#Emotional Hurt/ Comfort | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sorcerersseestars · 2 months ago

Text

love sweet, taste bitter

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

To you, Gojo Satoru is your silly, loving boyfriend. But Gojo Satoru is also the strongest sorcerer in the world, and that comes with its risks—for both you and him. When his Infinity fails to activate, your mission takes a turn for the worse.

Aka one of you gets hurt, and the other has to bear it.

Warnings: injuries and violence, a gun is used, blood loss, hidden inventory arc spoilers, fight btwn Gojo and reader, reader implied to be shorter/smaller than Gojo, slightly suggestive (not rlly), lowkey a lot of kissing tho??, bad communication skills, emotional whiplash bc gojo doesn't know what to do w his feelings

Word count: 9.2k

*Gojo and reader are in their early 20s

"Cursed technique reversal: red,” Gojo calls out casually, lazily flicking his right index finger at his target.

The curse—hardly an intelligent one, far from being special-grade—stares at the brilliant light with bulging eyes. It's a deer in the headlights, transfixed by Gojo’s power and paralyzed with fear. You can only imagine how that would feel.

You tear your eyes away from the sight of the curse disintegrating into nothing. It's not as gruesome as most curse exorcisms, considering the potency of Gojo’s attacks, but the curse’s expression fading into nothingness still makes your skin crawl. You almost pity the horrible creature.

In comparison to the macabre scene you just witnessed, Gojo's enthusiastic noise of approval nearly gives you whiplash.

"Another job well done by yours truly!" Gojo grins, giving you two thumbs up. "Now let's hurry before that new boba place closes. You said you really wanted to try it, right?"

It takes you a moment to respond, your mind still processing how insanely fast your boyfriend was able to eradicate a threat that would have taken you both a good strategy and a fair bit of time to exorcise. It took practically no effort for Gojo to eliminate, and you know that he fears no curse. For you, fear grips you each time you face off with a curse, no matter how big or small. It doesn't feel fair.

Your fingers curl into a fist as you struggle with your emotions, frustrated with yourself. When you look to him, beyond his shades and into his powerful eyes, something akin to envy pulls at your gut. It makes you feel sick—you're viewing him in the way everybody else sees him. But when he walks toward you, smiling so wide that he looks goofy, your thoughts of his abilities melt away and are replaced by an affection so strong that your chest hurts.

His eyes are so beautiful, their perpetual sparkle even visible from under the dark film of his shades. His cheeks are tinged pink from your constant gaze on him, and it still amazes you that you have the ability to make him fluster at all. His lips are stretched into a toothy grin, his eyes crinkling along in genuine happiness. Your stunning boyfriend that you still can't believe ever gained an interest in plain old you.

That's right. To you, he's not the Honored One, he's not Gojo Satoru. He's just your boyfriend, just your Satoru. Just your boyfriend who is obsessed with anything sweet.

You roll your eyes lightly, a small chuckle bubbling up in your throat, “You mean, the place you've been begging to go to all week?"

He walks to your side, sighing loudly as he approaches. His deft fingers subtly adjust his sunglasses, pulling them down in an attempt to garner your sympathy. The expression on his face is priceless—the strongest sorcerer in the world is pouting because you insinuated you might not want milk tea.

"Don't be so mean, sweets!” He whines. "You said you wanted to try it out, too.”

“Hm, did I now?” You say with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “I don’t recall.”

He steps closer, towering over your smaller form. When you dwell on that thought, you suppose you should be scared. You see him brutally destroy curses, leaving no trace of their existence behind. He could do that to you, if you wanted to.

Even knowing that, you aren’t scared.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you close to his chest. You can feel his strength through the solid grip he has on you—his arms lovingly cage you in.

Even though he’s done this many times before, your breath still catches in your throat, and your heart races at the proximity.

“C'mon, l know you've been craving brown sugar boba all week... And they even have that tiramisu flavor you go crazy for…”

He nuzzles in close to your neck, warm breath fanning down your nape. When he's this close, you can't resist anything—and he knows it, too.

You sigh as if he's ruffled your feathers, but you can't help but let the chuckle you’ve been holding in escape past your upturned lips.

“Do they have cheese foam?" You hum.

You yelp as his fingers dig into your side—and then your entire body is wracked with heaving, boisterous laughter.

"What a silly question. Of course they do! Only the amateurs lack the essential toppings,” He shakes his head playfully. “Any more funny business out of you, and you'll get punished again."

You twist around in his grasp to face him. Your hand reaches up to ease his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, putting his vibrant blue eyes and pale lashes on display.

“You're so pretty it's unfair,” You pout. "Leave some for the rest of us."

"And yet everyone's always trying to steal you away from me," He counters.

"Says the head-turner," You say with a smile full of your adoration for him. “Haven't you noticed that the rest of the population—myself included—never has all eyes on them when entering a room?"

He shrugs, “How would I know? You think my eyes are on anyone else once I see you?"

The insinuation has heat and electricity coursing through your entire body. He wears a smirk as if he can feel the flames licking your skin. You lower your gaze, suddenly shy.

A warm hand cups your check, gently nudging your face close to his. Your eyes instinctively flit up to his, drinking him in.

His eyes are bright behind his shades. You laugh softly when his shades fully slide down to the edge of his nose as he lowers his head to yours.

“Makin’ fun of me, babycakes?” He pretends to pout, but his tone is playful and warm.

“Maybe,” You tease. “I mean, you are freakishly tall and have glow in the dark eyes. And you call me all sorts of weird names.”

“You–!” He gasps. “You are such a rascal, y’know that? A fiend, even!”

“Mmm,” You hum, humoring him. “Well, would such a fiend as myself do…this?”

You lean in, savoring the warmth of his hands on you. His skin, smooth from its lack of wear due to his Infinity, skates across your skin effortlessly. Your lips are about to touch his, only inches away from bliss, when you both are caught off guard.

There’s a loud bang. So loud, in fact, that your ears ring as soon as the sound waves hit your eardrums. You stagger back from Gojo, crouching down and immediately covering your ears with your hands. You look up at your boyfriend, expecting to exchange confused glances, and are not prepared in the slightest for the scene in front of you.

His eyes are blown wide, shades now missing. Beads of sweat begin to form on his forehead and all color has drained from his face. His expression quickly crumples, lips parting and yet no sound escapes him.

A shudder runs through you—something is very wrong.

Then his shaky hands begin to move, and he quickly clutches his side. Right under his ribs, a stream of blood begins to run down his body, escaping between his fingers. You watch in horror as it pours down at an alarming rate, and you begin to put the pieces together.

Satoru has been shot.

His name leaves your mouth in a panicked howl and then you can't speak anymore, as if all the air has escaped from your lungs. Your mind is ripped back to when Toji Fushiguro sliced Gojo to shreds in front of you. His blood splattering everywhere while you watched on in horror, immobilized and completely useless, not able to do anything but watch the terrors unfold. Not again, not again, it can’t happen again, is what replays through your mind.

You have no more time to linger on that chilling memory. More pops sound through the air, deafening you and spiking fear in the blood that rushes through your veins. It can't happen again. You can't see him like that again.

You immediately throw yourself at your boyfriend, desperately trying to shield him with your body, even though it’s nearly impossible with how tall he is. You shove him down, attempting to cut down his frame to meet yours so that you can cover him, and notice something odd. You can still feel his warmth—your skin brushes against his, when it shouldn’t. Not right now, it shouldn’t.

You move to the side with quick steps and try to pull him along with you, but are unable to. Your heart sinks. He’s completely dead weight. You’re strong in your own regard, but there’s no way you can pick him up and take off with him.

"Satoru, please! C'mon, we have to go, we need to. Please," You plead with him, gripping him so tightly that your hands ache. When he doesn't respond, you start to shake him, trying to get any reaction out of him, but to no avail.

He’s in shock. It’s obvious with his lack of reaction, with how he lets himself be man handled under your body. He prides himself in his ability to protect those around him—he wouldn’t just let you put yourself in the line of fire if he was in his right mind. You know fully well that Gojo could eliminate the shooter in mere moments if he assumed his normal calm and nonchalance—but, unfortunately, his mind is in a freeze state. The bare skin under your fingertips is evidence of this, which only exacerbates your rising panic.

“Your Infinity!” You shout, your voice raw from panic. “Satoru, your Infinity! You need to turn it on! Now!”

Still grasping Satoru tightly, you endure the next round that is emptied into the space next to you—a bullet whistles by your ear, too close for comfort. Gojo’s breathing is ragged, his eyes staring into nothing and appearing so far away at the same time.

You duck down to his eye level and grab his chin, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Satoru, please! Snap out of it! Please!”

For a few seconds, his gaze locks with yours. His eyes, usually such a vivid blue, are darkened by how large his pupils are. You plead with him, unable to keep your terrified tears at bay.

Then you’re slightly bumped back, now pressing against what feels like a wall, and your body becomes weak with relief. He finally activated his Infinity.

But you're not out of danger yet. Your brain scrambles as you try to figure out how to get out of this while your boyfriend is evidently in shock.

You dare a glance back, eyes scouring the landscape, and immediately curse. As you suspected, you are most definitely being sniped. The enemy has the advantage of higher ground and generous foliage for coverage, while you and Satoru are exposed out in the open clearing below. If you had more time and brain power, you could triangulate their location, but that's just not possible right now.

Even if you were able to surmise their location, you don't even think you can fight back right now, not with how exposed your position is and with how vulnerable Gojo is in this state. And if you can't fight, then you have to flee.

