where I had been doing the dishes,” you choke out.

“Jesus christ,” he heaves, wrapping his arms around your dripping wet body and drawing you into a gentle hold.

“I thought he was going to drown me,” you sob.

“You’re safe now, sweetheart. You’re safe, you’re safe,” he repeats in a calming chant. “He’s not gonna get to you ever again, you hear me? You never have to be afraid of that again.”

Joel’s shirt and one leg of his pants are completely soaked by the time he manages to calm you down. He guides you out of the shower, towel dries you, dresses you in an old, soft t-shirt and pair of boxers, brushes your teeth, and gets you snuggled into bed. That same sense of gratitude of you letting him help you washes over him as you cuddle into and sniff his comforter, whining softly like a tired little kitten in need of a midday nap.

He makes quick work of peeling the wet clothes from his skin, brushing his teeth, and crawling into bed. He’s dead tired and realizes a moment too late that he’s gotten into bed completely naked. Any indication that you’re offended or think he’s trying to put a move on you now of all times goes out the window when your eyes flutter open and you pull him closer.

“You’re so warm,” you mumble sleepily into his shoulder.

He breathes a little laugh from his nose at how precious you are. “Go to sleep. We can talk more in the morning.”

“M’kay,” you slur back. You flatten your bodies together, arms wrapped around his middle, and start to drift off.

Joel watches you and strokes your cheek until you’re asleep. He tries to not stew in the hatred and rage he feels for what your dad did to you. It’s probably for the best that he didn’t know the full extent of the situation when he went to your house and collected your things. He’d have beaten him to a pulp, if not worse.

His stomach felt rancid at the fleeting relief it had been to hear that the brutalization hadn’t gone past physical assault. And to think you’d phrased this as “a little knocking around” in the grand scheme of things. It made him nauseous to entertain the reality of what you’ve been living with all these months. No, years.

Joel wanted to kick himself for asking such a stupid question in the motel: are you hurt? Of course you’re hurt. How could you not be with all the nasty purpling patches blending into bits of puffed flesh that hadn’t fully recovered from the swelling? How could you possibly be okay after fleeing your own home in the middle of the night just to avoid another violent attack by your own father? After he toyed with the idea of killing you?

Guilt clung to Joel like a too tight second skin. He could’ve done something if he’d known. He could’ve gotten you out of this situation, helped you avoid it altogether, if only he’d just pushed for you to tell him the truth. If only he’d shown you or proved somehow that you could trust him. He watches your eyes dance behind your lids, and he prays your dreams are peaceful.

“I’m never gonna let him hurt you again. You’re never gonna be hurt like that ever again. I won’t let it happen. You’re safe with me,” he whispers into your ear. “I love you.”

He kisses your temple softly and pulls you into the cocoon of his arms. You can’t hear him, but it doesn’t matter. It’s not a promise that can be kept without action, and he intends to show you he will keep it until the day he dies.

It’s the heat bordering on furnace that stirs you. Soft little breaths from Joel’s open mouth puff against your forehead. Your eyes droop a little, the cradle of his body so intoxicating that it practically lures you back to sleep. Warmth engulfs you in an entirely different way now, waking up in a safe place with a sanctuary of a person. Even through your muddled mind, you know you’ve never experienced this before in such a profound way.

The loud gurgle of your stomach wakes him with an amused, confused smile.

“Mmmm sounds like somebody needs suh’more eggs,” he gently teases.

“That actually sounds good,” you admit.

His eyes peel open at that, and his grin broadens. “Yeah? You gonna let me cook ya somethin’?”

“Yeah.” You nibble your bottom lip in a shy grin and immediately wince at the sensitivity of your teeth against your healing split lip.

“Careful, baby,” he cautions with a pinched brow. He runs his thumb tenderly against your lip and presses a small kiss there.

You nod an acknowledgement and snuggle your face into his chest, fingers grazing through the little gray and brown bits of hair in the middle of it. “What time is it?”

“Don’t matter. You don’t worry about what time it is or what day it is or any of that. You just focus on relaxing and feelin’ better.”

You snort at his cliche girl dad answer and throw him a sarcastic “sir, yes, sir” for good measure. His eyes brighten at the first bit of genuine levity you’ve shown since he found you at the motel.

“We’ll get you somethin’ to eat and then get you checked out by a doc, okay?”

You remember last night’s promise to be seen by a medical provider and groan. “Alright,” you concede with a sigh.

“That’s my girl,” he beams.

Just as he had offered, Joel whips up some scrambled eggs, bacon, and sliced banana for the both of you. You busy yourself with finding something comfortable to wear and get dressed. Breakfast is a quiet affair with Joel spending most of it fussing over you. He makes you take another pill for the pain and swelling. He sets you up in the living room to finish your water and juice without any explanation, although the clinking of dishes from the kitchen gives you a pretty decent guess that he wanted you away from the potential trigger of it.

You don’t ask where he’s taking you to be seen. You trust him to make that decision for you, even if it’s a bit nerve wracking to relinquish that sort of control. He pulls into a mostly empty lot next to a newer looking building with a large sign that reads CORBITT HEALTH SYSTEMS URGENT CARE. The woman at the patient intake station looks warily between your appearance and Joel’s contrasting broad, strong frame. It hadn’t occurred to you until this moment that people were going to assume he had done this to you. Joel shouldering any of the blame for your current state made you sick to your stomach.

“Can my friend come back with me? To help me?” you blurt out in some effort to absolve him of the unmerited charge.

She doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she doesn’t eye him as coldly now that you’ve insinuated this isn’t a significant other. “Sure. Assuming you don’t have any life threatening medical concerns, fill this out and get it back to me.”

You try to concentrate on the form, but it hurts to pinch your fingers tight enough to hold the pen. Joel wordlessly takes the clipboard and pen from you and quietly fills out what he can while you supply him with the rest. He turns the clipboard in for you, and it’s soon after that you’re called back. The series of waiting rooms is making you anxious, but at least there’s two chairs side by side so you don’t have to hoist yourself up onto that crinkly papered examination table.

“Thought she was gonna set me on fire with some telepathic brain powers,” he chuckles low and quiet. He jerks his head back towards the direction of the main waiting area.

“I hate that she assumed you did this,” you huff.

“Can’t really blame her, though, to be fair.” He shrugs it off, considerate to almost a fault. “It’s kinda the norm for the asshole who did it bein’ the same one breathin’ down your neck so you can’t talk to anybody in private.”

“But you didn’t do it,” you protest, growing more and more irritated at the idea of him bearing the brunt of responsibility for this.

“No, I didn’t,” he agrees softly. “And you’re never gonna go through anything like that ever again.”

His hand finds yours and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“You’re really gunning for Boyfriend of the Century Award, you know that?” you tease.

A loose, jubilant smile spreads across his mouth.

“What?” you ask. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“‘Boyfriend’, huh?” he repeats with a practically beatific glow.

“Oh,” you exhale in a laugh. “Uh. Yeah. I mean, if that’s… okay with you? We don’t have to do names or anything. I didn’t think when I– it just came out.”

He snorts and shakes his head, dipping to press his mouth faintly against yours. “More’n okay with me, sweetheart.”

You don’t know what you ever did to deserve this man. The memory of you telling Joel you didn’t need him or anybody else echoes like a ghost in your mind. 

“Joel?”

“Yeah?”

“I-I don’t think I’m too good for help from people.” You shift awkwardly in your seat but hold yourself to be present in the conversation. “I know I need your help.”

“Where’s this comin’ from?” “I just.. when we had that fight, and I said I didn’t need anybody… It’s not true. I need you. I want you, and I need you in my life.”

“That makes two of us.” He raises your hand to his lips and plants tiny pecks on each knuckle. You turn your hand to cradle his jaw and lean forward.

“I was scared. I was so scared you were going to find out and then leave like everybody else.”

He rests his hand atop yours and bends his head to kiss your wrist, working his way up your arm as far as your sleeve will allow. “Not gonna happen,” he says plainly. “I’m not goin’ anywhere unless you’re comin’ with me.”

Before you can get too caught up in his declaration of commitment, a quick knock at the door signals it’s your turn to be seen. At one point during the appointment, the provider informs you some tests will need to be conducted to make sure there’s no internal injuries, and you both leave Joel to sit in the room while they guide you into the hallway towards the bathrooms to start with a urine test. You round the corner with them but stop short of the restrooms when they turn to face you and speak in a low tone.

“I wanted to speak with you privately,” they inform you. “Is the person who gave you these injuries here with you today?”

The question rattles you more than you expected. You certainly hadn’t anticipated the topic to come up in the middle of the hallway between rooms. There it was again – that assumption of Joel being your abuser. You do your best to hide your irritation. You know they’re simply doing their job. When you don’t answer, they rephrase it.

“Do you have any concerns leaving with the person accompanying you today?”

You shake your head, too nervous you’ll snap at them for accusing Joel. He didn’t deserve this. Every part of you knows this person is just doing their due diligence, but Joel didn’t deserve to be viewed as some abusive scumbag.

Your patience wears thin after the third delicately worded question regarding your current safety with Joel. “He wasn’t the one that did this,” you snip. “If you really need to know that bad, it was my dad, alright? Joel made sure I don’t have to go back, so can you please stop acting like he’s the fucking monster here?”

Their eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but they quickly fix their expression to the placid, neutral one from before. “Ma’am, I really intended no offense with my question. Our goal is to make sure you are not in immediate danger. We have resources like emergency housing or crisis intervention for people in those situations, and it is my duty to you as my patient to determine whether or not those resources would be helpful to you,” they explain calmly.

You sigh a long exhale and shut your eyes. “Sorry,” you mumble. “I-I know you’re just trying to do your job. I appreciate it. I do.”

They accept your awkward apology and move on with the appointment. You end up actually having to pee into a cup as well as go through some imaging to check for breaks or concussions and everything in between. When you finally wind up back to your room, you tell Joel what the practitioner had said to you in the hallway. He of course lauds the artful intervention – “that’s actually so smart because it doesn’t raise any suspicion from whoever is here with you.”

It turns out you’ve got a fractured nose that needed to be aligned and packed, but it should heal without any need for surgical intervention. With your nose splint in place and prescription for pain medication in hand, you and Joel stop by the checkout desk. You grimace at the paperwork the woman slides over to Joel. You don’t even want to think about how much today cost you. Well, how much it cost Joel. You probably couldn’t even begin to cover the cost of it. The topic of medical bills whips your brain into an alarming train of thought.

“Joel.”

“Yeah? What’s wrong?” He stops midway through opening the truck door for you.

“We need to go to the bank,” you practically choke out.

His expression hardens in understanding. Your joint account. The one your dad’s email is linked to that you don’t even have the password to. The one you can’t close without both parties consenting but either party can withdraw any amount at will. 

The drive there is tense and quiet. The woman at the teller window nearly gets a verbal lashing from you when she glances hesitantly between you and Joel, doing the exact same thing the patient intake woman had done at the urgent care. Thankfully Joel ushers you off to the side before you can give her a piece of your mind. A different woman comes round with a dubious glance at Joel and leads you both to her office.

Your heart lurches as you force yourself to calmly and politely explain that you need to access your account and transfer the money into a new, single user account. Her fingernails clack loudly on the keyboard, her mouth drawing up to a worried pout.

“Was this something you and the joint account holder had discussed?” she wonders aloud with a tone that doesn’t sound very promising for you.

“No,” you answer flatly. “Is there a problem? I thought I could transfer the money without his authorization?”

“Well, yes, you could.” She fidgets in her seat nervously and folds her hands on the desk before leveling you with an uneasy look. “I asked because I assumed there must have been some previous discussion with perhaps a … miscommunication between the two of you about who would be initiating that action.” You stare blankly at her, not grasping what she’s trying to explain, but you don’t have time for her to dance around the subject. “Look, I’m not trying to be rude, but—”

She glances Joel’s direction like she’s looking for someone to help her out. You turn to see his face pulled into a stony frown.

“So he already transferred it to his personal account,” he grits.

“Ah, yes, that would–ahem–that would be correct,” she confirms.

All the blood drains from your face as it dawns on you. Your dad got here first. He drained your account. The only money you have to your name is what you were able to hide in the vents and escape with. You’re aware that Joel has continued the conversation, but you don’t make any of it out. Everything sounds and feels like you're underwater.

His warm hand covers yours, a reassuring stroke of his thumb against your trembling fingers. “I’m gonna get this paperwork started for your new account, okay?” You blink a few times and realize he’s been given the document for you to open your own account. It seems silly to open an account when you’ve got no money to put into it, but Joel doesn’t seem deterred by this distressing turn of events.

You give a jerky nod and take a deep breath. “Okay.”

It was hard to see this dismal end of a situation as the new life chapter that it was, but as you watched Joel scribble his address – your address now, too – into the banking form for a new account, you at least knew wherever you were headed with him was better than what you were leaving behind.

Thank you all so much for your patience on this one. It was a tough chapter to write, but I'm really proud of myself for sticking with it until I worked through it. Thank you all so much for reading!

If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic abuse, the National Domestic Violence Hotline has a 24/7 hotline that can be reached at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233). There are also chat and text options available through the site.

💜

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[pelova4president]

Shadows are to protect III

Alessia Russo x Putellas!Reader

Victoria Pelova x Putellas!Reader

shadows are to protect I, II, IV

summary~ Victoria has been nothing but good to you but somehow you find a way to ruin everything

You picked the dead plants up and carried them into your kitchen that was still covered in white flour. Surely you could bring them back to life right. They just needed a little more loving and they’d come back. A little water and some sunlight.