Projectile weapons are ineffective against a moving target—this simple knowledge is what sways your decision. Even though it didn’t work before, you grab Satoru, still trying to keep him low, and begin to run. You breathe a little easier when he moves along with you.

More shots whizz past you, but you keep going, pumping your legs as fast as you can while making sure to be the rear guard. It’s obvious that they’re targeting Gojo—if they hit you, it would merely be collateral damage. The bullseye is on Gojo’s back, not yours.

You don’t stop running until you hit the tree line, and even then you hurriedly usher Gojo behind a stocky trunk many meters back. Before you can catch your breath, you're ripping off your jacket with haste. Quickly realizing that the material is not ideal for the job you intend it for, you quickly tear your shirt from your body. It’s sweaty from all your activity, but it’ll have to do.

You brush away Gojo’s hands, firmly pressing the cloth to his wound. You practically collapse onto your boyfriend as you apply firm pressure, your forehead dipping down to rest on his shoulder. You're wracking your brain for what to do next when Gojo gently pushes you back, places his hands on yours, and shakes his head.

You can't help but think the worst. What does that mean? Is it like that time? Am I too late again?

“I'm sorry, I know it hurts, but y-you're bleeding so much that I have to. Fuck, I’m really sorry for making you run, I’m sure that made it worse, but we just had to get away from whoever was shooting, oh god, how badly did they get you, fuck, this is my fault–”

You don’t realize you’re rambling until he cuts you off. You don't realize you're crying until he brushes the tears away.

“Hey. Stop, sweets. I’m fine, it already stopped bleeding.”

“What? But that can’t be, you were literally shot–”

He raises his shirt, revealing a pink layer of new skin.

He offers you a weak smile, but something is off about it. “Reverse cursed technique, remember? Nobody’s gonna take me down that easily.”

You release a big breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. The weight on your shoulders finally eases as you look over his new layer of skin.

“Oh fuck, I’m so glad you’re okay,” You sniffle, leaning in quickly for a hug. “I–mmph!”

You stumble back a step, blinking in surprise. This has never happened before—you hit his invisible barrier.

His eyes widen. “Fuck, sorry, I didn’t mean to–“

“No, no, it’s okay!” You wave your hands, trying to dispel his apology. You feel flustered and stiff, awkwardness seeping into your mannerisms. “It’s good that it’s on now.”

It’s then that the disturbing thought hits you. Maybe he should always have his Infinity on. Maybe you’re endangering him.

Gojo holds out his arms for you, now inviting you in. You pause, your thoughts echoing through your head. You take a beat too long—you know he senses your momentary hesitation, and how slowly and gingerly you come into his arms doesn't feel right.

“You okay? Did you get hit?” He asks, squeezing you tightly in his arms. “Fuck, please tell me you didn’t.”

With your head pressed to his chest, you can hear how rapidly his heart beats. He’s scared. He’s scared for you, even though he was the one who got hurt.

His hands run over you, checking for any injuries. You pull yourself out of his embrace gently to still his hands.

You shake your head, “No, I’m fine. But you…you got hurt, Satoru. They shot you.”

And it’s absolutely your fault. If you hadn’t been touching him, this never would have happened. He let his guard down because of you.

“I’m alright now, sweets,” He reassures you, but his tone is again tinged with a strange emotion you can’t put your finger on. “Promise.”

“But–!” You exclaim, about to spill out all of your guilty feelings. The words don’t come, though, stopped by another fear. Will he also realize it’s your fault and get rid of you? Will he realize he doesn’t need you?

“Here,” He says, unballing your shirt and placing it in your hands. “This is proof that I’m fine. Your shirt’s..."

He inspects it funnily, scrunching up his eyebrows and staring at it intently, making a show of it to make you laugh. "...pretty clean and ready to be worn again. Well, unless you don’t want to…can’t say I wouldn’t mind you not putting it back on…there is a little speck of blood on it, after all...”

He smiles at you, a true grin that manages to lift up your weary heart. You burst out laughing, and swat his arm before you hurriedly take it from his hands.

“Satoru! We almost just died and you—” You still can’t contain your laughter, but it stops abruptly once you feel a large wet patch on your shirt. When you pull your hand back, your fingers are stained red with a surprising amount of blood.

“I swear it closed up before you…” He frowns, trailing off. His face turns serious for a moment, but then you touch his cheek with your clean hand and give him a quick peck.

You shrug, “It’s okay. No biggie.”

Face still close to yours, he chases your lips as you pull away from the peck. He kisses you deeply, catching you by surprise and forcing you to hold onto him for support.

"Satoru! I'm gonna get you all bloody with this hand..." You softly protest.

"Don't care," He murmurs quickly, leaning in again and kissing like you don't need to breathe. "It's mine anyway. Just like you."

"Mmph—Satoru—but you need to get looked at properly," You manage to say. "We have to go."

He reluctantly lets you slip out of his arms, sighing as he straightens to his full height.

He groans loudly, frowning at you, "Party pooper!"

"Yeah, yeah, get yourself ready," You fold your arms, acting like you didn't just immensely enjoy that.

He raises an eyebrow at you and smirks as his eyes scan your body.

"What?" You ask petulantly.

He sounds more excited than you’d like, “So…no more shirt?”

You sigh, exasperated, and quickly smooth the shirt back over your body. He laughs and wraps himself around your smaller form, squishing you back against his chest. You relax against him, digging your nose into him, taking in his comforting scent. You both are silent for a few moments, soaking up each other's presence.

“That was scary,” You whisper.

Gojo sighs, “It was pathetic, that’s what it was.”

You snap your head up to look at him. “Hey. What are you saying?”

He shakes his head, looking frustrated. “Doesn’t matter. Let’s just…let’s just head back.”

“Satoru…” You start with a warning tone.

“Don’t wanna talk about it right now,” He says flatly. “Besides, we should go back and see Shoko just in case. I want you to get looked over, too."

You want to question him further, but hold your tongue. You know better than to press him when he’s like this.

“Huh? Why’s that?” You simply ask instead, genuinely confused.

He frowns as he looks at your head, scrutinizing it as if something was wrong. Before you can question him, he forms a fist and–

Knock, knock.

“You think it’s in there?” He asks seriously. “Sounds pretty hollow.”

Your jaw drops in disbelief at the absolute disrespect. There’s no way he just knocked on your skull to check if your brain is still in your head.

“GOJO SATORU! Are you- are you implying I don’t have a BRAIN?!” You screech, taking hold of his sorcerer jacket to jostle him around. “Do you have a death wish?!”

He laughs, then uses the same fist to roughly rub your scalp. He even gave you a fucking noogie!!

“That’s it! Take me to Shoko.” You pout, crossing your arms and turning around so your back faces Gojo.

“Aww, sweets, you want a second opinion?” He coos, moving forward to wrap his arms around you from behind. “I’m sure she’ll be able to confirm it…”

“Ugh!”

"...with how willingly you throw yourself into danger."

You stop smiling. "What?"

He's not smiling either, and its absence looks strange on his face. His gaze is almost cold. "Don't do that again."

There are no words that come to your mind, but you wish you could protest and justify your actions and convince him that it was necessary. Instead, you stand there dumbly, transfixed by his cold aura.

Then he smiles sweetly again, as if that hadn't just happened. "Let's go, shall we?"

Shoko sighs loudly at your arrival. "What was it this time?"

"Actually, we're not sure," You admit, looking to Gojo to see if he has any possible answers. When he says nothing, you continue, "We didn't see what—or rather who–it was. 'Must have been a cursed user."

"Even Mr. Six Eyes didn't see them?" Shoko asks, raising an eyebrow. "That's hard to believe. And here I was always thinking he should leave some eyes for the rest of us."

She looks to Gojo teasingly, but he doesn't take the bait. Shoko looks to you with a questioning gaze that says something like—what's up with him?

"It's complicated..." You supply vaguely.

"Well, whoever it was must be bad news," She says. "How did they get Gojo if you couldn't see them?"

"They had guns," You explain. "It was a sniper...or a few snipers, I'm not sure if it was just one or if there was another one too. Their aim wasn't the best, but they got Satoru one time...they shot a few rounds at us, but I guess they got lucky with that shot."

You can't look at him. If you look at him, you'll see his skin pale and washed out from the blood dripping down his abdomen. You'll see his body lacerated and unrecognizable from Toji's ruthless assault. You are always useless, hopelessly useless.

You look at your feet instead and ignore the sour taste of bile in your mouth.

Gojo's cocky snicker brings you back to attention, "They were pretty terrible. They only got one hit, but they should have known better. As if that loser shit would work against me."

Shoko's eyes are on you again, and you know why. Gojo doesn't normally get injured. And by someone with nothing more than a gun? How could he even get hit with Infinity?

Even if you were speaking, you're not sure you would have the strength to tell her. It's my fault he didn't have his Infinity on, is the answer that resonates painfully in your chest. The guilt threatens to consume you whole, but you push it down.

"Everything is 'loser shit' to you with RCT," Shoko decides on. "But I have to say I'm just a little surprised you got hit."

"Yeah, yeah, but I'm all good now," Gojo says dismissively.

"Let me see at least," Shoko rolls her eyes. "Aren't you here to see me for my medical expertise or what?"

"What, we can't see our dear friend otherwise?" You tease with a pout. "You wound me, Shoko."

"That wouldn't be ethical of me,” Shoko plays along, then turns back to doctor mode once she starts getting her supplies ready. "Did you get hurt too?"

“No, just Satoru,” You say with a shake of your head. “You don’t have to check me over.”

She narrows her eyes at you. “I’ll come back to you.”

“Huh? But Shoko…” You trail off, seeing she has already begun inspecting Gojo.

“I’m all good,” Gojo rolls his eyes, but it doesn’t have quite the usual touch of playfulness it usually does. “C’mon, Shoko, don’t waste your time on this. We both know I can’t really get hurt.”

He winks at you, and you smile in return. That almost makes you feel better—he’s being more like himself.

“Uh-huh, but they certainly won’t let me rest until I do a proper check-up,” Shoko says. “You’ve got a persistent one, did ya know?”

He only chuckles at that, giving her some peace to look him over and prod him here or there.

“Well, you’re all good, as expected. It doesn’t seem like there’s any soreness, which is a good sign.”

“My RCT isn’t just for show!” Gojo says proudly. “Works just as good as yours, Shoko.”

She rolls her eyes, “Uh huh. Now, let’s get on to your ‘sweets’.”

You stick your tongue out at her, blushing, “Shoko, I have a name!”

“Not in these parts,” She teases easily, waggling her eyebrows at you. “Alright, just sit up straight for me now. Just gonna prod you a bit, okay?”

You nod, unworried as you let her hands inspect you. You relax and are about to crack a joke about getting a free massage from bestie Shoko, but you find yourself writhing in pain instead. You definitely didn’t expect yourself to wince—and yet you find yourself doing so, hissing out in pain as a stinging suddenly surfaces on your back.

Gojo sits up in alarm at your reaction and quickly jumps up from his cot, making his way over to you and Shoko. “What’s wrong?”

He’s practically hovering over you before Shoko shoos him away with a wave of her hand, motioning for him to let her do her job. He keeps away, but his gaze is trained on the spot her hand is touching.

She lifts your shirt fully, carefully inspecting the wound. It’s bleeding steadily, yet neither of you even noticed it before this moment.

“You got hit?” Gojo practically mewls. He’s never sounded this small and weak before. “But you were—I thought you were fine..."

Now it makes sense why your hand was tinged red when you pulled your hand back from the shirt earlier. It wasn't from Satoru's wound at all—it's your blood.

When you turn to Satoru, you look into a mirror. You know that's how you must have looked earlier when you looked at his bullet wound in horror.

“You probably didn’t feel it because of the adrenaline," You hear Shoko telling you. "It appears to be a graze, but it got you pretty good. There’s no bullet or shrapnel, which might be why you didn’t feel it in the moment.”

You feel embarrassed for some reason. “I seriously didn’t feel anything…it’s fine, then, right?”

Satoru is pale again. Emotions swirl in his agitated eyes—you can’t quite decipher them, since they cycle so fast, but he looks…haunted.

But he shouldn't, not when everything boils down to being your fault.

You immediately turn your attention to Satoru, becoming apprehensive about the look in his eyes. You smile at him softly, eyes crinkling along with your lips, trying to signal that you’re really okay, that there’s nothing to worry about.

But you don’t see the pool of blood steadily growing behind you, Satoru does.

“I’m okay, Satoru,” You smile, but it falters when Shoko presses gauze against your wound.

“Let me be the judge of that,” Shoko sighs. “Lay on your stomach and try not to move too much. I'm going to wrap you, okay? I need to grab some things, but I’ll be right back.”

"Okay..." You accept softly, still surprised by this turn of events.

You obey Shoko's orders and begin to lower yourself onto the hospital bed. You grit your teeth when the skin on your back stretches, irritating your newly discovered wound. You blink once and suddenly he's by your side, holding you steady and angling you so your back doesn't have movement while he gently lays you down.

"Thanks," You say. "I'm fine though, Satoru, really..."

“You don’t see yourself,” He speaks lowly, quietly. “Worry about yourself some.”

You’re left reeling at his words—more so by how he says them. His voice is so weak, uncharacteristically soft and completely candid.

“I’m fine,” You insist, shaking your head. “I didn’t even feel it. It can’t be so bad then, can it?”

You don’t miss the way Gojo’s jaw sets. He didn’t like that response. You see something you don't understand in his eyes, a flash of a strong emotion you didn’t anticipate. You avert your gaze, but it’s burned into the back of your eyes.

The click of Shoko’s heels alerts you of her return. Gojo watches his old friend carefully, taking in her furrowed brow and the way her eyes jump between your wound and her supplies, analyzing. She seems confused, as if she underestimated the severity of your wound. His hands curls into fists, watching your blood drip over the edge of the bed and dropping messily onto the ground below.

Shoko pulls her gloves on swiftly, grabbing a bottle of antiseptic and preparing it for application.

“Sit tight, my friend,” Shoko tells you with a deep exhale. “I gotta get started on this. First I’m going to sterilize it, then you’re going to need stitches. I’m sorry to say we won’t have the luxury of time to sedate you for that.”

You gulp. Your pain tolerance is okay, but you really hate the feeling of anticipating pain. Knowing something will hurt is infinitely more scary to you than getting injured in battle, when your adrenaline is high and it just happens without warning.

You reach your hand out hesitantly, feeling silly for needing comfort just for a few stitches, and are surprised by the immediate grasp on your hand. It’s tight but not uncomfortable; it’s warm and it grounds you.

You grit your teeth and try to limit your whimpers of pain as she treats your wound. You can’t stop yourself from squirming when the needles pulls at your skin again and again, even when she places a heavy hand on your back to hold you in place. All throughout, Gojo’s hand squeezes yours, carrying you through this uncomfortable ordeal.

When it’s finally over, you feel exhausted.

“You did great,” Shoko praises you. “Your wound should be all good for now.”

You let out a small chuckle of relief, almost giddy to be done with the dreaded stitches. You sit up and slide off the bed, wanting to get back on your feet to feel some normalcy, to convince yourself you’re fine.

You truly felt nothing before, but it must be catching up to you now. Your knees threaten to buckle under you as dizziness overtakes you—you wobble on your two feet.

Both Shoko and Gojo rush to you, each taking a side to support you.

“You lost a considerable amount of blood,” Shoko warns in her doctorly tone. “Slow down and take it easy from now on.”

You laugh sheepishly, rubbing the back of your head, “I’m good! Just stood up a bit too fast.”

Shoko releases your arm, but Gojo doesn’t let go. He holds you steady, even pulling you toward him, supporting the majority of your weight.

“I can stand, y’know…” You laugh softly, finding his overprotective actions a bit amusing. But all the humor drains from the situation when you meet his gaze.

You see it in his eyes again, a dark flicker that almost makes you nervous. Before you can muster the courage to question him about it, Shoko interrupts your silent musings.

“Listen closely. I know you like to be up and about, as you just demonstrated, but I want you to limit your movement as to not disturb your stitches. A little walking should be fine, but do not exert yourself. No exercising or training for the next few days. Come see me in three days so I can clear you—if it’s looking good—for activity.”

You resist a sigh, settling on a playful roll of your eyes. “Yes, mom.”

She smirks, “Good. Now get out of here, you two, before I get your couples cooties.”

“Har, har, har,” You pretend to laugh, before sticking your tongue out at her. “Very funny, Shoko.”

It strikes you that Gojo has been unusually quiet, not joining in on your mutual jokes. When you spare a glance, you observe that his facial expression is neutral, if a bit strained. No smile, no cocky smirk. That’s uncommon.

You look at Shoko, exchanging more unspoken words with a few blinks. That confirms it—he’s acting strange.

You want to ask him what’s wrong, but he know he won’t tell you here.

“Ready to go?” You ask instead.

“Ready as ever,” He tries a half smile. It’s not very convincing.

You nod and lean into him, angling your head to smile up at him. Your smile is innocent and sweet. His chest squeezes at the sight, full of a jumble of emotions. He doesn’t reveal any of them; he absently plays with a strand of your hair instead.

As you look up at him, closely examining his soulful eyes for any traces of the emotion from earlier, to see if it still lingered. But the intense emotion is gone, replaced by an even and controlled gaze, leaving you to only wonder at the clear flash of anger you saw earlier in his bright eyes.

When you come back home, Gojo is unusually quiet. He mumbles something about taking a shower when you get back, leaving your side as soon as he gets the chance. You really wouldn't mind, but he seems rather... avoidant, especially with his ensuing actions.

You plop yourself down on your couch, trying to get comfy while keeping your back straight, a nearly impossible feat. Feeling restless, you tap your foot while you watch condensation from a glass on the coffee table in front of you drip down the sides. With each drop that falls, your heart beats a little faster.

You prepared a cool glass of water and a bowl of Satoru’s favorite sweets for when he's done, anticipating a binge of a show you both recently discovered. But, instead of an evening full of your usual snuggles on the couch, him getting handsy while you ‘protest’ about missing the show, you are woken up to a different reality.

When you hear the click of the bathroom door, you straighten in your seat, excited to be close to him again. But before you can even call him over to the couch, Gojo heads straight to your bedroom. You wait a few minutes, assuming he's just changing, but you grow uneasy as the time ticks by.

Maybe he just wants space. Well, how long should you give him? Should you ask him if he wants space? But what if he's waiting for you? Does he just want to be in bed instead?

You wait and wait, tapping your foot anxiously on the floor and checking your phone every few minutes. When the supposed appropriate amount of time has passed, you hesitantly approach the bedroom.

You find yourself knocking on the door before you enter, even though you've never done that to your shared door before.

"Hey, Satoru?" You call out tentatively.

You stand in the doorway, scared to cross an invisible boundary. A sheepish smile is on your face, even though you try to get your lips to stretch normally.

He's on his phone, just scrolling. Oh, maybe he just got distracted by TikTok or something.