You were puzzled by Alessia’s reaction. She didn’t want you, she made that very clear. But why was she so upset about it. Okay yeah, you made sure to show her that you were over her, that you moved on. But she had a boyfriend, she shouldn't even care.

You took a good look at the plants, they were doomed. In some way they were just like humans. They needed to be taken care of, they need love, light and water. They can't survive on their own, at least not long. Some can, like a cactus. But even they can't remain alive like that forever.

You've been doing most things by yourself, until Alessia. She was your water and sun until she wasn't. And you had held yourself up after but you couldn't keep doing that forever so you'd gone to your sister and then Vicky came along. And Victoria didn't just give you water and sun, she took care of you. And maybe that was the difference between the two of your teammates. One cared for you and the other pretended to.

Victoria was there for you when you needed her and she actually liked being around you. Alessia loved the idea of you, she was there whenever she wanted you. Not when you wanted her. It was a hard pill to swallow but it was the truth. You've been romanticizing this idea of Alessia Russo, the goalscorer, the golden girl, the fucking winner.

And the fucking worst of it all was that you still cared for her.

You fell into a new routine in the upcoming weeks. Victoria insisted on driving you to training even though she was clumsy in her car, maybe even more than Alessia. She'd buy you coffee on the way to training and you'd kiss her thank you every time. It was nice, she was nice.

Victoria took you out on dates after games and you'd have little picnic dates after training. You'd make the food and she covered the drinks. The two of you would spent hours playing with puppy’s and talking. You loved the park.

Training was less enjoyable. You got dirty looks from a certain striker and especially when you were with Victoria. Alessia took it upon herself to make trainings a living hell for you. She tackled you harder than was necessary and was throwing you at the ground every chance she got. You were absolutely fucking done with it and so were your teammates.

“God, Alessia what has gotten into you!” Leah scolded the blonde when she made yet another unnecessary hard tackle. “Nothing, just a bad day.” she grumbled. But Leah knew it wasn’t a bad day, she’s been doing this to you for a long time now. “Whatever, keep that out of training okay. No need to injure our own players.” Leah told her. You rolled your eyes at her, why did she have to act like this.

It wasn’t until days later that you spoke Alessia again. She hadn’t reached out since that kiss with Vic. You didn’t try to text her, if she wanted to say something she should be the one reaching out to you.

Vic drove you to Viv and Beth’s house. They planned some kind of victory dinner before the national camps. You were actively trying to get more along with the team since Victoria was close with most of the girls and you knew she’d love it for you if you got closer with them. Viv was like family for her so you tried your best to put your awkward self away to attend a team dinner.

Everything was going fine, Beth welcomed you in and Rona and Myle were happy to see you too. The dinner was amazing, since Viv cooked it for you. It’s been a while since you had a home made meal so it was nice. There were people all over their house talking and eating, it was kind of like team hang outs you had in Barcelona.

Looking around, in search of a Dutch girl’s eyes your eyes caught those of an English player. Her blues were drilling into you. It was hard to ignore the feeling of someones eyes on you, so you didn’t. You stared right back at her and the only reaction you got was a huff and some eye rolling. Jesus, what did she want.

You got up, ready to pour yourself another drink. “Vicky, you want another drink?” you asked the brunette. She was in a conversation with Teyah so she shook her head no. You walked towards their kitchen. The chaotic noise of conversations was still somewhat on the background but the quieter space was still nice.

Filling your wine glass with some water, something Caitlin would take the mick out of later, you leaned into the wall.

You were somewhat in peace until someone bumped into you. Your eyes shot open, “What the fuck?” you groaned. Blue eyes stared back at you, totally unimpressed. “What? Can’t take a little push, just like in training. Grow up man.” Alessia rolled her eyes.

Now you were getting mad. She’s been the one telling you to fuck off, how you were clingy and that she didn’t want you. “What is your fucking problem. I’ve done nothing to you, i stopped bothering you right? Just like how you wanted.” you placed your glass on the counter.

Alessia took a step towards you. “Yeah so you got with my best friend to get back at me. You’re so fucking selfish.” she huffed out.

“Joder, I didn’t do anything to you! I’ve let you do your thing with your boyfriend. I didn’t say anything to anyone about us, just how you’d like that right. I was just your dirty little secret no one should know about.” you walked out. But she captured your wrist before you could take another step.

“I broke up with him weeks ago and when i wanted tell you i saw you.. with Victoria. I wanted to say sorry but then you seemed like you didn’t want it anymore.” she whispered carefully.

It was hard to believe she wanted you, especially after what she had said to you. “Don’t say that, you don’t want to be with me. You made that very clear.” you turned around. Alessia’s brows were knitted together and her eyes were getting glossy. But she did that every time. And every time she got what she wanted, you in her bed by the end of the night. And after, she told you those lies all over again. How she didn’t want you, how nobody could ever want you and the next Saturday she’d look at you with those eyes and you’d fall for it all over again. It wasn’t healthy.

“Alessia, don’t.” you looked at her. But she didn’t take that for an answer and took your head in her hands like she’d done on some many other evenings. But those evenings were in one of your houses, where nobody could see. Her lips touched yours and you didn’t pull away, not fast enough.

You heard someone clear their throat and that pulled you out of your trance. You opened you eyes and saw Vic standing there with an empty glass in hand. “I- i uh i was just getting something to drink but..” her voice trembled.

“Vicky. Vic, i’m sorry but it’s not what you think it is.” you got out of Alessia’s grasp but Victoria was faster. She picked her keys up from the dinner table and walked out of the door.

Alessia watched the scene play out in front of her and placed her hand on your shoulder. You pushed her hand off of you. “Fucking look what you did Alessia! I don’t want you okay, you’re confusing me and i don’t need that. I just want someone that loves me as much as i love them and you clearly don’t” you breathed out. The tears had found an escape in the corners of your eyes and they traveled down your cheeks. You wiped them away angrily and walked out of the door.

Why couldn’t Alessia just leave you alone. You were finally getting along with everyone, you found your person, football was going good but she just couldn’t let you be. You’ve hurt Victoria, the only person that cared about you enough to be there for you.

You took your phone out of your back pocket and called her. No answer.

“Vicky, lo lamento. I didn’t want that. I only want you and our picnic dates, your weird movie choices and your clumsiness. I’m so so sorry. I will explain everything if you give me the chance. Ik hou van jou.” you spoke.

You knew she never listened to her voicemail but it was worth a shot. Maybe she’d listen to it. You had to leave for camp tomorrow and somehow that felt worse than your situation here. You had to pretend everything was fine and you were thriving at Arsenal like always. And you had to leave Victoria, that just wasn’t fair. You don’t get the chance to make it right.

And even though you don’t have a choice in leaving, you want to stay, or even better, disappear.

A/N i don’t know what i’m writing anymore. It seems like the story is only getting more angsty and there has to be another part. Should r just disappear and move or something?

[jamespottersdaisy]

Dulcet

Peter Parker x fem!reader

in which peter parker messes with your head

part1| part2| part 3| part4| part5| 5.5k

a/n: added oscorp for the sake of the plot

You got a hundred from the calculus midterm, but Peter Parker was not present to brag. 

The nerve that boy has.

x

Spiderman is limping, and he’s injured, too. Again. And to think that you were a civilian with a sprained ankle. 

“You weren’t hobbling yesterday,” You open the window to him, stepping back to make room.

He gives you a much-forced thumbs-up before tossing himself to the carpet. His suit is ruined, fortunately for you with only one big gash on his bicep. You can be a tailor if he keeps this up. 

As he catches his breath, you– already knowing what you have to do– amble towards the suture kit. You hear him curse and groan by the corner of your room. You weren’t expecting him, but you are not surprised, either. “Don’t stain the carpet!” 

“Come on, trouble, you’re better than that,” he calls with a hoarse tone. 

No, you are not. 

Bringing the kit along, you pad back to your room.

“What happened?” you pout at him, at which he waves his uninjured hand off. His wound is similar to the one that you attended yesterday. “It’s just a gash, stop acting like you’re about to die.”

“Cut me some slack,” he says, this time less dramatically.

You sit beside him on the floor to work on his bicep. “It was the same thing as yesterday wasn’t it?”

You are not sure what to call it.  Monster sounds too childish, but the body of an animal doesn’t leave much for choosing.

After his silence, you avert your eyes up to him. “I thought you said it was handled?”

You hear a sigh from him under the spandex. His words echo around the room as your fingers work on the wound. 

“It’s complicated. I can’t just kill him.”

“Yeah, but…”

You notice that you have actually never thought about how Spiderman handles the bad guys. Surely he catches the criminals, but creatures like yesterday? You have absolutely no idea on that matter.

“How do you handle it then?”

He shrugs. “Try to find a cure? I don’t know, if there’s a problem there’s also a solution. Usually, I just need to look for it deep enough.”

“What if there is no cure?”

He doesn’t reply, and you feel cold shivers down your spine. Indeed, from afar, in the warm comfort of one’s bed, the thought of murder doesn’t cross the mind. Why would it? You are neither the murderer nor the dead. Just a regular person who wants the monsters gone, and Peter Parker to not get a hundred from a midterm.

You don’t like the chill silence. “Were you looking for a cure today?”

His dry chuckle surprises you when you complete the stitches. “Kind of. From the former experiences, I figured Oscorp would be a nice start.”

He’s not wrong. You applied for an internship at Oscorp merely because of the company’s reputation and got a positive reply. Thus, starting in two days, you will be getting acquainted with the building's interior.

“What did you find?”

“Nothing. I couldn’t even make it there.”

You’ve never thought that you can help him. Surely, if you manage to get lost and perchance find yourself in a room surrounded by confidential information and materials that can help to create a cure, it would be great help. You can’t do it yourself, but that doesn’t mean Spiderman can’t.

“I will be there the day after tomorrow, I’m sure I can–” You start only to get cut off by the guy before you.

“Absolutely not,” he shakes his head. “You are not getting involved in this.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, and he stares at you, which looks funnier than usual because of his big white eyes.

“It would be easier for me not to get noticed–”

“As it would be more dangerous,” he gets up by holding onto the walls around him. “You just do you. Don’t try to play hero, trouble.” 

“I have you for that,” you mumble as he walks around your room. 

Little does he know you are utterly resolute to sneak around. Not a very vulnerable civilian of you.

“Exactly. Let me handle this,” he nods at you before limping towards your bed. “You should direct your exertions towards nagging that Peter guy.”

“I would very much like to, if only his ridiculous face showed up–hey, hey, don’t–” ‘Lay on the bed,’ you wanted to yell but it was too late. He was already spread on the clean sheets of your comfort space. “SPIDER!”

“Ridiculous?”

“I washed them this morning, jackass!”

“You didn’t tell me his face was ridiculous.”

Groaning loudly, you throw your head back.

“It’s not! Can you please get the fuck out of my bed–”

“Then what’s wrong with his face?”

“Nothing is wrong with his face, it’s disgustingly perfect!” You jump to your feet and dash towards the red-bodied male and drag him by his leg. “Get up!”

“You don’t like his face because it’s perfect?” he cackles, watching you struggle to toss him away. 

“Yes, exactly,” when you do haul him to the floor, he’s laughing more heartily than you’ve ever heard anyone laugh before.

“You should tell that to him. He’d be flattered.”

“The only thing I’m gonna tell him when I see him is my three-digit grade.”

You abandon him on the cold floor while making sure to occupy the whole space in bed so he won’t jump in again. His laugh slowly ebbs, albeit you can still hear the timbre of amusement.

“Three digits?”

“I got a hundred from the exam,” you nod proudly, eyes on the ceiling. “Parker wasn’t around, though.”

“I’m sure he’ll pop up,” he stands up and dusts himself off. You notice he is not limping anymore. At least not that badly. Superpowers.

“Wasn’t worried.”

Spiderman ambles towards your window, hands behind the garment making sure of the safety. You prop yourself up by the elbows.

“You’re leaving?”

“I am,” he nods, tilting his head to you. “Thanks for the help, trouble. Take care.”

x

You don’t notice that your eyes look for Parker when you’re on campus. You even mistake every tall brunette for Peter as well. It must be the excitement to gloat that’s hammering in your chest.

You flinch when the said boy pops out of thin air beside you. White shirt, blue jeans, so basic and yet still manages to look nice. God really does have favourites.

“Looking for someone?” When his velvety tone reaches your ears, you realize the few days without it was a bit…boring.

Ignoring the smug smirk on his face after pulling out a reaction from you, you wave off your hand. “Tell me the score. Come on.”

“Ninety-five.”

A deep smile graces your lips, immense pride festering under it. Your eyes gleam in smugness and Peter groans. “There we go–”

“I got a hundred.”

He nods as you laugh, lips forming a line. “Of course you did.”

“Meaning I am better than you.”

“I beg to differ–”

“And that should teach you not to mock me.”

“You’re making it really hard not to.”

You glare at him between your words, watching him shrug. He scrunches up his face, “Congratulations? I’d buy you a coffee after the lecture, but I’m a bit busy today.”

“Saving the city?”

You don’t see him stare at you for a moment. “Work at Oscorp.”

Of course, he got an internship too. What annoys you is not the fact that you will see him again after the lessons, it is the fact that whatever happens, it is always a tie with him. 

You are not aware that the former even excites you a bit.

“You weren’t around the other day.”

It’s his turn to smirk. You roll your eyes and get in the class with the door he held open. “You missed me, huh?”

“Yes, it was too peaceful.”

That’s not exactly a lie, but you are glad it sounds like one.

“I’ll make sure you don’t feel that peaceful ever again, don’t worry,” Peter shakes his head before strolling to his seat.

You know he will walk the talk.

x

“Does paranoia come with the job?”

“Trouble,” he warns, which doesn’t work because the nickname is entertaining to you.

“No, Spider, I haven’t been snooping around in the hopes of finding a cure for your monster.”

You definitely have. You almost got caught by Parker yesterday, but played it off as losing your way. 

Spiderman doesn't believe you, rightfully so. He's swung in to 'kill the time' for a while. Right now, he's leaning on a wall that has posters of your favourite artist on it, glaring at you through the white eyes. You sometimes wonder what colour of orbs are behind them.

“My spidey senses are tingling.”

Shutting the book before you, you slide on the chair so your body can face him. “I unplugged the iron, they shouldn’t.”

“They’re sensing a lie," he tilts his head.

“I’m sure that’s not how it works.”

“You wouldn’t know, you’re not the one possessing it.”

“You told me how they work."

"Which was a mistake on my part," he murmurs. "Listen, I don't need your help, alright? I already figured out what I need to do, I just need to find the right formula."

Nonsense, but you nod anyway. "Got it. Now get off my back, will ya?"

He shakes his head, seeing clearly that he won't get anywhere with this. Thus, he decides to change the subject.

"How's the internship going?"

"They made us go through the old files, categorize and digitalise, but it's the first few days and there are a lot of interns," you shrug. "So, good, I guess."

"Us?" he asks and you remember that you've failed to mention Peter's presence there.

"Me and Parker."

"You see him at Oscorp too?"

Unfortunately.

"I see him more than I see anyone else."

Spiderman nods and sits on the floor. You contemplate joining him.

"Shouldn't be that bad if he has a perfect face."

You know what to say to that. His perfect face is the annoying bit, you want to say but decide against it as it will sound…weird.

"Whose side are you on?"

"One hundred per cent yours, trouble," he raises both of his hands.

x

Spiderman said he just needed the formula. You know it shouldn't be hard to find it, you just need to search thoroughly. Somewhere in those fancy quarters, they must have something useful except old files for you to digitize.

"You're distracted," Peter says and you avert your gaze back to the screen before you. 

"Am not," you don't look at him. "Stop staring at me."

"You've been crying for a new task and now when they're about to give us one, you take your sweet time to finish the files.",

This time you glare at him. He's been asking too many questions for your taste today.

What are you doing?

Where are you going?

What are you thinking about?

The last time you've been put to this kind of interrogation was when Spiderman made sure you weren't putting yourself in any danger the other day.

"What's with you today, Parker?" you ask and he raises a brow. 

"What's with you?"

"Since when do you worry about me?"

"I'm a good person at heart," he smiles at you, and you grimace in disagreement. 

"Sure you are," you rise from your seat, Peter's eyes following you. "I'm going to the bathroom."

You are not. You just have one last room to check for. One that is filled with machines and screens that are hard for you to control. On one of those screens, you know you can find what Spiderman needs.

If only you can slip in and out without getting caught.

You have managed so far, albeit Peter has seen you close to those rooms multiple times. He hasn't ratted you out despite that, but you know it still is not a good image for you.

"Diarrhea, huh?"

You almost laugh, but turn away from him so he doesn't see. 

Walking towards the bathroom, you make a turn when you leave Peter's eyesight. Passing multiple similar white gates, you count in your head to find the right one.

After the seventh, you check around to make sure no one is there. Using the card given to you, you disappear behind the doors.

The light around the place is faint, but enough to see the blue ambience. Five giant screens sitting next to a wall-size machine whose usage is unknown to you.

You can see the camera in the upper corner of the room. Avoiding a glance at it, you attempt an image of unfazed, acting like you are sure of yourself and not after vital– probably secret, too– information.

Ambling towards the keyboard that is certainly connected to the screens, you start roaming through the programs. A bunch of old files that you and Peter digitized for a few weeks, crucial recordings of experiments that can easily seem immoral, data of used chemicals, organs, blood and the name of the donor, as well as the formulas for each process are displayed with each click.

Your fingers slightly tremble in excitement when your eyes pick the formulas. 

Remember to act natural.

You tug on the button once, twice, thrice, and beg for more time so you can pick the right one. You are too close, it would all go to waste if you get caught before finding what you're looking for.

Your heart drops to your feet when you hear footsteps behind the door. They are fast and hard and don't leave enough time for you to hide with the speed it's approaching.

You flinch when the door is opened and gasp when it's closed at the same second.

Peter is frowning, dashing towards you

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" His tone is harsh, his face in a scowl.

Your eyes go between him and the door, heart taking a pace. You should be able to distract him enough to find the right formula.

"I'm working," you turn back to the screens, running your eyes in speed.

"Working, my ass," he comes forward, not exactly dragging you but firmly grabbing your bicep. "You're coming with me, let's go."

"Stop this, the camera is working, act natural."

Your name leaves his lips in a hiss, enough for you to know how irritated he is.

"They will barge in any minute, you have to get out of here," he tightens his grip.

Your hands are shaking at this point, mind too dishevelled that you are afraid of failure. 

Whatever happens please let it happen after I find the formula, you beg.

"Peter–"

"Look at me–"

"No, I don't have time–"

"Of course, you don't! Please, trou- try to be quick or I'm dragging you away."

"Just a minute."

Footsteps are echoing behind the door, and this time you are sure they won't help you like Peter was trying to do.

He calls your name and you make a sound from deep in your core in desperation but followed by a victorious one immediately.

A shout sinks into the air outside of the room, and you hold your breath in dreading anticipation. Reading the screen one more time you lock eyes with Peter as the hold of the door makes a screeching sound.

Next thing you know Peter is cursing under his nose before crashing his lips onto yours.

He has pulled your body close, and cupped your cheek, deeming it impossible for you to escape his touch. 

The five seconds that his soft lips caress yours, your mind goes blank, your heart stops beating and your body forgets how to react as his skin on yours sets your body aflame. 

While your soul welcomes the sweet shock deep in your core, the door to the room flings open, and three white-cloaked professors barge in. 

Peter lets you go instantly, and not even lending a glance at you, he awkwardly stares back at the uninvited hosts. 

"You two can't do that somewhere else?" the woman in between asks as you slowly gain your composure back.

"This is a workplace," the short, blonde man next to her chimes in. "You can get stripped of your internships for this."

The other man, tall and ginger, stays silent with an amused look on his face. "Bloom of youth."

"We are sorry, sir," Peter starts, not sure whom to address. "It won't happen again. Never again."

A few moments of silence drag into forever as Peter takes your hand into his. 

It seems as if the stern-faced individuals soften at the gesture, their stone heart deciding to take pity on you.

The woman steps away from the door. "Back to work."

Before Peter drags you away by the hand, you peek at the big screen and see that it's back to normal.

You did it.

The only thing left to do is to give the formula to Spiderman and let him do the rest, which you are sure he will. If only evening came by faster. You can't wait for his reaction when he sees–

"What," Peter spats out through his teeth, "Were you thinking?!"

You notice how he has led you to an uncrowded space, and how he is unusually close to you.

"Thanks for the save?" you ask sheepishly, the reality of the kiss slowly sinking in.

"No, I'm serious. What the hell is wrong with you?"

Peter's visage is…more irritated with you than it usually is. Still, you don't like how he looks attractive with furrowed brows and darkened eyes.

"Look," you chose your words carefully as there is no other escape from this situation without giving him some answers. "I just needed to check something, and that's all I can tell you, Parker."

So much for 'some answers'.

"I'm sorry that you had to get caught in my mess," you tilt your head, pushing your lips together. "And do something undesirable like that to get out of it."

Peter leans back, his eyes narrowing. He doesn't seem furious anymore, just a bit agitated. "You owe me one."

"How about a coffee?"

He shakes his head.

"Oh, come on, you love coffee!"

He does, and both of you are surprised that you remember it. 

"Brownie?"

"No."

"Donut?"

"No."

"Pizza?"

"No."

You groan and throw your head back. You don't see Peter's eyes lingering on your lips for a quick second.

"What do you want, Parker?"

His lips curl into a sly smile, one that he gives you when he's about to best you at something.

"Nothing. Yet," he smirks and brings his index finger under your chin, leaning in close enough that you can feel the hot breath on your lips. "You just owe me one."

With a short brush of his thumb on your lower lip, he turns around and walks away.

At least you got the formula.

x

19:58

20:34

21:27

Where is he?!

21:43

Your blood boils in annoyance that on a day like this, he decides to stay absent. 

22:10

A tap on your window makes you jump in your place, a whisper of 'finally' leaving your lips. Letting him in, your eyes look to find any injury and fail. "Where were you?!"

"At home?" 

It’s hard to envision him in such an environment.

"I got the formula," you drop the bomb.

Midway to your room, he stops in his tracks, raising his masked head to you. You can feel the confusion but also simmering anger under the white eyes.

"You did what?"

You sprint to your desk, grab the piece of paper and dash back to Spiderman.

He's silent for a minute, reading the ink. "I thought I told you not to snoop around."

"I didn't listen. Will it help?"

"It will but you had no business–"

"You can cure the creature now, right?."

Spiderman sighs. "You could've gotten caught, trouble,” he shakes his head. “If you keep this up, I'll–"

You don't listen to his words, instead cringe at the flashing memory. "I almost did."

You expected a highly ominous reaction, yet got greeted with a calm one. "What do you mean almost?"

You groan and return to your bed. The vigilante sits on the carpet, watching you toss yourself on the mattress. "Parker saved my ass."

You don't like how Spiderman is meek today. You are sure he would've asked you hundreds of questions already.

"How?"

You change your mind; maybe it's more convenient when he doesn't ask questions.

"Trouble?"

Your cheeks heat, embarrassment flooding hot deep in your core. "hekissedme."

"Come again?" he tilts his head.

"He kissed me so they'd think we were sneaking around to find a place to make out."

There you said it. 

"Oh," Spiderman nods, scratching his chin with the clothed fingers. "That must've helped."

A small chuckle echoes in your room when you whine and slap your hands to your face.

"Don't laugh. It's your fault."

"No, it's not."

You know it is not. It's just that…when he kissed you, you felt weird.

"Was he that bad of a kisser that you hated it so much?"

"I didn't hate it, Spider, that's the problem!" you admit with a loud tone, slamming your hands beside your body.

He stood there, silent as a rock for a minute. "Explain."

You are not sure how to say it, you're not sure you can voice it. It's too discordant, too far from the reality you built. You long to hear the words, to try the way they roll off your tongue, echo in your ears, to know if it feels innate.

"For a moment, I wanted to kiss him back."

Spiderman doesn't move an inch, neither do you. A prickling chill embraces your heart, shivers messing with your nerves. You don't want the words that left your lips to be true, but you are not regretful that they are.

"I thought you disliked the boy."

You straightened yourself. "I do! He's aggravating and witty and annoying–"

Your shoulders sulkled and Spiderman hummed, letting you continue. "But he is also funny and kind and sometimes attractive."

"Sometimes?"

"I try not to notice his attractiveness all the time," you shrug.

"So, was he a good kisser?"

You glare at him, but when he shifts forward, you have to reply. “How am I supposed to know?”

“His lips were on yours, weren’t they?”

They were. And they were soft, warm, silky, inviting and welcoming.

“For a few seconds.”

Spiderman scoffs. “Enough to mess with your head.”

You don’t like where this conversation is headed. “You should thank me for the formula instead of dismantling my life.”

He glances at the paper again. “Yeah, thanks, trouble, sorry that you had to get kissed by a handsome guy for me.”

x

He is sitting a few steps away from you, brown locks tousled from the times he has run his hand through them. You dislike the way your eyes steal too many glances at him, but what can you do? He hasn't acknowledged you once yet, let alone brought up what had happened.

"Is there something on my face?"

You don't know how he can sense your gaze every time.

"Pimple. A big and ugly one."

"Wanna pop it?" he raises his eyebrows, locking eyes with you at last.

There's no pimple to pop. In fact, the only blemish on his face is the lack of a smile.

"Do you always go around and ask the girls to pop your pimple?"

"Just the ones I kiss."

Your stomach drops now that he mentioned it, albeit you manage to play it off with an eye roll. “You flatter yourself, that wasn’t a kiss.”

“What was it, then?” Peter gets up from his place and walks up to yours. You look up at him from your seat as he crosses his arms.

“Not a kiss,” you say and he smiles. “You just put your lips onto mine.”

“That wasn’t up to your standards?”

“No wonder you don’t have a girlfriend.”

This time he actually laughs, even though it sounds like a scoff. “Right.”

When he turns away to return to his initial assigned place, a woman– no, the woman that you almost caught you– strides towards you with stern steps, her heels echoing around the place. Your heart drops and your mouth runs dry, contrasting with the sweat under your armpits.

“You two,” she points between you and Peter. “Follow me.”

You look at Peter with slightly widened eyes and see him frowning. Shame fills you, as well as with sheer panic glistening above it. You put both of you in big trouble.  

The woman strides back, and Peter dashes after her, but not before holding and dragging you by the wrist. “Don’t panic.”

Funny, Parker. 

Suddenly the distance of five minutes feels like forty minutes, and you are sure Peter can feel the dampness in your palm. The woman’s hair whooshes with her each wide step that you struggle to keep up. 

At last, she halts in front of an ivy door and reads her card. 

Peter squeezes your hand before you both enter the room. Inside, there are the same two men as yesterday, this time even the ginger professor appearing stern. 

“What were you doing in the room yesterday?” the blonde man asks, and you wonder his name.

“Attempting to make out,” Peter talks, his tone calm and determined. 

“We have seen the surveillance footage, boy,” this time the ginger guy says angrily. Apparently, he is furious that he let you go so easily. 