"Hm?" He barely responds, not even looking up.

“Is something bothering you?” You ask, worried. “Is it your side?”

“Why would it be my side?” Gojo asks flatly.

Your brow creases in confusion, but you try to keep a light tone. “Oh. Uh, what’s wrong, then?”

"Nothing, why would anything be wrong?" He gives you a tight-lipped smile. His tone is so strange—bordering on sarcastic—and you don’t know what to make of it. As he stands up and passes you, slipping out of the room hastily like you are what’s bothering him. The thought turns your stomach.

You pause for a beat, frozen in the doorway as you process what just happened. Then you turn around, eyes following his form as he enters the living room and unceremoniously sprawls across the couch. He crunches on some candy you brought in the bowl.

Okay. Maybe you should be more direct.

You walk over to him, cautious but trying not to appear nervous, “Satoru, can we talk?”

“We are talking,” He smiles oddly.

“You know what I mean…” You say with a note of annoyance coming through in your tone, then it turns softer. “Is something wrong? Did I do something?”

“Yes.”

You blink rapidly, surprised by his blunt answer. You take a seat next to him.

“Okay…could you tell me what I did?”

“…”

He’s not faking a smile anymore, which is a start. His lips are set in a firm, flat line, instead. His jaw is clenched and his neck muscles are emphasized due to how taut they are; you have rarely seen him tense like this. Your chest aches—what did you do?

“Please, Satoru, what’s wrong?” You ask again, each word filled with care and concern. And somehow, it seems to kill him.

“What’s wrong?” He echoes back loudly. “What’s wrong is that you stood in front of me while there was incoming fire! You can’t just do that.”

That’s not what you expected.

“What do you mean?” You frown.

“I just– fuck, why would you think to do that?” He stresses, pulling at his hair. “You took too much risk—you can’t use RCT!”

“Yeah, me and like ninety-nine percent of all sorcerers. Like it matters. You think I thought of that?” You huff.

“‘Like it matters?’ Are you hearing yourself right now?” He scoffs. “It matters a lot, and you know it does. It’s reckless.”

“When it comes to you, it doesn’t.” You say hotly, unwavering.

“It does matter. You got hurt when you shouldn’t have. When you didn’t need to!”

You’re surprised by his outburst. “I–I was only thinking about protecting you, okay? I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking about that! Caring about getting hurt? That was the last thing on my mind.”

“Yeah, it’s obvious you weren’t thinking,” He sneers. “There’s no need to risk your life like that. Absolutely no need.”

Your jaw drops in shock, and you try not to feel hurt. “You can’t be serious right now, Gojo. You were in no state to protect yourself. I was…doing my best, I just wanted to keep you safe.”

“I still got shot,” He argues back immediately, painfully reminding you.

A small, pained gasp escapes you. You spin around as fast as you can—tears are freely falling without your permission.

You want to tell him that’s not fair, but you don’t trust your vocal cords right now. Not with how tight your throat is from trying to hold back sobs that would surely wrack your body if you let them.

The guilt that has been trailing you all day now collects at the pit of your stomach, practically eating you alive. You feel physically sick. He’s right. He did get shot. He was vulnerable, his Infinity lowered because of you. If…if the bullet had gone through his head, what could you have done then?

You stand up as steadily as you can. You don’t spare him a single glance; you can’t, not with your face crumpling as you try your hardest not to cry. You exit the living room swiftly, holding it all in, all of your emotional pain but also your physical pain. Your wound is throbbing and it even feels hard to stay standing right now.

You finally round the corner into the hallway. Now out of view, you let yourself stagger down the hallway, succumbing to your dizziness. It’s your fault, your fault, only your fault. You can’t handle this right now.

You walk aimlessly down the hall, just wanting to get away from him right now. You wind up in the bathroom and lock the door behind you. You stand in front of the mirror, looking for something redeeming within yourself, but all you can see are your pathetic tears and guilt swimming in your eyes.

You grip the edge of the counter, so tightly that it begins to hurt and your fingers tremble at the effort. You feel unsteady, like the brain Gojo teased you don’t have is lacking oxygen. Maybe you really lack one if you think you could possibly be the right match for the strongest.

You sink to the ground, finally releasing heaving sobs that have been trying to claw themselves out of you. They’re muffled by your hands, which you press firmly against your mouth in an effort to contain your noises, but some of the sound leaks between your fingers. You stuff some of your shirt into your mouth to bite down on, trying to hold it all in, trying to hold yourself together.

Your breath hitches at a throb of pain from deep within your back. It hurts so much, even with the pain reliever Shoko gave you to take. It hurts more than when she was threading the needle between your folds of skin; it’s deeper than that, sharp and intense and robbing you of a normal breathing pattern.

Despite your efforts to keep quiet, pained whimpers start to leave you. And worse—panic floods you, taking advantage of your poor state of mind. All you can focus on is the stabbing pain that refuses to dull.

You rip off the gauze with shaking hands, terrified to see its state. But confusion fills you when there's only dried smears on it—that must be from earlier. If your wound is still closed, then why does it hurt so much?

You shift on the floor, limbs giving out. You contort in pain, which only makes things worse, pulling the stitches to their limits. They stay intact, but the tension brings waves of pain to your back. A yelp is ripped from your throat at a particularly painful pulse.

The thunder of incoming footsteps gives you both fear and a sense of relief. On one hand, you didn’t want him to hear; on another hand, right now all you crave is your boyfriend’s comfort.

“Hey, what was that?” He asks from behind the door, sounding on edge.

“Satoru…” You mewl out in pain.

He calls out your name, voice now urgent. You cringe at the resistance of the lock against his attempt at opening the door.

“M’sorry, I locked it,” You sniffle. “Stupid of me.”

But he still appears in front of you, a locked door holding nothing to his defiance of space and time. He takes one glance at your crumpled form on the floor and curses. All of the tension from earlier melts away, replaced by genuine worry and need.

“What happened? You okay? Did you fall?” He asks as he hurriedly crouches next to you. His hands reach out to you, gently pulling you into his lap. You wince as your back bends, aggravating your wound.

You shake your head. “No, it’s just—agh, fuck—just my back, it suddenly hurts so bad.”

He grimaces. “Can…can I take a look?”

You give your consent and he quickly peels your shirt up. His fingers shake as he does so, even though he doesn’t mind the sight of injuries or blood. Or, at least, when it’s not yours.

He slowly pulls your shirt up just enough to reveal your wound, fearing the worst. You shiver when the fabric chafes against your graze, and he murmurs an apology upon seeing your discomfort. One of his hands rubs soothing circles on your waist.

When he inspects your injury, he’s met with red, puffy skin—the area around your stitches is clearly inflamed, but not unsually so. He breathes a low sigh of relief.

“It looks a bit swollen,” He determines before pulling your shirt back down, careful not to let it touch your wound this time. “But not too bad.”

“It feels bad,” You whine.

"I know," He says gently. “I’ll call Shoko in a second to make sure it's alright. Do you want to head to the bed first?"

“Yes, please,” You request softly.

He hooks an arm under your knees, the other cradling your back. “Alright, sweets. Up we go."

He handles your weight like it’s nothing, and easily unlocks the door you stupidly locked on the way out.

Unshed tears prick your eyes. You couldn’t carry him earlier, even after he had been shot and couldn’t move. You are incapable, unable to handle what he can on a daily basis. Can your relationship really be mutual if he always has to act as the strongest? You could barely protect him earlier.

"It hurts that badly?" He references your teary eyes without mockery, only softness.

If only your tears were from that pain.

"It could be worse, I guess," is what you settle on, neither a lie nor the full truth.

"Could I make it better, maybe?" He asks with a suspicious smile. Before you can answer, he swings you around a few times like he normally would when he carries you, which draws a genuine laugh out of you.

"You're gonna make me dizzy!" You complain, but your smile is so pure and wide, something Gojo doesn't miss.

"You're so beautiful, sweets," He says, affectionately rubbing his nose against yours. You feel warm from the closeness.

You look away shyly, "Yeah, right."

"You don't believe me?" He asks huskily, placing a kiss on your cheek.

"Ugh! Put me down and call Shoko already! It stills hurts," You pout.

"If you say so," He says, but his little smirk is still planted on his face. He lays you down carefully, gently releasing you onto the pile of blankets.

He then turns around and dials the doctor in question, "Yo, Shoko."

You close your eyes, trying to ward off the radiating pain with deep breaths. Gojo's phone call turns to background noise, the words indecipherable.

You tune back into the world at the end of his conversation.

"Okay, thank you so much Ieiri."

You faintly hear Shoko's disgust on the other end of the line, "What's going on with you?? Please never thank me like that again, yuck!"

You can't hold back the giggle that bubbles up at Shoko's reaction. Gojo blows a raspberry into the speaker and promptly hangs up on her.

"What's the verdict?" You ask.

"Well, sweets," Gojo sing-songs. "Did you forget to do something?"

You look up in thought, your brows furrowing, "I don't think so..."

"Really?" He says, then produces a familiar orange pill container. You're forced to stare at it as he shakes it in front of your face. "What about this, hm?"

"What? I already took one," You say, a little indignantly. "When we first got home. It was so horrible tasting and was a giant horse pill, too...Ugh, get that bottle away from me, might as well throw it out. I don't want to take anymore later."

He cracks the bottle open, pouring one into his palm. You narrow your eyes at him. Before you can ask what he intends to do with it, that same pill is shoved into your mouth followed by an amount of water so large that you almost begin to choke.

You cough on the water, and he pats your back accordingly, as if he expected this.