Your heart is in your mouth, your stomach in your feet. You don’t know what to say to get yourself and Peter out of this mess. There’s an ominous silence, one that stretches your nerves and makes you sick to your stomach. 

Even if you confess about Spiderman– which you would never– they wouldn’t believe that story. 

“Well?” says the woman behind you, her hands in the pockets of white overcoat.

You take a deep breath. “I–”

“I asked her to look for a formula.”

You push your lips together, staring at Peter, who is glaring at the colleges before you. 

“What formula?”

“I didn’t have a specific type, I just wanted a formula that would help me work on the animal DNA, changing and evolving it into something more.”

“Why would you want that?”

They are getting suspicious, not because they don’t believe him, but because they do.

Peter shrugs, and you frown slightly. 

“Curiosity.”

They seem to be convinced. For now. 

“Listen, kid,” Ginger one sighs. “It’s not a good idea to mess with DNA. It has deadly consequences.”

“If this happens again, we’ll make sure you can never set foot in this building.”

“It won’t happen again,” he assures. They look at you expectantly. You nod quickly. 

“Get out of here.”

You happily let Peter lead you out of that environment. After making sure you are out of earshot, he lets your hand go and you notice how your muscles are weak from all the panic. 

“Do you always sweat that much?” He wipes his hand on his shirt. 

“Thank you.”

Peter’s eyebrows raise at your reverent tone. “You good?”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I’m sorry that I put you in such a situation.”

“Woah, hey,” he frowns, waving his hands around. “Stop acting so…sorry. It’s weird. Seeing you like this.”

When you don’t say anything, he gets a slight idea of how much you are ashamed and regretful of the events of the last two days. 

“You can buy me coffee as compensation tomorrow.”

You smile, and Peter’s shoulders drop in relief. “Deal.”

x

“See, I told you to stop trying to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

You toss him your pillow, and Spiderman catches it before it becomes one with his masked face. “See the bigger picture, Spider.”

“Which is?”

“Parker stuck out for me. Again!”

“He has the heart of gold,” he sniffs and puts his hand on his chest. “Bless that boy.”

“Are you capable of being serious for a minute?”

“Not a preference,” he tosses the pillow back to you, but you can’t stop it from hitting you right in the nose. “Work on your reflexes.”

“But why would he do that? Why would he accept trouble for me?” You straighten your hair and put the pillow on your lap. Your eyes ask for ideas from the guy sitting on the carpet.

“You are trouble.”

“Spider!”

“What? Do you need me to ask the guy?”

“I just don’t understand. And he hasn’t even asked one single question about what I was doing there.”

You get up and walk around your room.

“Because you told him to?” he says with nonchalance, and you squint your eyes.

“How do you know that?”

“Sounds like something you would do,” he shrugs after ten seconds of silence.

“I don’t know. He’s acting weird.”

“By weird you mean–”

“Kind.”

“Maybe he was kind all this time, you’re just noticing it now.”

You don’t reply for a while, sitting next to the hero. “Don’t–”

“Stain the carpet,” he nods and puts his clothed hand on yours. “Or I’m paying for the cleaning.”

His hand on yours feels weird and funny, but comforting all the same. “How are the wounds?”

“Better. Thanks to you.”

You nod in pride. “I’ll make a fine doctor.”

“That’s a bit far-fetched, trouble.”

“He asked for coffee for compensation,” your eyes rest on your hands.

“Hah, a cheap apology. Lucky.”

“That’s why your romantic life is nonexistent,” you repeat the words he said to you once and realise you said the same thing to Peter as well today. 

“Because I’m on a budget?”

“Why is your romantic life nonexistent, Spider?” you ask, meaning the question with your heart.

He shrugs. You avert your gaze to his frame. You wonder what he looks like under the red and blue. Is he bald, or blonde, or brunette? Does he have freckles? Or a mole? Or a nice smile and brown eyes? Or dimples and blue eyes? Maybe he has dark skin or green eyes.

“It becomes dangerous with me at one point, trouble,” he slowly rises to his feet. “It’s either the people or the girl.”

“And you choose the people?”

“Someone has to,” he approaches the window and slowly opens it. “Don’t get in trouble.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Can’t sit on my ass all day and gossip, can I?”

x

“I don’t like latte.”

“You literally drink nothing but latte.”

“Buy something more expensive.”

You roll your eyes and explore the desserts displayed on the showcase. “How about something sweet with a latte?”

“Brownie. The big one.”

You raise your brows at the barista. “You heard him.”

He nods, readying the orders after you pay. Putting your card back, you hear Peter saying, “Apology accepted.”

“Now,” after the barista hands you the orders, and you find a nice place to sit, you say, “Why did you help me?”

“So you can buy me a latte.”

You glare and he smirks in turn.

“Felt like it at the moment,” he sipped from his drink. “Don’t look that deep, you just stumbled upon my charitable side.”

You don't question him on this matter anymore. 

He drinks his coffee as you tease him, and mocks you back when you pronounce a word wrong. 

He laughs when you burn your tongue because your drink was too hot, and tells you to put a sugar cube on it. It helps.

He listens to you blabber about the posters on your wall and asks questions about them to understand your fixations deeper. 

He talks about Aunt May and how she is the best cook in the whole world with a wide smile on his lips. You notice your glance too many times at his lips. When you say maybe you'll have the chance to taste her cooking, he nods and says you won't ever wish for another meal.

After finishing his brownie, he walks you home, claiming that he is a gentleman. And you may believe him from the way he opens the door for you and sneaks into the road-facing part of the sidewalk.

On the way home he jokes and chuckles, his smile lines never leaving his cheeks. When you arrive he steps back and says "Take care," before saluting you.

You watch him walk away, his hands in his pockets, his curls dancing with the wind and melting into light brown under the dusk sun.

And then it hits you hard and deep in your core. 

You’re falling for Peter Parker.

x

thank you for reading and let me know if you like it <33

tags♡ @taylorann2013 @gorillaglue23 @inkthgoat @pepsicolacoochie @delwrites @dinovickydzillarex

if you like dulcet series, buy me a coffee <3 i'd appreciate it so much

[sku11s1asher]

neuvillette x male reader for soulmates au😞😞 enemies to lover trop to omg there both rivals but slowly fall inlove with each other😭

neuvillette x nb/male reader (soulmate au)

note: ermm ignore how long it took, i forgot to check inbox, also i didn’t go too much into enemies more like haters to lovers lol (this is a long drabble bc i couldn’t think of any main prompts, enjoy it bc it really is long oops)

ooc neuv , suggestive , also they don’t really go in a order so yeah

fem dni

before finding out your soulmates (d1 haters frfr)

⋆ you and neuvillette seemed to argue over every little thing. if you breathed in his direction he’d mumble something under his breath, causing an argument.

⋆ everyone thought you both were dating, every single time you both even come close to each other theres some awkward sexual tension

⋆ he criticized every little thing you did, if said something a little wrong, he’d make fun of you, always having to run his mouth

⋆ now you personally didn’t really believe in soulmates because of how hard it is to find yours, to find your soulmate you have to actually touch them; not a touch as in accidentally graze but like an intimate type, a hug, etc.

⋆ if you are a attorney, you always would always drag on the case longer than it needs to be just to argue a little longer (you also did it to spend more time with him but, i won’t tell anyone your secret)

⋆ neuvillette and you had some weird type of rivalry, you guys knew each other for a while, every single time you felt as neuvillette liked someone you ended up taking them from him and he did the same to you.

⋆ at the same time, he didn’t honestly know how to feel about you, your personality was so different from his. he tried his best to stay away from you but, clearly it didn’t work.

⋆ his hatred for you was also contributed because of your friends, the people you hang around, the not so liked people in fontaine.

⋆ he felt as you were a competition for him at the same time; you were a little too good at your job (whatever you want it to be), now it may not necessarily be at his level but you were too good for his liking.

⋆ his emotions and feelings are all over the place. he couldn’t decide if he hated you, didn’t care, or was jealous.

⋆ neuvillette always looked at you, even if it was a look of hatred, love, admiration, anything. he always had some type of eye on you, he felt some time of connection with you.

⋆ if you ever got in trouble, he took the blame for it, which was odd as he wouldn’t really care if you were someone else.

⋆ fontaine was raining really bad, that day happened to be the day you got injured.

⋆ you had just got back from sumeru which isn’t the safest place, your injuries weren’t thatttt bad but, they weren’t the prettiest.

⋆ once you got a little healed and we’re allowed to leave, you saw him. he wasn’t doing anything important just looking at the melusine.

⋆ you walked up to him to annoy and tease him, most people were conflicted if you were enemies or lovers.

⋆ you weren’t expecting his reaction though, instead of arguing with you, he hugged you. you were frozen for a moment but eventually hugged him back, which is how you found out you were soulmates.

once you find out you’re soulmates ;

⋆ he always has some part of him touching you, even if it’s his pinkie, he needs the comfort of you.

⋆ soulmates share a mark with each other, you both have (design of your choice idk), every single time you get intimate with him, he always kisses and loves on it.

⋆ he loves praising you, if you win a court case or do something really good in your job, expect a night full of praise.

⋆ you both didn’t announce your relationship with anyone though, you both give sly comments every chance you get.

⋆ neuvillette loves you though, your the only person who gets him to act the way he does.

⋆ he’s always had a soft spot for you, before you were soulmates and when you were hating on each other every chance you both had.

⋆ once you both got into a huge argument, it was raining hard, you felt bad because he’s your bf/hubby

⋆ when you walked into his office and saw him crying you didn’t know what to do. he never got better with his emotions and expressing them with you.

⋆ “baby, i’m sorry, you were right i was wrong, okay?” you said to him while walking up to his desk. all he did was look at you and wipe his tears, not giving you a response.

⋆ he truly was the prettiest crier you’ve ever met, it was kind of a turn on, but keep your mind out the gutters your bf is cryin!

⋆ you both cuddle a lot, after you argue. he never liked having serious arguments with you though, it brought him some type of sadness.

⋆ just overall, he’s an lovin boyfriend (and hopefully husband), he’s the best soulmate you could’ve ever asked for!

⋆ ps; he still doesn’t like your friends (lyney)

[takenbypeter]

Hi! I absolutely ADORE your Wonka fics 😍 can I request? I would love either a sick fic where the reader is sick and Willy takes care of her or one where she gets injured or faints or whatever

Or just a classic jealousy fic because we all know once his chocolate takes off Willy will be very popular with the ladies aha

Please and thank you I love everything you write btw

Envious; To Be Or Not To Be That Is The Question

Willy Wonka x reader

Words: 1164

Business was booming in the Wonka store.

People were constantly coming in and out and candy was practically flying off the shelves. Willy became busy working in his factory and his shop, but he still always had time for you and you were always grateful for that.

Honestly speaking, you expected this, I mean how could you not? His chocolate was so stupenderrific.

What you didn’t expect, or rather, what you forgot about was the popularity of not just the chocolate but of the man behind the creations.

You noticed it a few times before. The way someone would give him a look or maybe chat with their friends and giggle while staring at Willy Wonka. It didn’t bother you so, because nobody ever really acted on anything and you knew Willy only had his eye on one person.

You.

But today? Today was a little different.

Today you had decided to visit the chocolatier, which wasn’t out of the ordinary for you.

When entering the chocolate store you immediately noticed the crowd. There were people practically everywhere, left and right. But even so, you could easily spot your darling a mile away.

He was currently occupied with customers showing them around the store, no doubt explaining his chocolate to them. Not wanting to interrupt of course, you opted to walking around yourself, snacking on some of the sweet treats here and there.

Munching on a silver lining you neared your partner, while still keeping your distance. You could hear Willy as he enthusiastically explained his methods and you couldn’t help but beam at his passion.

Watching in admiration a comment nearby pulled you out of your daze.

“That Mr.Wonka, his snacks are delicious.” You heard coming from a group of women beside you. You glanced at them quickly, noticing how they were openly gawking.

“His snacks aren’t the only thing that’s delicious,” said another, before they burst into giggles.

You shook your head, rolling your eyes at the remarks. You tried to pay no mind but they continued.

“You are so bad.”

“What? She’s right,” said another, “actually I might take a crack at that.”

You frown slightly, your eyebrows knitting together.

“He’s probably taken.”

“Couldn’t hurt to try.”

“He might be tired of his relationship anyway.”

You squint, growing upset as they continue in their discussions with the occasional laughs. Who talks like that? You watch in annoyance as the group travels to Willy Wonka. Honestly you were upset, but frankly you wanted to see how this all was going to go down.

Picking up a flower dessert the woman saunters to Willy, “gee Mr.Wonka, your ideas are oh so unique. You can really see your pure creativity in each and every one.”

“Well thank you,” says Willy, always appreciative to hear kind words.

“I would love to come to your factory and…taste test for you,” comments another one of the women butting ahead of her friend.

But Willy doesn’t seem to pick up on her tone, “I apologize but I’m not hiring at the moment.”

Unfortunately the latter woman is persistent.

“No, not for a job,” she laughed resting a hand on his shoulder, while her friends watched on, “I was thinking more of an after hours sort of special taste test.”

Willy stares at her with the same smile still on his lips, “why would you want to do that?”

At this point it’s impossible for you not to laugh at how oblivious he seemed about her advances.

The woman opens her mouth once more but unable to witness any further you stepped in. “Willy!” You exclaimed, gaining his attention along with the small group.

Willy’s smile broadened, expressing a goofy grin as he shifted his body towards you. “Darling! What are you doing here?” He asks enthusiastically, while you place a small kiss on his cheek as you near.

“Oh nothing, just stopping by,” you respond before turning to the group feigning surprise at your own interruption, “oh I’m sorry. I’d like to thank you all for supporting my Willy’s dream. It means the world to me and him that he has your support,” you glance to the last woman taking note of the obscure expression decorating her face.

“Oh did I interrupt?”

“Nope. We were just about done” says Willy. He thanks the attendees before tugging you to the opposite side that’s less crowded.

“You are hilarious…Mr.Wonka,” you tease, your tone light.

His head tilts, clearly confused by your words.

“That woman,” you point with your eyes at the scene you two left behind, “she was desperately flirting.”

Willy’s eyelids lift, his eyes widened at this news, “with who?” He glances around trying to match the suitor.

“With you.”

He bends his hand placing the tips of his fingers on his chest as if questioning, ‘me?’ And you nod in response.

Willy’s lips curled downwards in thought, but then his face contorted to an even more curious one.

“Huh?”

You raise a brow at that, “what?”

“Nothing,” he brushes.

But then, “huh?”

You shake your head, a smile threatening to break through, “that’s a double huh. Spill it.”

Willy shifted to you the smile of his own widening, “did you perhaps…get envious?”

That is not a discussion you were expecting to have at this moment.

“I have no idea what you’re going on about,” you protest, yet the smile on your face expresses something else.

“See I don’t think that’s entirely true,” he pointed out crossing his arms, “because A, your face right now tells me otherwise, and B, you interrupted my tour.”

Willy had a point there. Typically when you came in and he was busy discussing, whether it be with a group or an individual, you always waited until he was absolutely free. However, this time, you did not.

But still…“you’re imagining things,” you tease, your eyes leaving his, unable to willingly admit the facts.

“Uh-huh, okay. Well…”

He leans over faster than you realize, with his lips coming in contact flush against your own. Before he retracts himself.

“It’s flattering that you feel so strongly about me.”

“Yeah, well…yeah,” is all you say bashful enough of your own feelings, “but how could you not notice her advances?” You’re genuinely curious because it all was so obvious.

He shrugged a dazed look on his expression, “I guess it’s easy to give no thought to those things, when I’ve already got something so special with you.”

Feeling your cheeks gain in warmth you glance away clearing your throat in bashfulness, “woah, I thought chocolate was your expertise not cheesiness.”

He laughed along with you, “eh who knows, maybe I can try to branch out into the cheesy side of things.”

You open your mouth but are interrupted by another inquiring customer who gains the chocolatier's attention.

Standing aside and letting him be you observe, pondering on how thankful you are to have found this man.

And suddenly gaining in curiousness…does he get jealous?

[ioniansunsets]

Hi! Recently found you, and i LOVE your writing and ideas! Their very tasty, like high-quality chocolate &/or caramel!

I offer (potentially angsty) scenario(you don't have to do) with heartsteel kayn & Idol or k/da!Reader?

What if a stage malfunction happened during readers' (or kayns) show?? (Or a sabotage from a fan? Perhaps?)

(Bonus: & What if... reader or kayn got hurt?) Thank you if you choose to do this ask🩷 (Sorry ahhh-- this is my first time sending an ask)

✖ Heartsteel!Kayn x KDA!Reader Where Reader Gets Injured✖

✖ Word Count: 1.4k

✖ Tags: Established R/S, Mild Injury, Ends with Comfort, IDK if I'd even tag this as Angsty (maybe a tinge)

✖ A/N: I think its cute how Ahri, Akali, Evelyn and Kai’sa all technically can dash towards you with their actual in game skills LMFAO so cute...these girls would do anything to protect you. I think it’s very cute when a lover goes batshit insane with worry for you. Have mercy too, I’ve never been hospitalized, only visited people LMAO

Also thank you for asking this! I am so happy that you love my thoughts and words >&lt;

✖ Wrote This Listening To: Drugs and Candy

----

There were always toxic fans. You knew that, and Kayn of course knew his fanbase were sometimes as batshit insane as him. But the past few weeks were great! Social media was abuzz with positive comments about you two, fans congratulated you at fanmeets praising how cute you looked with Kayn.

Everything pointed towards how the fanbase took the official announcement of you two dating well but of course, you know delusional, parasocial fans existed too.

What you don’t know, was how they got past security.

You don’t know how they sneaked past all the checks and stage tests.

Maybe it was on you, maybe you were training too hard and were too tired to notice.

Maybe the high of performing live on stage and all the bits and bops of things to do left it so you didn’t notice the creak of the bright lights above you. The lights in the same pink purple hues of Kayn’s hair. The last thing you remember was the crackle of lights, the screams of your fans, and all your band mates in a blur dashing towards you.

-

It was arguably just as bad for Kayn.

Sure he wasn’t there, he wasn’t injured, he wasn’t the target of the attack nor was he the one in the hospital but there was nothing worse than hearing that you were still out cold, uncertain of how hurt you actually were.

There was nothing worse really, seeing the clips circulating online of what happened being reposted by all sorts of accounts. The blood that flowed from you onto the stage, oh god he didn’t even know humans could bleed this much.

There was nothing worse than knowing that he was stuck on tour and couldn’t be by your side.

There was nothing worse than not being able to call you and check on you because according to Akali you were STILL in the ER right now, you’re still unconscious and the doctors have no updates. How! It has been at least 4 hours since your opening act. Since the incident.

There was nothing worse, than fighting with his bandmates and managers, begging to go back to be by your side, and only after Alune stood up for him saying how “ The Heartbeats would understand why Kayn was missing. Let him go or he would just sneak off at night and do it anyway.” That management allowed them to postpone their weekend show so he could book a midnight flight to you.

There was nothing worse, than sitting alone in the private airport lounge, checking socials for updates and finding out HIS fan was the one that was caught on CCTV being the perpetrator, the one that did this to you, the love of his life. They even wore a jacket with Rhaast’s icon sewn onto the back, almost mocking him. Sure you were the one physically hurt, but the way his emotions were all over the place, the way his heart refused to calm down, the way he haven’t felt so much like throwing up since he left his old band. He hated this.

Hands tightening around his already cracked phone, the only reason he hasn’t angrily thrown it against the wall was because Akali messaged him telling Kayn how you were stable now, you lived fine, you were still sleeping but you were out of surgery at least. He swallows hard, quickly picking up his small luggage as he runs over to the gate to board his plane. Kayn breathes heavy, only thoughts about being by your side when you wake up keep him walking and keep the absolute rage and chaos Rhaast has at bay. The flight couldn’t be any longer to him.

-

He ran, the second the Taxi dropped him off at the hospital he phased through walls and booked it straight up to your room, leaving Akali to sigh as she signs him in. The way his hands shook as he slowly opened the door to your ward. Feeling like it was somehow rude to phase through this one way although one, you were still unconscious and two he already violated the privacy of half the hospital.

“ My little demon…This is all my fault.”

Kayn slowly walked to your side after he steps in, watching and noting how you had your eye patched up, how bandages trailed down your body, how pale your skin was. He was going to throw up again, seeing you this way. Ahri who was in the room watching over you let him know you could still see of course, and nothing plastic surgery can’t fix about the scars. You would be fine after a week or two of rest. The shards of glass from the strobe lights missed all the important bits, only scratching up your brow, cheek and collar. Ahri offers Kayn a small sad smile before leaving to give him time with you. The other girls in K/DA has some cuts and bruises saving your from the falling light but otherwise were fine.

It was another hour of your steady breathing and the beeping of machines around him. To Kayn, it felt like hours. Inconsolable hours where his thoughts went wild. Rhaast kept at bay from trashing the place solely from how weak and shaky your breathing was. So when the beeping finally started to pick up Kayn was standing up, hand holding yours, calling out to you frantic and concerned as you slowly blinked and opened your eyes.

“ Oh my god you’re finally awake baby.”

You watched your boyfriend cry, silent tears falling as he spoke over and over about how he should have curated his audience more, warned them to not pull shit like this to you. Anger about how could his “obsessive fans” not know that hurting you would hurt him just as much. Frustration about not being in the audience this time to save you. Sorrow about seeing how much pain you were in right now because of him. Anger once again from Rhaast this time about how incompetent your security was for letting a mistake like this go unnoticed and finally…overwhelming relief that you were ultimately ok. It was new, seeing him so scared, so worried, no doubt all of these emotions were because of just how much Kayn loved you but still, you felt bad making him worry so much. Finally he updates you, telling you about what happened, how you would be ok, he would make sure of it.

“ I…I’m sorry you had to go through this because of me. If you want to leave me because of my fans I will totally understand.”

You watched his voice crack as his hand grasps yours tighter. Your lover’s brows furrowed as he thinks hard. Biting his lip so hard you could almost see it bleed.

“ No Kayn! I would never! It’s not your fault. None of it was your fault, my own crazy fans could have done this to me too y’know. Plus if I breakup with you, they totally won.”

You reply, throat a little dry from not speaking so long but you had to tell him. No way you’re letting some insane fan ruin your performance, your day and your relationship. You watch him finally smile a little as you speak, the corners of his lips barely curving, tears stopping at your frantic attempts to make sure he knows just how much you love him back. No way in hell or heaven would you give up what you have with him because of some lunatic. Especially after seeing just how much he loved you, flying here for you? Putting his work behind for You? How could you let this man go.

“ Hey, at least we can get matching eyepatches now?”

At your comment, he lets out an exasperated laugh.

" I’m sorry, I should be the one making you feel better not the other way around. Here.”

You watch as Kayn slips a finger under his eyepatch, pulling it off carefully before bending down to give your bandaged side a small kiss. Hands uncharacteristically gentle as they worked their way around your hair and all the gauze to put his eyepatch on you. Giving you another quick kiss on your lips before pulling away.

" Looking good darling."

" Only because you style me so well!"

Yeah, it will be ok, the two of you were motivated, hardworking idols, a setback like this meant nothing. As he smiles again at you, the signature cheeky, prideful smile you’ve come to love from him. Your heart flutters. Yeah, something like this won’t stop you from loving him.

[claiestve]

𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐲𝐬 ꨄ Dontis

˜”* ❝𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙚, 𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙬𝙖𝙞𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙙 𝙛𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙨𝙢𝙞��𝙚.❞

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴅᴏɴᴛɪꜱ ɴᴇᴇᴅꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀꜱ ᴍᴜᴄʜ.

⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯

"Does this hurt you?" 

You wrapped Dontis’ hands and arms with a bandage. They were covered in scars and heartbreakingly deep cuts. You knew he was strong enough to handle the pain but it still upset you seeing him like this. At least he came back in one piece though, right? Still, you wished he’d be more careful. 

"No."

"Why didn't you take me with you?"

“You need a break from the hunting and the fighting. Why would I take you? Even then, my life was on the line and I would never put yours at the same risk.”

He was awfully serious today. Like, less bubbly and gentle. You could tell why, he was injured in every place imaginable and he just came back from defending himself and other people. No matter how long someone’s been alive, that’s something that’ll forever shake them. Nonetheless, you wished he lightened up a bit. It was usually you that’d be the pessimistic one. Not that he was being negative, just, less positive. 

“Maybe if I was there, this wouldn’t happen.”

“Yeah, to me. It’d happen to you and then I’d be here caressing your hands, flirting with you, and making you feel bad.”

“I am not flirting with you, Dontis. I’m trying to help you.”

“Lying won’t get you anywhere, dear.”

You rolled your eyes at his remark. All you wanted was for him to be safe and healthy and you wished more than anything that you were there. You knew he could handle himself. He’s not incompetent but you just have that instinct for your dear incubus.

“And… Done! Can you move your arm well enough?”

“Ah, yeah. Thank you.”

He adjusted himself onto the bed and laid back. He seemed more tense than usual. You narrowed it down to him just being in a lot of pain. It made sense, he came to you with his arms practically painted with blood. Those cuts were deep too. 

“Are you going to keep staring or will you join me?” He smiled at you. 

“I mean, do you want me to?”

“It would make me feel better.”

He opened his arms out for you as you adjusted yourself. Dontis loved doing that, holding you. He loved to have you in his arms, on his chest, and breathing at the same pace as him. You loved it just as much. Though, you’d never admit it and you’d never ask to cuddle. 

When he finally had you, he wrapped his arm around your back, having your chest face his. His grip was more secure than usual. 

“Dontis?”

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Ah,” He cleared his throat, “Yeah? Why? Do I seem off? I’m sorry if I do.”

That. Right there. Not that Dontis was impolite, because he wasn’t, but he was unapologetically himself. That’s who he is and has been since you’ve met him. But right now, he’s apologizing for… acting strange?

“Dontis. You can talk to me. Actually, no. Please talk to me.”

He used his free hand to hold one of yours, playing with your fingers. 

“I suppose I’ve just been thinking a lot. I’m a survivor of something huge and I made it out with my friend and his love. I should feel accomplished and I do.”

“But?”

“But I can’t. I can’t dwell on this. I have a purpose, to comfort. It seems my kind only live to serve their purpose. I don’t want to though. I want to live my life and with people, I love without only serving my purpose. I do love comforting people but if I could just have a domestic life with you and settle…”

“Why can’t you?”

“It’s not in my blood. I’m not even supposed to think about it. You shouldn’t be the one listening to me anyway. Just… act like I didn’t say anything.”

You unraveled your intertwined fingers and held his hand by the palm. Caressing your hand, Dontis hummed, knowing you would put him in check. 

“Dontis. Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like it’s okay, don’t.”

“You’re not supposed to be my therapist, that’s my job.”

He tried to pull his hand away from yours. It didn’t work. You wouldn’t let him push this aside. You wanted him to know that you were there for him no matter what. 

“I don’t care what your job is, Dontis. It doesn’t matter. I’m here for you no matter what. Yeah, your kind have things you’re ‘meant to do’ but Dontis, you’re so much more than that. You’re more than what you were born as, okay?”