"What-?! Are you trying to waterboard me? I said I already took one, and-" You cough again. "God, where did you even get that water from anyway?"

"Mm. But you didn't notice the pill this time, right?" He looks satisfied with himself.

You deadpan. "No, but-"

"Besides, you were spacing out before we left the infirmary. Shoko specifically said to take two pills when you came home, or else the pain might get bad."

Your face feels hot, "Oh, did she now? Hah hah...I must have misheard her..."

He sighs, and it's only now you notice how tired he looks. There's a lull in your conversation, and you use this time to truly observe him. Dark circles are prominent under his eyes—how come you never noticed that?—and his eyes hold a look of defeat.

He breaks the silence, speaking softly, "You worry me, y'know? When I came in and you were convulsing on the floor...I don't want to see you like that again."

You stay silent, not willing to risk jeopardizing this rare moment of complete and utter vulnerability from Gojo.

"And when Shoko lifted your shirt and there was so much blood pouring out of your back..." He closes his eyes, screwing them shut. "I didn't know what would happen. That really scared me. Even when Shoko said you'd be fine, I didn't believe her until it stopped. And even then, you looked so weak...you still do, and it kills me."

He looks down at the ground, between his hands that are interlocked so tightly that it looks like it would hurt.

"It fucking kills me inside that you got hurt protecting me, and you didn't even notice. If that bullet had come any closer, you-"

He stops abruptly, voice breaking. You reach forward, taking his large hands in yours.

"But it didn't. Look at me, Satoru. I'm fine, I really am. I promise."

He shakes his head vehemently, and you're shocked to see liquid trickle down his face. You almost startle when he embraces you so tightly that you can barely breathe, as if you could disappear at any moment. His head rests on your shoulder, effectively hiding his expression from view.

He whispers by your ear, "What's the use in being the strongest when I freeze up like that? I put you in so much fucking danger."

"Satoru, look at me," You ask again, but his head stays tucked in the crevice between your shoulder and collarbone. "Please."

He slowly raises his head, revealing the expression he tried to conceal. His eyes are glassy and his cheeks are tinged pink; it makes your heart hurt.

"You're not the strongest to me," You say. "You're not even Gojo Satoru. To me, you're Satoru. Just Satoru. You're human and have emotions and memories and trauma, just like everyone else."

You steel yourself for your next words, the ones that have been haunting your thoughts since he got shot.

"I know that what happened reminded you of that...that time with Toji. I-it felt the same for me, and this time...this time I couldn't stand to watch idly. I would rather die than watch that happen to you again. Especially since, this time, it was definitely my fault."

"Your fault?" He laughs dryly.

"Yes!" You instantly cry out, causing his eyes to widen.

"Haven't you realized by now?" You practically sob. "None of this would have happened if I hadn't been touching you. Because your Infinity lowered for me—fuck, it makes me sick saying this out loud—they were able to really hurt you. I'm the one endangering you, and i-if this keeps up then..."

He says nothing. Now that you admitted it, there's no taking it back. And there's no way that he can or should accept this. There's no way he should accept you, you who are so useless and weak and stubborn. And yet...

"That's all?" He says seriously. You're struck with a flash of frustration and anger at his dismissal, but the hard look in his eyes tells you he is just as frustrated and will not budge on this point.

"We'll be more careful. It's a lesson learned for sure, but I'm not giving you up anytime soon. That's what you wanted me to say, isn't it? That I was going to let you go."

You look down shamefully, "W-well..."

He barks out a sharp laugh, "That's not happening. Do you know why?"

You avoid his gaze, and your voice comes out small. "You pity me?"

"I love you." His voice is firm and so sure; it leaves no room for doubt.

Your eyes snap back to his. There’s no bandages or glasses in the way to obscure the emotion shimmering in them—an endless sea of affection and intensity and something else that you couldn’t capture in words even if you tried. Love.

He loves you.

“I love you, so you can’t be reckless. You just can’t, okay? I’ve been going crazy knowing you got hurt, but I couldn’t handle it if…” He takes a sharp breath. “It’s selfish of me, but I don’t fucking care. Nothing can happen to you. I’ll take all of your hits and all of your missions if it means you’ll be safe. You’re the one person I can’t handle losing.”

“Then you’ll understand I feel the same way,” You say with a determined look on your face. “It’s not like I planned to do what I did. It was all instinct. I didn’t care what would happen to me.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” He admits, voice raw and so unlike his usual self-assured tone. “You don’t value yourself enough. You matter so much, sweets, more than I could ever say in words. I’d do anything for you, to keep you safe.”

You counter, “And I would die for you, Satoru, because I love you. And I wouldn’t ever regret it.”

Your determined admission renders him silent.

Then he chuckles, “You’re stubborn, aren’t you, sweets? Of course you sound all cute and mad the first time you tell me you love me.”

Your eye twitches, but you exhale into a smile. “Maybe. But so are you!”

“How about this?” He proposes. “How about we both stay alive, live happily ever after, and drink boba and eat kikufuku for the rest of our days?”

“I think I know where this is going,” You say, suspicion clear in your voice. But you can’t stop the way your heart jumps at his words, the insinuation of spending the rest of your days with Satoru making you weak inside.

“Well, sweets, I have an idea,” He says softly, but his words are filled with excitement.

“Hmm?” You muse, playing along. “What is it?”

“I think we need a sweet treat to make us feel better. Don’t you think so? Maybe we could…check out that boba place I talked about earlier?”

“The one ‘I’ said I wanted to go to?” You ask, using air quotes and shaking your head in amusement.

“That’s the one!” He grins, throwing himself around your form. He squeezes you tightly, nuzzling into your neck. “I love you so much that I’ll treat you, seeing as you want to go so badly. Not that I really wanted to go or anything…”

“You’re such a bad liar!” You laugh, pinching his cheek. “But, Satoru…I meant what I said.”

You look at him seriously, not willing to let this slide. You don’t expect him to match your intense energy, but he does.

“So did I. You don’t have to worry about that anymore, because I’ll never let that happen again. I’ll always be here for you, sweets. I’ll always protect you. You can try, but I’ll never make that mistake again. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me, so I won’t let it. I love you too much to let it happen.”

Your heart feels like it could burst. You sniffle, not able to hold the tears back.

“Aw, is my baby crying?” He teases, gently thumbing the tears away from your cheeks. “You okay?”

“Mhm, just happy,” You nod and let out a watery laugh. “Hey, Satoru.”

“Yeah?” He hums.

“Do you love me enough to give me the last kikufuku later?”

You expect him to joke along with you, but he’s perfectly serious in his words back. Only you seem to have that effect on him.

“Even that,” He chuckles along with you, unbridled warmth and affection swimming in his baby blues as he gazes at you, eyes never leaving your form. “Even that, sweets.”

gojo masterlist <3

A/N: I don’t feel like this is the highest quality writing, but I felt really compelled to write this for some reason, so…oh well! <3 I hope it still turned out okay.

Also Satoru definitely should have apologized but I feel like he’s stubborn and hates apologizing so I left that out <3

I think this is the first time I've managed to not use (Y/N) HAHA, sometimes I see comments on other posts about how much it disturbs their immersive experience, so I'm going to try to limit my usage of it from now on...personally, I've seen and used it for so long that it's just part of my x reader vocabulary, but I understand why people don't like it lol.

Anyway, thank you for reading and I hope you had a great day today !! <333

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo hurt/comfort #jjk #gojo fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo feels guilty so he gets mad at you bc he’s dumb asf <3 #reverse comfort #gojo gives me emotional whiplash fr #gojo satoru #jjk fanfic

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paingoes · 3 days ago

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actually obsessed with restoring dignity in recovery

#i think its legitimately one of the most important things you can do #tagging this as whump but its also just real life lol #whump #whump prompts #whump prompt #whump writing #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #past emotional abuse #my prompts

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a-reader-and-a-writer · 3 months ago

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I Don't Understand You

Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader Summary: Although your lives are very different, you and Tyler have been happily together for years. However, when a new girl arrives, Tyler can't seem to focus on anything else. This Kate seems to understand him in a way you never could and you start to wonder if loving someone really means letting them go... Word Count: 4386 TW: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Breakup, Makeup, Tears Notes: Huge thanks to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for beta reading this for me and to the anon who made this request 💕 SPOILERS FOR TWISTERS

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

You noticed the change in him the moment they met.

Usually, you weren’t involved in Tyler’s chases but for some reason that day, you decided to meet the crew at a diner for lunch between storms. You had to fight your way through the crowd of adoring fans hovering around his truck before being able to greet him with a big kiss and warm embrace. As always, he kissed you back before slinging his arm over your shoulder. But as the two of you began walking towards the diner door, chatting about what he had gotten up to that morning, he trailed off, his attention now fully on the crew huddled around the Strom Par trucks.

You didn’t know any of those guys by name but had been around enough to recognize their faces—all but one. There was a new girl with them who was studying a tablet and glancing up at the darkening sky. She was pretty, but you didn’t see anything particularly notable about her. You turned to ask Tyler who she was, but before you could, he strolled off in that direction without a word leaving you standing with your hand on the door to the diner unsure what you were supposed to do.

Part of you thought you should go inside and order both of you lunch so it would be waiting when he came back, but there was something in Tyler’s posture as he stood next to this girl that was setting off alarm bells in your head. They were across the parking lot with their backs mostly to you so you couldn’t make out anything they were saying, but after knowing Tyler for six years and dating him for four, you had gotten rather good at reading his body language. And right now, the pronounced jut of his hips, the upturned tilt of his head, and that certain smile you could just get a glimpse of when he turned the right way all told you the same thing. He liked this girl—a lot.

You watched them for another moment or two until Lily, Dani, and Boone came barrelling out of the diner, almost knocking you over. By the time you all untangled yourselves and you looked back over to where Tyler and the girl had been standing, she was walking back towards the Storm Par team. But Tyler…Tyler’s eyes were locked on her. He nodded slightly as an impressed grin spread across half of his face. He stared after her for another beat before the grin dropped and he straightened, his eyes scanning the lot until he saw you standing by the diner, looking back at him. Quickly slipping his sunglasses back on his face, he jogged to your side.

Just before he reached you, he shot one quick look over his shoulder at the Storm Par team. Whatever the girl had said to them had caused them to pack up all their equipment and climb into their vehicles. Tyler jerked his head at Lily, Dani, and Boone who were still standing near you, then he placed his hands on your shoulders.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to do lunch, but we gotta go. Storm’s moving in faster than we thought and it looks like it's gonna be a good one.” He rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “Just meet you back at the motel tonight? Dex was gonna grill up some steaks for everyone.”

“Yeah,” you said, not looking at his face. “Sounds like a plan.”

“Hey.” He used his finger to tilt your chin up to look at him. “Everything alright?”

You sighed, staring into his sunglasses. “Yes, Tyler. Just go before you miss your window. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay…tonight.” He squeezed your arms one last time and pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head before heading to where his crew was already packing up.

When he was about halfway across the parking lot, the group of Storm Par vehicles pulled out in front of him. As the truck the girl was in passed by, you saw that same smile return to his face and you turned away, a queasy feeling building in your stomach.

That night at the motel, all Tyler could talk about was this girl—Kate—and how she had perfectly predicted the storm. Everyone else out there had assumed the system forming to the east was the one to chase, yet Tyler and Kate had been the only ones to correctly identify that the cap wouldn’t break and the one to the west was the better option.

The sick feeling deep in your stomach that had been growing since Tyler began talking about her only got worse when Kate walked by the Wranglers on the way to her room. Tyler introduced the two of you—she was polite but seemed surprised when Tyler referred to you as his girlfriend. You just nodded back before taking a long drag on your beer. Seeing the way Tyler had looked at her was bad enough, but hearing him tease her and listening to him call her by a little nickname all while that spark burned in his eyes was a thousand times worse. And on top of it all, you could see past his bravado—he genuinely respected this girl and thought she was special. It was too much to take and, shortly after she left, you excused yourself and went to your room. When Tyler came up an hour or two later, you pretended to be asleep so you wouldn’t have to talk.

Originally, you had planned on heading back to your shared apartment in the morning, but as uncomfortable as you were feeling about the situation, you didn’t feel like leaving Tyler alone with Kate. You felt terrible even thinking like that because you knew Tyler loved you and would never do anything to hurt you, but you couldn’t forget the way he looked at her. So, you rode out with Dani and Dexter on that day’s chase and jumped in to help when the crew arrived in what was left of Crystal Springs after the storm went through.

While the rest of the crew began handing out food and water to those who had just lost everything, a woman came over to where you, Tyler, and Boone were sorting through some rubble. She was dirty and crying, tears leaving muddy streaks down her face as she explained that they couldn’t find their family dog and, as her kids had already lost so much, was there any way you could help her find him. You were all more than willing to help and immediately began looking for the little guy.

After a while, you began drifting away from where Tyler and Boone were looking. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the Storm Par trucks pull up but you tried to ignore them. Scott and Javi were probably just here to try to talk these poor people into selling what little they had left to that slimeball Riggs for a fraction of what it was worth. How could Tyler seriously be drawn to this new girl if she was helping Storm Par do this to people? It went against everything Tyler stood for. This thought stuck in your head and you began to wonder if maybe you had let your insecurities get the best of you and had blown this whole Kate situation out of proportion.

Suddenly, you heard a small whimper off to your left. Slowly and carefully, you shifted a few pieces of concrete and wood until you saw a tiny pair of eyes staring back at you from the shadows. Bending down, you called out to him, and the cutest little tan-and-white terrier poked his head out with a small bark. After sniffing in your direction for a moment, he slunk forward until he was right in front of you and you slowly reached out. When he didn’t retreat, you placed your hand gently on his head and stroked his fur. He was trembling and wet but otherwise seemed unharmed.

“Hey there, buddy! I'm so glad we found you all safe and sound.” You gathered the small dog into your arms. Rubbing under his chin and giving him a reassuring coo, you turned around and called out, “Ty! Look who I fou—”

The smile faded from your face as you spotted Kate speaking with Tyler and Boone. Even being this far away, even with Tyler getting heated about whatever they were talking about, even as Tyler turned to storm away, you could see that you hadn’t been jumping to conclusions after all. You could practically see the tension crackling in the air between them and it was the final straw. As much as every fiber of your being was screaming at you not to, you knew what you needed to do.

Walking over to where the guys were still searching, you placed the dog into Boone’s arms before grabbing Tyler’s hand and leading him away from everyone else. “We need to talk.”

“Uh oh. Am I in trouble?” he asked, chuckling slightly. But the moment you pulled him behind the rubble of one of the houses and faced him, his smile evaporated. Squeezing your hand tighter, he asked, “Wait. Is something actually wrong?”

Letting go of his hand, you took a few steps away from him as you slowly exhaled. Then you asked, “Tell me one thing about what I do at my job. Not my title, but what I do.”

Tyler stared at you as if you had just grown another head. “Sweetheart, what is this—”

“Just answer the question.”

He ran his hand through his hair as he pondered the question. “You’re in finance and you work…with money…”

“Doing what with money?”

“....I don’t know.”

“I know you don’t and we’ve always joked about it and I thought it was okay. After all, I don’t really get what you do either—I never have. I mean, I know what you literally do, but how you feel about it or why you get such joy from it?” You shake your head, staring at the ground. “I’ve tried to be as supportive as I could be the last four years and let you go out there without saying a word, despite how dangerous it is, but I still don’t get it…She does.”

“She who?”

“Kate.”

“Wait a minute–” Tyler held up his hands and took a step closer to you but you cut him off.

“Tyler, you’ve been different ever since she showed up. She’s all you talk about and you’ve been going out of your way to impress her or show her how much better you are than Storm Par.”

“You know I get a little competitive especially when it comes to those assholes. They look down on my crew because they don’t have degrees or schooling or whatever and I sometimes get lost in trying to show them we are just as good as they are without all that stuff. So maybe I was going a little overboard trying to show Kate that before Storm Par turned her against us. But you know it’s all just big talk.”

“I know and I’ve tried to tell myself that. But it’s not just what you say to her, it’s how you are whenever she’s around. You stand differently, smile differently. You…you…” You blinked several times as you tried to hold back the tears that were forming in your eyes.

“I what?”

Taking another deep breath, you said, “Ty…the way you look at her is how you used to look at me.”

That shut him up. Whatever argument he was forming in his head was no longer valid and he knew it.

Placing your hand over his heart, you said as your voice trembled slightly, “Admit it. We’ve been off for a while now. It sort of feels like we’ve just been going through the motions. We used to talk about the future: a house, marriage, a dog, maybe kids. But I can’t even remember the last time either of us mentioned anything like that.” Your eyes dropped to the ground, unable to look into his eyes as you said this next part. “Maybe…maybe we just need to take some time apart. Maybe there’s something better out there for both of us and we’re just holding each other back.”

Tyler placed his hand over where yours still rested on his chest. “There’s no one better than you.”

“Are you sure you still feel that way?” Tyler started to respond but you added, “Even after meeting Kate?”

He hesitated and that was all you needed to hear.

Cupping his cheek with your free hand, you found the strength to look up at him as you said, “I love you. But I don’t understand you—not the way she does. And I honestly don’t think I ever will. So you need to explore this and see if there’s something there that I couldn’t give you.” You laughed, tears streaming down your cheeks. “And who knows? Maybe while you and Kate are getting your happily ever after, I’ll meet someone who understands what I do at work with money.”

Tyler squeezed his eyes shut, leaning into your touch as he whispered, “I don’t want you to go.”

“And I don’t want to go. But I have to. For both of us.” Pulling his face down towards yours, you lightly kissed his lips. Then, after pulling back, you rested your forehead against his. “Please…really give this a try. All I want for you is to be happy. Whether that’s with me, Kate, or someone else. And who knows? Maybe we’ll find our way back to each other one day. But until then, if you feel it…”

Your hands slipped from where they rested on him as you pivoted quickly and rushed away. You wanted him to come after you. To come running up behind you, sweep you into his arms, and say he was chasing what he felt and that this had all been a mistake. But he didn’t.

Finding a police officer climbing into his car, you asked for a lift back to the motel where you had left your car. As you were climbing in, you glanced back at where you had left Tyler. But he wasn’t staring back. Instead, his attention was fully on one of the Storm Par trucks that was pulling out and you just managed to catch a glimpse of the driver’s blonde ponytail.

What was left of your heart shattered.

The next few days were some of the worst of your life. You tried to carry on with your normal schedule and stay busy to keep your mind off of everything, but it was nearly impossible, especially considering you were still living in the apartment you shared with Tyler when it wasn’t storm season. His presence lingered in every inch of the space and you wondered how long you should wait before trying to find a new place to stay. He would still be gone for another month or so but living here knowing he was nothing more than a roommate at this point nearly brought you to tears every time you thought about it.