“Thank you. You know, you’re kind of good at this. Maybe you’ve learned some things from yours truly.” He teased. 

It was nice to see him being playful again and embracing his personality. He knew he wasn’t alone in this as long as you were here and that’s all you wanted. 

“I love you, okay?”

“I know, dear hunter, I love you too.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

haihaihaihai!!!

[hugsandchaos]

Day 3

Summary: So Danny’s injury is almost completely healed and the group goes through the portal to a random world, but that’s not important. What matters is that our little ghost blob finally gets a name!

Word Count: 4,414

Danny woke up the next day feeling surprisingly better, but at the same time, still tired. Then again, that was a normal thing since forever, not just after the incident. He was a little surprised that he’d actually gotten some sleep this time, even though he’d kept waking up three random times. It was early again, so he considered going back to sleep, but decided against it. This time, Sky was up covering the last shift before morning. He didn’t seem like a morning person at all.

Maybe Danny should share some of his precious, limited supply of caffeine?

The young halfa stretched and twisted his body before he stood up, unintentionally popping his back like there were fireworks in there. Sky had asked him if he was okay and laughed a little, and Danny smiled and nodded. Then he picked up his backpack that he’d once again used as a pillow and left for the ruins to get what privacy he could get to change his bandages and put his binder back on.

While he was in the dark room, only using the flashlight from his phone, Danny took a moment to think again. The other day sucked a lot, but he got some confirmation from being temporarily sick that might’ve made it worth it.

First, Hyrule’s little rant was something Danny hadn’t expected, but the way Hyrule repeatedly asked to let him know when he started to show symptoms left Danny with the impression that the group often neglected their health. The young halfa would’ve felt bad if the gratitude that slipped into his voice when he assured Hyrule that he would was fake, but it wasn’t.

Second, when Danny started showing symptoms, it came so suddenly that he was thinking at first that it was an early caffeine crash. Maybe it was part of it, though. Hyrule practically jumped to try to help him, reaching into his brown bag to search for some non magical medicine, but Danny beat him to it.

He opened his own backpack, careful not to let anyone see the little ghost blob, and reached for some of the medicine that Jazz insisted he bring with him just incase before he left. After spending probably five minutes rereading the same descriptions over and over and thinking of what he was experiencing, he finally chose to swallow a pill to help with migraines.

His stomach was felt like it was swirling around, and it didn’t help with his dizzy and suddenly fatigued he felt, but in his opinion, migraines were the worst. After that, Danny put his books away and walked over to sit by a tree under the shade, saying that he was going to wait for the effects to wear off. He had his backpack in his lap so he could keep the ghost blob close and rest his head on it. The young halfa had no plans to fall asleep, only to rest his eyes, but he ended up doing that anyways before he knew it.

When Sky woke him up, it didn’t just startle Danny because he was touching him, but because he didn’t realize he fell asleep. The realization scared him, but then he noticed that nothing happened to him. In fact, they’d mostly left him alone and went off to do their own things quietly. He was a little touched that they’d gotten non-magic food. After that, he drifted right back to sleep for almost another hour. Miraculously, it was the best sleep he’s had in a while.

Also, what was up with that weird man with the hat in his dream?

If they’d wanted to do any harm to him, they definitely would’ve done it by now while he was at a low point, while he was sick and injured.

Unless that’s an act, too.

That thought made Danny shake his head a little. The looks on their faces when they realized magic could make him sick after breakfast and when he started showing symptoms hadn’t seemed fake. He should give them a real chance.

But he’d been tricked before.

No. They were his best bet at getting home, and so far, they’ve been nothing but nice and considerate. He wasn’t going to let his guard down completely, but he wasn’t going to be a self isolating jerk, either.

“What do you think, little guy? Think they deserve a chance?” Danny asked, wrapping the bandages around the injury, which was recovering very well thanks to his fast healing. It would probably be gone by tonight at this rate. The blob ghost warbled in agreement and even sort of “said” that their emotions the other day towards him were genuine.

As a half ghost, it was sometimes a little bit harder for Danny to sense emotions the way normal ghosts did, especially while in human form, so this was helpful confirmation from the wisp. A small weight lifted from his shoulders.”If you say so.” He said. He put the jacket away after golfing it and started putting the rest of the armor covering his upper body back on. As he was doing this, a realization came to him. He glanced at the bag.

“Actually, do you have a name? I can’t believe I just asked you this now.” He asked.

The ghost blob gave him a negative response.

“How about a nickname, then? I can’t just call you “ghost blob” the whole time. I mean, I can, but that just doesn’t sit right with me. It feels rude, you know?” Danny suggested. He knew it wasn’t exactly fun to just be called “ghost” the whole time you’re talking to someone. Now and then is okay, along with certain variations of the name like “Spooks” for example, but being addressed by just “ghost” every single time gets a little annoying. The ghost blob trilled in agreement with the idea.

Danny hummed and began thinking about possible names. Blobby and Bob were a straight up no, along with death related names. This ghost blob was kind and sweet. Something death related would give the wrong impression and be insulting. A lot of ghost names that came to mind like “Casper” were just too cheesy. He looked at the ghost blob nestling on his jacket to see if anything fitting would pop into his mind.

And something did! It was odd that it was the first thing Danny thought, but maybe it would work?“How do you feel about Orbit?” He asked.

The ghost blob chirped. Well, Orbit now.

“Oh, good, because half the names that came to mind are space related.” Danny chuckled. He reached into the bag and rummaged around for another energy drink. Orbit flew out of the backpack and made themself comfortable nestled in his hair while he did so. Once he found one, he felt around for another and counted in his head.”Only three left?!” Danny exclaimed, probably with more shock than there’d be in a normal person’s voice.

Call him a caffeine addict, but he suddenly wanted to get home even more. Orbit warbled in question as Danny pulled one of them out and opened it, both sounds echoing in the small space.

“I’ll be extra tired and irritable, that’s what’ll happen.” Danny answered before taking a sip. After swallowing some, he started to stand up.“We should head back.” He said. Not needing any instruction, Orbit flew into the backpack and sat on his jacket. The poor fellow was probably wanting to stay outside longer. Danny decided he would have to find a way to get alone time for longer periods, preferably without the group getting suspicious.

He zipped the backpack up and used his only free hand to pick it up and wiggled a little to get it on. He walked out of the room, left the ruins, and was a little surprised to see the rest of the group was already awake and getting ready to eat. Except Twilight wasn’t there for some reason. Danny couldn’t see him in the rising orange light from the sun, or in the shadows that were a bit darker than when the young halfa left. Maybe he just went for an early morning walk or something.

Danny was quickly handed a morning meal by Wild when he got closer.”Thank you.” Danny said. Wild nodded and smiled a little, then went to go sit and eat his own meal. Some of the members still seemed to be waking up, and Sky was one of them. After spotting him, Danny walked over to him and showed him the energy drink.“Want some? You seemed pretty tired and grumpy earlier, so unless you plan on getting a nap in today, I think you might want a sip.” He offered.

He tried to ignore some of the others turning to look at them. Sky took the can and looked at it confused. He turned it around in his hand, careful not to spill it through the opening.

“What is it?” The hylian asked. He sounded slightly hesitant, which was fair. Danny had gotten sick just yesterday from one of their foods. Maybe offering it was actually a bad idea.

“Energy drink. It has eighty milligrams of caffeine in it.” Danny replied.

Sky looked up at him a little surprised, but smiled.“Eighty? No thanks, that might be too much for me.” Sky said, handing the drink back to Danny.”Thanks for the offer, though.” He said.

Danny shrugged a little.“Suit yourself.” He said, then proceeded to take a sip. The others were still staring at him as he went and sat down by the same tree he fell asleep against yesterday to eat, careful not to squish his backpack any. He’d managed to skip dinner the other night, but something told him that he wouldn’t be so convincing this time. Besides, he really was hungry. The young halfa felt a little exposed until they finally turned their attention to something else.

Since Danny didn’t see anyone jump or pull out their swords, he thought it was fine, though. So he put the energy drink down next to him, pausing to make sure it would fall over, then began to eat.

About halfway through his meal, a black nose came into view and started sniffing the food. Danny turned to see Wolfie was back.“Oh, you’re back.” Danny said. Looking at the wolf again, he instantly remembered his first conclusion about Twilight. He pushed that thought down. He still didn’t want to make those assumptions just yet, and it was early.

Danny was going to wait and observe first. After breakfast and caffeine, obviously. Wolfie looked at him and tilted his head, then slowly came closer to get a better sniff at his food. Danny lifted an arm against his chest and shoulders to stop him from being able to lean any further.”Sorry, but no. I don’t know if any of this is safe for dogs.” He said. Wolfie quickly pulled his head up to look at Danny, almost offended by his words.

Danny lifted his free hand up as if surrendering.“Hey, I know you’re not a dog, but you’re still related on an evolutionary and biological level. So we’re not risking it.” He explained. Wolfie was still for a bit, looking thoughtful, before nodding. He turned to sit down next to him. Danny returned to eating in silence, and once he was done, he grabbed the energy drink and downed it.

The cloud of sleepiness still hovering in his head would clear soon enough. He got his backpack off and held it on the opposite side of Wolfie, who turned to him and looked at the bag. Danny briefly glanced at him. Animals were known for seeing or sensing ghosts, and he really hoped that if he knew, he wouldn’t spill the secret or try to eat Orbit. If he even could. Danny put the empty energy drink in the same place as the one from the day before.

After that, he zipped it up and looked at Wolfie.”Sooo, do you want something?” He asked. Wolfie huffed and pointed at the back with his head.”No, you’re not eating anything in there.” Danny said blankly.

He was met with a disapproving look. From a wolf.

Wolfie huffed again and turned to leave, but Danny noticed something as his head turned. He reached out and placed his hand on the wolf’s back.”Wait.” He said, suddenly serious. Wolfie stopped and turned to face him as his expression shifted.”Open your mouth again real quick, please.” Danny requested. Wolfie looked confused, but did as he asked and opened his mouth. Not as wide as he probably could, but definitely enough that the halfa noticed the glint in the sunlight as he turned.

There was a piece of metal in his mouth, wedged between some of his back teeth.

“How did that get in there?” Danny half muttered. He turned over to his backpack and unzipped it.“I’ll make you a deal, Wolfie.” He said, reaching past Orbit and into the first aid bag that held more than a regular kit.”I need you to stay still for a bit, and if you can do that, I’ll give you some of my lunch if it’s safe for wolves.” He said. He found a very small brown bag that had different kinds of tweezers and forceps, courtesy of his parents. He grabbed one of the tweezers and pulled it out of his backpack.

When Danny zipped his backpack up and looked back at Wolfie, he looked a little surprised and even nervous. He’d closed his mouth and reared his head back some.”Oh, don’t worry, these are just tweezers. You want that piece of metal out, right?” Danny said, hoping it would comfort the animal. He was no animal expert, that honor would be better suited for Sam, but he doubted the wolf was comfortable with it.

After a moment’s hesitation, Wolfie nodded and leaned forward. He opened his mouth to allow Danny access to the piece of metal.“Alright, I’ll try to make this quick.” Danny said. Wolfie still looked a little uneasy, but did as Danny said earlier and remained still. It was amazing how expressive the wolf was.

Danny used one hand to stay balanced on the ground while the other went just past the entrance of the wolf’s jaws and teeth. Danny kept his hand as steady as he could as he focused on moving the tweezers closer to the piece of metal without grazing the teeth or gums.

Ancients, this wolf needed a mint.

Luckily for both of them, Danny successfully grabbed the piece of broken metal. He counted down under his breath, then began pulling on the metal, careful not to use too much strength. Danny was pleased to see that it came out quickly.

Wolfie let out a brief whine when he got it out and flinched, but had great enough self control to not bite or pull back. A quick scan at the sight showed no signs of infection or damage to the teeth or gums, not that the young halfa could see.

“Sorry, buddy, but I got it out.” Danny said, pulling the tweezers out and showing the canine the piece of metal that had been wedged between some of his teeth. Wolfie looked at it surprised and closed his mouth. Then he shifted his gaze to look at Danny as he dropped the piece onto a tiny ziplock bag. He’d properly throw it away later.“...What?“ Danny asked when the wolf didn’t look away.

Wolfie nudged his head under Danny’s arm and shuffled a little closer to place his head on Danny’s shoulder. Wolfie’s tail wagged twice, making rustling sounds in the grass. Danny smiled and held his arm around Wolfie.”Your welcome.” He said. That’s when he finally noticed that the rest of the group was staring at him. Time didn’t look quite as surprised as the others, but there was definitely a bit of surprise there. Four was practically the opposite, covering his mouth with a hand. All of a sudden, Danny felt a little exposed and uncomfortable with so many eyes on him like that.

“You put your hand in a wolf’s mouth.” Sky said. It almost sounded like a question asked with slight disbelief.

“Well, not really, I used tweezers.” Danny said, lifting them up.”Besides, it looked uncomfortable having a piece of metal between his teeth. Thank goodness it wasn’t sharp, that would’ve been worse.” He added. Wolfie pulled out of the hug and started walking towards the rest of the group. Danny put the tweezers away and looked at the wolf as he approached Wind.“Also, two words for you, Wolfie. Breath mints.” Danny said.

Wolfie quickly turned around and made a noise in offense. Danny almost laughed, but kept quiet and just smiled. Time stood up.“If everyone’s done eating, we need to start looking for the portal.” He said.

Very quickly, everyone packed up and was ready to start walking. Hyrule decided to walk next to Danny and Wolfie took a position at the back.”Are you okay walking?” Hyrule asked.

Danny nodded, tightening the shoulder straps so the backpack wouldn’t bounce so much.”Yeah, I’m all good. It’s actually even better than I expected.” He replied. He was still a little hesitant to talk with them, but Orbit confirming that all of their worrying and happiness towards him was genuine helped him feel more confident than yesterday.

“That’s great! And don’t worry, we’ll start your training as soon as it’s completely healed so you don’t have to worry about monsters anymore.” Hyrule said. Danny honestly felt a little irritated being underestimated like that, but he did this to himself. On purpose. Plus, he hadn’t exactly been lying, and Hyrule didn’t seem to be trying to be mean.

Danny smiled.”I really appreciate it.” He said. He scanned the group ahead.”But where’s Twilight?” He asked. Suddenly, a hand grabbed his shoulder. Danny inhaled sharply and turned around, but quickly calmed down when he realized that it was just Twilight, who pulled his hand away.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” Twilight said. Danny glanced behind him. Wolfie was gone. He looked back at Twilight, who was holding Epona’s reigns.

“It’s all good.” Danny said.

~~~~~(Time Skip)~~~~~

When lunch came around, Danny decided to sit closer to the group. He wasn’t sore from walking, it wasn’t exactly much compared to the exercise that was ghost fighting, escaping ghost hunters, escaping Dash, and does playing with Cujo count when he can and has thrown him multiple times during tug of war? And that doesn’t include how he and his best friends would have to walk to, from, and around school every day, or gym.

Sure, it wasn’t nearly this much, but the point is that he wasn’t surprised that he wasn’t tired. Hyrule and Twilight asked him a few times if he was tired, but Danny kept saying no, but he appreciated them saying that they wouldn’t mind stopping if he needed to. He was also grateful that they hadn’t asked him about his world again just yet, and instead talked about their own. Maybe they could tell he didn’t want to?

Speaking of Twilight, after he ate, he left to go for a bit of alone time, but wouldn’t you know it? Wolfie suddenly appeared a few minutes after Twilight was gone. True to his word, Danny shared some of his meal with the wolf, who left shortly after.

Three guesses as to who reappeared five minutes later, everyone!

Bingo, it was Twilight!

Danny felt like he didn’t need much more confirmation. Three times, the wolf had appeared when Twilight was gone and Twilight appeared when the wolf was gone. They both had the same eye color and marking, along with the crystal. Still, what if Danny was still wrong? And so what if he was right anyways? What would that change? As a stranger, Twilight obviously didn’t really trust Danny with this if he was leaving to transform, especially if he kept it secret from the others as well, which he wasn’t entirely sure of yet.

Twilight clearly knew them better than Danny. Not to mention the bad reputation wolves tend to have in his world. Maybe it was still attached to them in this world and others, too. And Danny knew well that if a species has a bad reputation, chances are there’s at least one person out there devoting themselves to hunting that species. It was reasonable to keep it a secret.

Now Danny felt a little bad thinking about how Twilight would feel if he was really trying to keep it a secret and Danny practically figured it out the first time they met, but he almost couldn’t help thinking how they were definitely the same. The signs were so obvious to him!

Danny mentally pushed that aside. The main thing was that whatever reason Twilight was keeping it a secret, he was going to play along for his sake. He wasn’t going to ask, he wasn’t going to give hints that he knew, and he wasn’t going to do some dramatic “I knew all along” reveal before he’d step through the portal to go home. If Twilight wanted him to know, he’d tell him. Danny was going to just move on, regardless of whether or not he was right.

“Hey, Danny.” A voice piped up. Danny blinked and looked over at Legend. The sassy one with pink tips in his hair.”I just wanted you to know that the portal is a little random. When we find it, we’re not sure if it’ll take us to your world or one of ours.” He said. Danny’s eyes widened a bit.

There were nine of them. Nine different worlds other than his own. Including him, that made ten. Since they were already in one, it was back to nine. A random chance of ending up in one of these nine other places. It was a roll of the dice. Who knew how many portals he’d have to go through before he finally ended up in his own?

“Oh.” Was all he could say. The train of thought regarding Twilight had just been ran straight through by another train.

After lunch was over, the group continued walking. Wolfie had left, and they found Twilight up ahead.

~~~~~(Time Skip)~~~~~

“That’s a weird water bottle. Why does it have tiny buttons?” Sky asked, pointing at the Fenton thermos in Danny’s backpack pocket from his place on Twilight’s back. Why he was getting a piggyback ride, Danny forgot. He probably wasn’t even paying attention at the time.

“It’s actually a thermos, but close enough to a water bottle that I can’t exactly argue. As for the buttons, my parents made it and they’re... I guess you could say a little extra. I’m not sure what the buttons do exactly, but knowing them, now isn’t the best time to find out. They just gave it to me for whatever reason. I usually put leftover soup in it.” Danny replied.

That earned an odd look from the hylian Danny was talking to, along with Twilight.“...Is there soup in it now?” Sky asked.

Danny thought about it. He didn’t remember putting soup in it before he left. But then again, he also didn’t remember Orbit sneaking into his backpack. Would it even be good by now?

Danny reached for the thermos and began twisting the top off, slowing himself down a little so he wouldn’t step on anyone’s heels. Opening it the normal way like this wouldn’t suck him into the thermos. Danny just had to be careful not to press the buttons.“I don’t think I put any in there.” He said as he twisted the lid. A second later, he opened it and got a look inside.“Nope, none.” He confirmed.

“Found it!” Wind shouted up ahead. Danny twisted the lid back on and put the thermos back into the side pocket of his backpack. Wind was waving the group to go around the cliff they were walking beside, which luckily wasn’t very tall and not much of a safety hazard to be this close to. When Danny followed them around the cliff, he paused seeing the portal.

It was the same purple that he saw only for a split second before darkness. It was shaped like a triangle, and the three points seemed to curved forwards. The dark purple only outlined the portal, the inner part of it seemed to be dark. And yet Danny thought he could see an even darker triangle in the middle. The extra dark triangle swirled, both expelling darkness and absorbing light.

Danny jumped slightly when he felt a hand on his shoulder and glanced at Twilight, who looked a little worried, along with Sky.”Don’t worry, we’re all going to be on the other side incase there are monsters.” Twilight said.

Danny didn’t want to admit it with how many times he’s gone through portals to the ghost zone, but a small part of him felt like it needed to hear that.”Thanks.” He said. He looked back and saw that Warriors, Legend, and Four had already gone through. Wild and Wind went in next, followed by Time and Hyrule, who glanced back to give Danny a look of encouragement.

Epona grew a little nervous as they got closer, and Twilight looked a bit regretful. Sky acted for him and pet her gently to help sooth her.

When they got closer, Danny paused.”Hey, Twilight? Sky?” He asked. Twilight paused and both looked at him. “I don’t see Wolfie anywhere, and magic is honestly an unexplored area to me, so forgive me if this is a childish suggestion, but is Wolfie like a magic guardian taking the form of a wolf or something and he’s going to take a different path? Is that kind of thing real here?” Danny asked.

Twilight’s face twisted a bit, as if in thought, and then he smiled.“Yeah, you could say that.” He replied.

Danny gave him a look that said “I don’t like where this is going” .“Do I want to know what you mean by that?” He asked hesitantly.

“Probably not.” Sky answered with a shrug.

“And yeah, he’s coming with us. For what it’s worth, he appreciates you not being scared of him.” Twilight said.

Danny smiled and continued walking towards the dark purple gateway with Twilight, Sky, and Epona.“He talks to you too? That’s pretty neat!” Danny said. Twilight nodded and they stepped into the portal.

(I probably don’t respond to all of your comments, but know that I do see all of them and love reading them! Sometimes, while I’m writing or trying to, I’ll go back and look at them again! Including the things said in reblogs! I hope you enjoyed reading this!)

[sociopathicartist]

Hello! I was wondering if you could make a headcanon of how Sans would act if his partner self-harmed, if it doesn't bother you of course. PS I love how you write and how you focus on representing their personalities in a canonical way.

Hey! So I debated for a while on whether I should do this or not since it is close to being against my request guidelines (no suicidal topics) but as someone who has dealt with self-harm issues, I know that it is not always related to wanting to commit to ending it. This was a heavier topic, but it was great writing practice to really get in-depth to Sans and his emotions and reactions. Thanks for requesting!

TW: Self-harm, Depressive thoughts.

Sans dealing with his S/O self-harming.

While I’ve made it very clear before that Sans is NOT emotionless and does have strong/vivid reactions, I don’t believe that he would react or take well to something like this. I mean, how is he supposed to respond? How do you react to something like this, the love of his life hurting themselves?

It was obviously at a time when you had no idea he would be home soon. He most likely came home from work or something, snagging Grillby’s on the way home since he wasn’t in the mood to cook and he knew it was his night to do so.

“baby, i got the good…”

His hand would pause on the doorknob of the door he had just opened, his pinpricks locked on you sitting on the edge of the bed.

“uhm… what are you doing?”

What is he supposed to do? Here you were, his lover, his baby, somehow finding in it you to hurt yourself? How had he not noticed scars on your arm before? Did you only wait until he wasn’t around to do this? Sure, he had dealt with depression back in the underground, but he just sorta gave up on everything and didn’t take care of himself. He never brought himself to the point of actually trying to injure himself in any way, more so just letting himself collect dust like an old artifact.

The bag of food is immediately set aside as he’s walking towards you, taking whatever you were using to hurt yourself out of your hands and putting it down on the mattress, not caring about the blood stains it would leave on the sheets, just focused on you.

What were you doing? Why? He can’t even get his thoughts out right now, just stuttering over his words before they can even get out and looking at your arms, your words that were apologizing and trying to soothe him just going numb in his mind right now. He had never dealt with this before or had any friends deal with this, and since you were his lover it just made it all the more worse.

He doesn’t want to call and ask anyone for help or advice since this situation is something very personal that both he and you wanted to keep to yourselves, so he just tried to help and comfort you like he did whenever you had a bad day at work. Once your arms are cleaned off and wrapped up, none of the cuts deep enough to require stitches or anything of the sort, he’s mumbling quiet praises in your ear as he runs his hands up and down your back, taking a bath with you or watching a movie, whatever you need from him right now.

Sans isn’t very confrontational unless he has to be, so if this is a one-time deal, he’s most likely never going to bring this up again. It makes him feel sick just thinking about it, and of course, he’s there to give you reassurance and the love you need, but after the night has washed away, the topic of the day's events won't be prompted by him again. Why would he want that to be a conversation? He might feel a bit woozy seeing you hold something sharp, or get a little bit more worried when you’re home alone and having a terrible day, but other than the extra ‘I love you’s’ and normal comforts, this situation will stay in the past.

[frenchoravocadotoast]

Hytham headcanons

Hytham (AC Valhalla) x GN!reader

Word count: 1078

A/N's note: I've been meaning to write about Hytham these past few weeks! Have some headcanons while I finish reading The Golden City :) (it got a bit angsty at the end)

Hytham’s love languages are gift giving and quality time. Hear me out.

He's pretty quiet (compared to the rowdy Vikings, at least), but true to his creed, he watches everything and everyone like a hawk. This applies to you too.

Hytham is willing to wait when he starts to grow interested in someone. He’d much rather approach them only once he feels like he’s gotten to know them both from the inside and the outside. I don’t see him seeking his crush out from the very beginning – he prefers bonding with them over time and seeing where things go.

Do not be fooled by his acting. Whether he’s cackling at a joke, dining at the longhouse or target practicing, Hytham is sure to be eavesdropping on your conversation. If you’re nearby, that is. This doesn’t mean that he’s spying on you specifically – he tends to strain his ears (like all Hidden Ones do, really), and sometimes, if he’s lucky, he might just hear your voice.

When he does, he smiles to himself.

You’re good friends with Eivor, and often accompany her on her errands around the village. This has led you to the bureau multiple times, and Hytham is always caught off guard by the unexpected visit.

“🧍🏾‍♂️Oh. Good evening.”

You like the place, it’s cozy and the man isn’t bad company either. So you stay, and even if there’s other parchments he needs to finish before sunset, Hytham perks up at the chance to answer any question you might have (grinning and kicking his feet when you show interest in the creed).

So that’s where you spend time together. Celebrations in Ravensthorpe are also guaranteed to lure him out of his cove – you’ll be sure to find him letting loose and coming out of his shell more. His favorite game is apple bobbing, and he’s determined to win everytime – but despite his competitive streak, he might pretend to lose if he’s going up against you.

As for gift giving, it doesn’t evolve into actual physical gifts until later on (he thinks that’d be way too obvious). Instead, his first ‘gifts’ are things you might need.

Whether you have experience in fighting/self-defense or not, Hytham hints at the training yard he and Basim use. He invites you to use it whenever you please (you can pummel the dummies for a bit, as long as you put them back in their place); and if you have no experience whatsoever, he’ll gladly teach you some things.

You don’t get to have your own hidden blade though. Sorry (ask Basim for one)

But you can try his! Just don’t die.

If you do somehow get injured, you can have the medicine he’s made. It’s all yours.

Interested in a particular topic? He probably has a book about it at the bureau (or he’ll find it somehow, don’t ask) and will gladly let you take it.

Teaches you how to do the leap of faith. If you pull his leg just like Eivor did and don’t leave the haystack, I think he’d have a similar reaction.

“Very funny. You can come out now.”

“We are so not doing this rn.”

“Please.”

“Please, Basim will kill me.”