But even worse were the constant scenarios that played through your head about what he and Kate were doing at any given moment. You had told him to explore things with her and really see if there was a connection there, yet now thinking about him acting on anything made that queasy feeling in your stomach return worse than ever. One time you actually did get sick when you imagined Tyler showing up at the apartment asking you to leave so Kate could move it. You knew he would never be that cruel, but it didn’t stop your brain from asking what if.

Sometimes you wondered if you made a mistake. You had brought up your job and the fact Tyler didn’t know what you did as a reason he didn’t understand you, but that wasn’t the real issue (and to be fair, your job was pretty nuanced and even your parents could never remember exactly what you did). Deep down you had known for a while things were stalling out between the two of you. The love was still there but you had fallen into a rut, just going through the same routines without really putting much thought or effort into anything. Maybe Kate’s arrival was just the wake-up call you needed to face the truth. But maybe instead of pushing Tyler into another woman’s arms, you should have used this realization as fuel to work on getting the two of you back to where you were when you first started dating.

Maybe you just threw away the love of your life because you hadn’t tried putting the work into the relationship…

A few days after leaving Oklahoma, you were cleaning the kitchen after making dinner when you heard a frantic pounding on your door. Someone from work had mentioned possibly dropping off some paperwork later, but this sounded much too urgent a knock to be them.

Walking over to the door, you pressed against it and called, “Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

Your heart froze in your chest. It was still the middle of storm season. You hadn’t prepared yourself to face Tyler until then at least. Could he really be here to ask you to move out after all?

Cracking the door slightly to peer out, you gasped and let it swing open the rest of the way as you saw him leaning heavily on the door frame. His jeans and favorite dark burgundy shirt were filthy and ripped in several places. It looked like he had what was once mud—now dried, cracked, and flaking off—caked into his hair, skin, and clothes. But it was the way he was favoring his left leg, keeping as much weight off of it as possible, that really caught your attention.

“What the hell happened to you? Are you okay?” You grabbed his arm and slung it over your shoulder, helping him hobble into the apartment.

You tried to get him to sit on the couch, but he waved you off, opting to lean against the kitchen counter instead. Thinking he might want something to drink, you started to walk towards the fridge, however he grabbed your hand and pulled you into his arms. He reeked of sweat, oil, and smoke, and you tried to squirm out of his grasp but he stopped you, running his hand down the side of your face.

Trying to stay strong and not to melt into his embrace, you whispered, “What are you doing?”

But he just pulled you closer, his green eyes shining with something you recognized but hadn’t seen in a long time. “It’s you. It was always you and will always be you. And I should have known that from the beginning.”

Sighing, you pushed against his chest again. “Ty, I said we needed to take a step back and explore other relationships.”

“I did.”

Even though that was what you were telling him to do, it stung to hear but you pushed past it. “It’s been less than a week. That doesn’t count.”

“It could have been a year and it wouldn’t make a difference. Yeah, Kate and I share something because of our connections with the storms, and I had never met someone else who looks at them like I do so I was intrigued by her. But she’s not what I want and I’m sorry if I made you think she was. But I know now without a doubt what I want and that’s you.”

The certainty in his voice made you weak in the knees but you couldn’t understand what could have changed so completely in such a short amount of time. Studying his face, you asked, “What happened out there?”

“I just walked away from an EF5, even though I shouldn’t have. We were trying to help get people somewhere safe to hide before the storm hit when my leg got pinned under some debris—” you gasped “—I’m fine, I promise. Kate and Javi got me out and it’s just a little sore now. But then Kate took my truck and went out into the storm alone leaving Javi and me to help the rest of the crew keep everyone safe. The only place we could go was the movie theater and it wasn’t made to be a shelter. It started to come apart in minutes and people were getting sucked out. Then Lily lost her grip—”

“No! Tyler–”

“I was able to grab her but it was like playing tug of war with Mother Nature. I was holding onto her with both hands and the only thing keeping both of us from flying away was the toe of my boot wrapped around the leg of one of the theater seats. That moment was the first time in a really long time that I thought this might be it. That I wasn’t making it out of this storm alive. But just when it seemed like I couldn’t hold on any longer, I thought about you—and only you. I thought about the way you smile and boop my nose with whipped cream every single time we split a piece of pie. I thought about your absolutely horrible attempt at singing while you take a shower. I thought about that little sound you make when you’re sleeping curled against me. But most of all, I thought about the way we left things and I refused to let that be the last conversation we ever had. So, I held on until Kate was able to break up the storm.”

You had been falling in love with Tyler all over again at his confession, but that last sentence threw you for a loop. “Wait, she did what?”

He shook his head. “It’s a long story. I’ll explain later. But the point is, I came straight here as soon as I made sure everyone was okay because I had to fix things between us. And because I needed to do what I should have done a long time ago.”

Letting you go, Tyler reached into his pocket as—wincing—he lowered himself onto his injured leg. Your eyes grew wide as you realized what he was about to do. However, before he could pull his hand out of his pocket, you dropped down beside him, placing your hands on his to stop him.

“Ty, are you sure?” you asked, voice trembling. “I don’t want you to do this because you almost died or you think you have to—”

Tyler smiled, tears forming at the corners of his eyes. “No. Baby, I’ve realized that when you love something, you’ll spend your whole life trying to understand it. So while we might not understand everything about each other right now, I’d like to spend the rest of my life by your side trying to figure it out. Because I love you more than anything else in the world and would be honored if you’d let me spend every day proving that to you—” he moved your hands aside and pulled out a box from his pocket “—as my wife.”

He popped open the lid and you gasped. The diamond ring inside was as gorgeous as it was huge. You had seen smaller rings on A-list celebrities and knew there was no way in hell either you or Tyler could afford something like this, even if you combined your savings.

Mouth still gaping, you choked out, “Where the hell did you get that?”

Tyler smiled. “There was a jewelry shop down the street from the theater that was still standing. When I went by, the owner was out front inspecting the damage. Turns out, I had helped his wife and kids get to safety so he opened up the store and gave me a pretty good deal on it.”

“Still, you didn’t need to do this.” You reached up and brushed his hair off his face where it had been plastered down by sweat and dirt. “You know all I’ve ever wanted was you. You could have given me a rubber band and I still would have been the happiest girl in the world.”

“Should I take it back then?” He started to close the ring box, but you stopped him.

“Well, don’t be so hasty! I mean, since you already have it…”

“Does this mean you’re saying yes?” There was just the slightest edge of fear in his voice as if he honestly thought you might have a different answer.

But you nodded, holding out your hand. “Yes. As long as you are absolutely sure this is what you want, then of course I’m saying yes.”

Tyler’s smile doubled in size as he took the ring out of the box and slid it on your finger. Even noting how big it was, the weight of it momentarily surprised you. The diamonds sparkled and shined in the lights of the kitchen and you wondered if you would ever get tired of staring at it.

Once it was securely in place, Tyler wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and pulled you into his lips. The kiss had a fire and desire to it you hadn’t felt in what seemed like years, and you silently vowed to never let your passion for each other smolder again.

As the heat of the kiss began to burn even brighter, you felt Tyler’s fingers fiddling with the buttons of your blouse. With a soft moan, you turned your head, breaking the kiss but leaving your face pressed against his. “Ty, please don’t be offended by this, but do you think before we go any further, we could move this celebration to the shower? You smell really bad.”

He chuckled, his hands still skimming over the front of your blouse. “I’ll go wherever you want me to, as long as we are together.”

You smiled back and placed a quick kiss on his lips. “Forever.”

Then you helped ease him off the floor before leading him into the bathroom, both of your shirts and pants already on the floor before you reached it.

Tag list: @green-socks, @mayhem24-7forever, @blue-aconite, @hederasgarden, @writercole, @ryebecca, @heart-0n-fire, @nerdysuperchick, @ohtobeleah, @slightly-psycho-multifan, @sunlightmurdock, @xoxabs88xox, @superchatnoir07

#fic #twisters #twisters 2024 #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #kate carter #angst #angst with a happy ending #happily ever after #hea #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #hurt & comfort #tears tw

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spiderman2-99 · 5 days ago

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Día De Muertos is supposed to be a celebration. When the dead return home, the day is filled with festivals, family, home-cooked food, and the bright smell of marigolds.

But Miguel O’Hara has no family, is too miserable to leave the apartment, and all the marigolds have gone extinct.

They’ve been extinct since 2095, actually. How hadn’t he known? That should've been something he'd figured out sooner, right? But no, he finds out a week before the day itself while he’s trying to make Gabriella’s ofrenda.

What does his beloved baby girl, who he would’ve given the world a thousand times over, get instead? Paper flowers.

Paper flowers instead of real ones, possessions that represented her instead of properly being hers, a half-done altar that was done in a manic, grief-fueled haze.

It’s paltry. Miguel knows it is. But it’s all he can give, and by God, he hates it. He tried to make it up in home-made pan de muerto and fresh fruit and her favorite dinners, in the carefully arranged papel picado garlands, in finding actual copal to burn… but it’s not enough. It could never be enough.

It’s been a long time since he’d last made an ofrenda, actually. He fell out of the tradition sometime when he was in college, when he was young and unburdened and selfish and so, so stupid, and had convinced himself he had much more important things to do with his time than honor traditions.

Sometimes, he wants to reach out to that little twerp and beat him senseless.

No, he wants to laugh, or scream, or pull his hair out. It’s a sick joke; a cruel jab at his expense, that he only started giving a shit about his own cultural holidays again after Gabi died, when he could no longer share the homemade food with her, help her learn about the significance.