Things start to shift when you see the signs. You crack a joke with your friends and notice Hytham’s already looking at you with a soft smile. You tell him your pouch is broken, and remember the beautiful purse you’d once seen at a market in Lunden. Days later, coincidentally, Eivor brings you a beautiful leather pouch from the same city (hint: it wasn’t Eivor’s idea). You also find him playing hide and seek with the Norse children outside, and he urges you to join.

You start testing out your theories. When spring comes, you comment on the beauty of the blooming flowers and he’s immediately crouched down, going through every plant in your vicinity to tell you everything he knows about them. By the end, you have a large bouquet of flowers in your hands.

Eivor sees this, and jokingly tells Hytham he should get some purple ones and smack you in the face with them (a courting tradition amongst Vikings). Needless to say he’s mortified.

Random secret: he knows how to make flower crowns – his mother taught him when he was younger.

He’s giving you instructions as you weave the stems together, and you can’t help but feel his eyes glancing repeatedly between your hands and face.

It’s not until Ravensthorpe is attacked that you’re forced to face your feelings. The ambush is bad – there is no escape as the docks are on fire, and arrows are whizzing past you no matter where you run. Whether you’re a villager, a sage, or a warrior doesn’t really matter. It’s the kind of attack where you’re certain your next stop is going to be Valhalla.

But then the clashing of swords stop. The last enemy falls to their knees, and through the smoke and the ringing in your ears, you hear the roaring victory of your people.

Sigurd and Basim are looting the bodies. Eivor is opening the longhouse where the villagers have barricaded themselves. But you don’t catch sight of Hytham, not until you see him emerge from the woods along with the other Drengr. His white robes are flapping in the wind, his sword dripping with blood, and he’s holding his side as he grimaces. So you run to him.

He sheathes his weapon when he sees you alive and well, eyes darting all over your face as if scanning for injuries; and before you can say anything, he cups your face and locks his lips with yours.

Congrats! You’re now dating.

Basim tells you and Eivor something enigmatic months before his sudden betrayal. Hytham’s happiness is clearly reason for his gratitude, and no matter how much you insist that Ravensthrope is Basim’s home too, you’re only rewarded with a wry smile from the assassin.

It’s months later, when you’re sitting in the empty bureau with Hytham, that you reason Basim must have known. You watch as Hytham grips the table and rakes his hands through his hair, how he paces the room when he’s not squeezing your hand. He questions everything when you realize Basim must have known all this time – must have known that he wasn’t going to stay, that his apprentice would be alright. That Hytham would be happy in Ravensthorpe. And thus, you make sure it stays that way.

[makiaan]

YOTD x Yona’s Younger Sister!Reader Part 1 Hak + Yona + Yoon + Zeno + Kija

Tw: Mentions of Blood/Violence towards big bad guys in Hak's section.

Yona

Back at the castle before the Kings death Yona wouldn't talk to you. To be fair you’d never approach her since you'd also had your own schedule.

This made you two pretty distant regardless of your close blood relations

Though it all changed after the death of the king.

Absolute princess treatment by the one and only princess!

She’s extremely protective of you, always holding your hand no matter where you went.

Being the last of her close family she fears losing you.

The time you were poisoned and fell into a coma she was besides the entire time holding your hand, almost breaking into tears.

Would absolutely want to teach you self defense, and would even beg Haks to help teach you.

Yona would try to remain tough in-front of you, but you always saw through her act, giving her a big comforting hug. She absolutely adored you for that, and begun being more honest with her feelings to you.

Though you two looked similar she’d always compliment and touch your hair,

“Wahh, it’s so silky and smooth!”.

In conclusion! Yona would be the best big sister ever 🫂

Hak

At the palace you two only knew each other by name,

Only running into each other when Hak would be assigned to your section of the palace.

The day that the King died when Hak and Yona were escaping they found you peaking out of your room.

He was quick on herding you and your sister into a protected blob,

And at that moment he made a promise to not only protect Yona but you as well.

Though after finding the dragons and going through adventures together he’d frequently tease you.

Regardless of his harsh teasing, he still cared, and protected you.

“Hey shrimp! Be careful!”

In his eyes you were like a puppy. Walking around smiling while unknowingly falling into danger.

It gave him a lot of stress.

He’d always keep you in the corner of his eye, appearing out of no where whenever you need him.

You’d trip on a rock falling towards your impending doom when out of no where Hak would hoist you back up on to your feet

“Tsk, you weren't listen huh, I said be careful!”

Whenever you'd go missing or get injured he’d take it personally, and throw a tantrum

As in get his hands dirtied with the blood of those who did you wrong..

Though Hak would never admit it, he’d actually developed a big soft spot for you in his heart.

So pretty much a mean but secretly soft older brother🤼‍♀️

Yoon

Honestly the first time he saw you he was a bit upset.

Not only did he have to deal with one spoiled princess but two! Oh.. the tragedy for this sassy pretty boy :((

But the closer he got to Yona the closer he got to you.

Actually Yoon would start playing favorites-

Whenever he cooked a meal and you’d ask him for more he’d immediately give in, and huff almost as if you had forced him to. (which you didn't, you asked nicely)

“F-fine! Take it!” He’d puff

Like the mom he was he would scold you whenever you’d leave the camp alone searching for firewood.

Though every time you showed him of how capable you were he'd ignore the evidence and pull up with the "BUT WHAT IF?" counter claim. Stubborn man doesn't stop INSISTING for you to take a battle buddy

The day you joined the pirate crew and had to prove your worth by climbing the cliff with Yona he had nearly collapsed

He was absolutely opposed to putting his sweet summer child into danger, immediately throwing a fuss when the idea was proposed

Whenever he saw you break out into a fever he’d worry THE MOST

After treatment he’d sit and watch over you a long side Yona.

And whenever you needed him he’d always be there, no matter how far or impossible, this man absolutely adored you.

Though his too much of a sas to admit it he really cares for you, and his heart melts whenever your around. ❤️

Kija

Was honestly confused by your existence LOL, he wasn’t sure if he was suppose to serve you..? or be indifferent..? I mean you had red hair but uh???

In the end though he didn’t settle for any of those options… he settled on having a crush LOL

Whenever you spoke to him he’d completely meltdown into a puddle, his words becoming intangible.

“Y-y-YEs! H—ow.. uh uh- C-can I he-elp!” He’d stutter out turning bright red,

“Uh.. Kija you ok?” You’d tilt your head in confusion before Kija would only squeak in response, and bolt away.

In the end though Kija had decided to protect you, and respect you.

Whenever the situation would turn dangerous a switch would flip and he’d suddenly have the courage to be near you.

Though if he saw even just a drop of your blood he’d immediately panic and rush towards you, tears prickling in his eyes

You’d have to hug and comfort him before he’d stop panicking and crying-

Please be nice to him! He doesn’t know how to approach his crush but his trying his very best LOL-

Zeno

The first time he had a proper conversation with you he was completely struck through the heart.

*grabs* your my friend now!

And from that point onwards whenever you’d approach Zeno his eyes would shine even brighter and his cheeks would turn flush 😊

Also he'd become more petty, and sarcastic to others when the subject became you.

"Hey! Whacha up to." He'd beam

The boy would never leave you alone, following you around with a big smile

"Zeno do you need something?"

"Nope!"

You kinda just let him do his thing, silently following you as you worked on making a fire.

Zeno always tried making attempts at small talk.

He really just wanted your attention, as well as to hear your voice

His clingy needs probably stems from his past. He didn't want to waste a single moment without being near you.

"Nope! Sorry, I want them to do it!"

The most frustrating and stubborn man, would always want YOU to do things for him, otherwise he'd all together refuse what's given to him.

You had your sweet moments though, he'd take the time to make flower crowns, and give you cute little homemade gifts.

And you had to admit, the boy had the prettiest, and brightest smile, so it was always a blessing for you to see him happy.

[thesupreme316]

hi i was wondering if you could do aew boys reacting to you getting injured this is my first request. i love you storys🩷

OF COURSE SWEETHEART and thank you so much for the kind words

AEW Stars React to You Getting Injured:

Pairings: Hook X Reader, Eddie Kingston X Reader, Dante Martin X Reader, Ricky Starks X Reader, MJF X Reader, Kenny Omega X Reader, Daniel Garcia X Reader

Word Count: 1.1K

Supreme Speaks: hiiiiii...sorry for the spam for the past couple of days (just wanna get these requests out and make room for more)...THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT AND LOVE. thank you to @aew190 for the request. also the reader is unspecified so gender neutral (tailor it to your liking). Please remember that you are loved and appreciated.

Warning: not proofread

Taglist: @wwenhlimagines @hooks-martin @aew190 @hookerforhook @sheinthatfandom @eddie-kingstons-wifey

Backstory:

You were in a match (with an opponent of your choosing)

You were about to attempt a diving move (or signature move)

But then your opponent countered it; causing you to slip and hit your shoulder first extremely hard

You felt immediate pain and laid on the mat for a little bit as the ref checked on you

You decided to continue the match and you won, making the crowd cheer

Clutching your shoulder, you were able to walk yourself to the back where your boyfriend/best friend sat

Hook:

Man is worried; but it’s concerning to those around him

Like this man has not moved, blinked, nothing since you took that bump

Even though it wasn’t that bad of a bump, you dislocated your shoulder

He just kept looking at how you clutched your arm in pain

Hook lightly hugged your other side and whispered “As long as you’re okay, everything is fine.”

This man would be the best nurse; you never would have to lift a damn finger

Hook carries your bags, has all your favorite drinks and snacks in his bookbag, and never complains

Gives frequent updates to The Lads

“They lifted their arm today….to throw a pillow at me. But still, progress.”

Will help you gain your strength through workouts and therapy

Eddie Kingston:

Man is worried but he runs around like a chicken with his head cut off

Cussing everyone and they momma out, “Fuck you, fuck you, hi Ishii, and FUCK YOU CLAUDIO”

After figuring out the injury was not as bad as it could have been, Eddie immediately becomes that nurse that will do their job while complaining

You: Can you help me put this hoodie on?

Eddie: Oh my gawd, you are so needy….but yeah fo sure I gotchu

He doesn’t like to see you in pain; will distract you with old wrestling or him just going off about people

Despite him saying that he doesn’t like you or want to help you, he will never leave your side and will do anything to comfort you during this

(Man will tell jokes but never lies)

Will act like everything he does is no problem or it means nothing, but it does mean something to both you and him

Is secretly planning for revenge

Kenny Omega:

THIS SWEETHEART WOULD BE CRUSHED

His heart would literally fall apart as he realized what happened

Keeps watching the match to make sure nothing else happens

When you come backstage, he already talked to Tony about taking you off TV for a little bit

Gives you all the time and attention in the world

Wears your merch for support

Gets online to find a specialist for your injury

Will not leave your side; Kenny might actually move into your house temporarily to help out

“Why the hell is all your cups so damn high? This is not safe for a short injured demon like yourself.”

Kenny will spend all his days playing video games with you, helping you around the house, and getting you back in shape for the ring

All to make sure that you’re okay and safe

Daniel Garcia:

Okay; hear me out

Man would freak out and then once learning that your injury is not that severe, would turn up

I’m talking man would act like you’re not hurt and drag you to every social gathering he could

Shit might throw you a recovery party

“One club, another club, another club, brunch, another club.”

It’s his way of comforting you; as a person who was injured, he was deprived of socializing with others

He doesn’t want that for you; he wants you to recognize that just because of your injuries, doesn’t mean that you have to miss out on your friends

Will do anything if you ask him though

Daniel will also FaceTime you a lot so that you’re not missed throughout the locker room;

“Everyone say hi to Y/N, now everyone boo them cause they're not here.”

Ricky Starks:

Man is worried at first because he’s fought numerous injuries before

More or so worried about the aftermath of it for you; doesn’t want you to get left behind

Instantly thinks of ways for you to be on TV without being in the ring and pitches them on your behalf

Ricky: So then, Y/N interrupts them and is like “Hell No” like Brandi to Jade

TK: Ricky I-

Ricky: Wait your turn…..jackass

Is forever right beside you in case you need anything; doesn’t want you to feel alone

Will go with you to all your consultations and stuff, bring you all your favorite food and stuff

I also think Ricky would be the one to stop everything just to check on you; where it’s over the phone or in person

Also, if you have a cast or a brace, Ricky will bedazzle it in your sleep

Dante Martin:

THIS BABY

HE SUCH A BABY

As he is injured and his brother suffered from numerous injuries, he was instantly feeling bad for you

Lets you know that you are not alone

Sits backstage with you as The Lads got matches and storylines; talks about anything and nothing

I think (because of the fact Dante and I were born in the same year) Dante would definitely be cracking jokes about this

“At least we got each other during this. I got one leg and you got one arm, we’re practically one full person.”

Dude will do anything to make you smile;

Feels more content and happy with you beside him

Ya’ll are constantly pushing each other to go to physical therapy and recovery

if ya’ll weren’t dating beforehand, you definitely are now

MJF:

Instantly roasts you on Twitter

….Idk why you expected anything else…

Anyways, he would definitely take care of you by giving care and attention

While roasting you to your face; you are never safe from this man’s wrath

“You look like death…..NO YOU LIKE OPTIMUS PRIME WHEN HIS ARM GOT SLICED OFF AHAHA”

Will buy you unnecessary and extreme items for your recovery; but claims that he needs the state-of-the-art towel warmer (really it's for you)

ALSO the man will buy you a Burberry scarf and tell you it’s a fake, but it's actually real

I think he genuinely feels bad that you are injured and will try to make your life easier during this time in his own way

If he can’t be there for you, he’s bringing you on the road to keep an eye on you; will never leave you alone tbh

To others, Max just doesn’t really care for you but you and him both know that he’s trying his best and that’s all that matters