It feels so wrong, being unable to share this with his daughter. Having the altar be dedicated to her, instead of her helping him set it up; teaching her how to make the banners and arrange flowers and bake bread, entertaining whatever thousands of questions she’d have about the holiday and her great-great-whoever’s they’d be celebrating. What would she have thought of the chicken and chile rellenos? Of the Calaveritas? The toys he left out?

Hijo de puta. A parent isn’t supposed to outlive their child.

It’s a pathetic altar too, as far as he’s concerned. Miguel hadn't done this in so long that he'd nearly forgotten how to; having to go on the internet just to remember the guidelines. Even then, there were so many conflicting answers that it left him confused and flying blind the whole damn time.

Did he do enough as a father to honor her? Did the ofrenda do her memory justice? Did he do anything right? Is there enough salt to purify her body? Enough water and food to provide for her long journey? Was the copal actually supposed to be incense, or did it have a different meaning? Are the purple candles placed correctly? Would tissue paper marigolds, devoid of scent and life, be enough guide her safely back home?

These worries swarm like vultures to a carcass, picking at and tormenting him to the point where he can barely stand to look at the stupid, thrown-together thing any longer. He should know how to do this— today is much more than just a holiday; Día de Muerto and all of its rich traditions should be a part of who he is, steeped in his identity, his culture. It should be more familiar than breathing.

But now it just makes him ache, seeing how he couldn’t even properly commemorate his own little girl.

In a brief moment of clarity, Miguel realizes he really just should’ve just taken more time to research and plan it out better. If only it weren’t for the constant high-stakes responsibilities, the needs of far too many all on his shoulders, the people, people, people.

Not like he didn’t try; Halloween and all day yesterday, Miguel had been rushing uncharacteristically through work, trying to get caught up enough to take time off. But of course, God had it out for him and practically half the damn Society wanted to barge into his office to badger him about something. He ended up with a shock-ton of random gifts and baked goods on his desk that he’d unceremoniously pawned off to Peter B. (save for a bottle of Don Julio, but the other man didn’t need to know that), enough sanguine well-wishes to last him a lifetime, and high blood pressure.

And the time and effort he scraped up still wasn’t enough to get it done right. It could never be good enough. He could never be good enough.

Miguel can’t stop second-guessing himself, can’t stop that all too familiar spiral of guilt and self-loathing that rots away at his insides like necrosis. He’s a scientist and an engineer, for shocksake— logic and reason should override his emotions, should stop them from clouding him at all. But all he can do is sit there, staring at the sorry excuse for an ofrenda with a lump in his throat and a throbbing headache that won’t go away.

Today couldn’t have gone any worse.

His joints pop viciously as he gets up from the floor just to prove him wrong. Cristo en el cielo.

The only bright side to this whole thing is that… well, no one is here. No one to see his embarrassment, or his failure; no one to question him, or ask him how he’s feeling, or try to give a hug, or any more goddamn food. It’s just him and his ever-spiraling thoughts and the grief that threatens to consume him whole.

Carefully, with a trembling hand, he lights the incense, then the candles, the golden glow dancing around his otherwise dark apartment. It… almost makes it look better. Less like a broken down man’s sorry attempt at repentance and more like a proper ofrenda.

Almost.

Día De Muertos is supposed to be a celebration, filled with festivals, family, home-cooked food, and the bright smell of marigolds.

But Miguel O’Hara has no family, is too miserable to leave the apartment, and all the marigolds have gone extinct.

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avocado62524 · 2 months ago

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#windscream #starblade #humanformers #maccadam #i designed them the way i would want to get with both so dont @ me #dude i cant find my old transformers sketchbook #im so mad because i already had human windscream designs #let me be lazy pleaaaaaaaaaaase #whatever its ok its ok i have 3 designs for human starscream and 1 for human windblade.#hes high maintenance #starscream #windblade #wait so now that ive drawn this can i get another fellow shipper to hold my hand when i reread TAAO for this year? its time for annual read #i cry about it for days. i need emotional support. or at least someone else to cry with me #i like to specifically read until TAAO and then stop #and then i rot in bed daydreaming about post-canon fix-its. where i dont fix shit. theyre both in extreme pain #but right now yknow what i want? i want ss locked up in wbs house. bro has good mental health. gains a little happy weight #and i want wb re-elected again and again and cybertron in the golden again. arts and culture thriving. many institutes for higher education #the titans are chilling and not ruining wbs life. much luck and prosperity to them both #hitting my head against a wall. why cant i have this #ok brb time to read hurt/comfort fanfic of wbss

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aventurineswife · 9 days ago

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Yes YES YES

The mmorning after, aventurine just looking at reader who is still sleeping, admiring them (and the love bites he left behind) and wondering how he got so lucky to have someone like them in his life.

Bonus points if reader when they wake up, they reach out to hold his face or ruffle his hair and sleeply call him by his real name

“You are the Reason”

Summary: In a tender morning scene, Aventurine, lies in bed with his partner, watching them sleep. As dawn light filters through the curtains, he reflects on the intimate moments they've shared and the vulnerability he feels in their presence. Their quiet exchange reveals the depth of their connection with Aventurine struggling between his chaotic life as a gambler and the desire for peace and permanence he finds in love.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Vulnerability, Redemption, Emotional Connection, You make him want to keep living 🫶, Healing, Morning Scene, Intimate.

Warnings: Mild Intimacy, Brief mention of character trauma.

A/N: HEHE!! 🤭 THIS WAS SO CUTEEE AND HONESTLY I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN!!

Inspired by and this

The dawn was soft and pale, casting delicate rays that slowly seeped through the heavy curtains. It painted the room in a golden haze, warming the shadows and quietly coaxing the world awake. Yet in the bed, wrapped in sheets and tangled with you, Aventurine had no desire to leave the comfort of your embrace. He lay beside you, propped up on one elbow, quietly admiring the sight of you at rest.

His fingers absentmindedly traced along your shoulder, his touch featherlight as he brushed over the faint love bites dotting your skin. Each mark was a reminder of the intensity they had shared, moments that lingered like a secret between you both, whispers only the two of you would understand. His gaze softened, drinking in every inch of you, from the way your hair spilled across the pillow to the peaceful rise and fall of your chest as you breathed.

For Aventurine, life had always been a gamble, a calculated series of moves and maneuvers. He had won and lost fortunes, outwitted powerful enemies, and survived odds that no one else would dare to wager on. But none of that prepared him for the risk of letting someone into his life like this—of allowing himself to be vulnerable and open. And yet, with you, it felt effortless.

He’d never thought he’d be someone who’d lie in bed simply to watch another person sleep. The irony of it was almost amusing. This was supposed to be his time for scheming, his time for planning the next strategic move. But in your presence, those plans faded into the background, dwarfed by the warmth that filled him as he gazed at you. You brought out something in him he didn’t quite recognize—a part that longed for a sense of peace and permanence in an otherwise chaotic world.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the subtle shift in your breathing as you began to stir. You turned toward him, eyes slowly blinking open, still heavy with sleep. He couldn’t help but smile as you looked up at him, an endearing mix of confusion and affection in your drowsy gaze. Without a word, you reached up, brushing your fingers gently against his cheek, as if to make sure he was really there.

“Kakavasha…” you murmured, barely above a whisper, using the name he rarely allowed anyone to utter. Hearing his true name, the one he kept hidden beneath the layers of his public persona, stirred something deep within him. For a man who wore masks and dealt in secrets, hearing his name on your lips felt like a balm, a reminder of who he was beneath it all.

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes briefly, savoring the warmth of your hand against his face. Your fingers slipped into his hair, toying with the strands in a slow, lazy motion. It was such a simple gesture, yet it made his heart beat faster, filling him with a tenderness he hadn’t thought himself capable of feeling.

“Good morning.” you mumbled, your smile sleepy and soft as you brushed your thumb across his cheekbone.

“Good morning, love.” he replied, his voice low, filled with a gentleness he saved only for you. Aventurine’s hand covered yours, holding it against his cheek, reluctant to let go of this connection. He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, lingering just long enough to feel your skin warm beneath his lips.

You let out a contented sigh, snuggling closer to him, your head resting against his chest. “How did I get so lucky to have you?” he mused aloud, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if the question was meant only for himself.

You opened your eyes, looking up at him with a smile that held a hint of mischief, despite the drowsiness still clouding your gaze. “Maybe the universe decided you deserved a little happiness too.” you murmured, your voice as soft as a secret.

Aventurine chuckled, the sound deep and comforting as he tightened his hold on you, drawing you closer still. He brushed his lips against your hair, inhaling the familiar scent that was unmistakably yours. “If that’s the case,” he said, his tone almost reverent, “then I must be the luckiest man alive.”

You laughed softly, the sound filling the quiet room like a melody, and he felt his heart swell at the sound. In this moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in your shared sanctuary, wrapped in warmth and each other’s presence.

As he held you, Aventurine couldn’t help but let his thoughts drift back to all the hardships he’d endured—the losses, the betrayals, the near-misses with death. He had always believed that his life would be one long, lonely road filled with battles and clever games, where the only reward was survival itself. But here, with you in his arms, he dared to hope for more. He dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, he’d found something worth more than any gamble he’d ever taken.

“Stay with me.” he whispered, more to himself than to you, but you heard it. You reached up, placing your hand over his heart, feeling its steady beat beneath your fingers.

“Always.” you murmured, your voice a sleepy promise that felt like a vow. Your eyes began to drift shut again, and you nuzzled closer, seeking his warmth. As you nestled against him, your breathing slowly evened out, slipping back into sleep with a serene smile on your lips.

Aventurine stayed like that, watching over you, content to hold you in his arms as the morning light gradually grew brighter. The world outside was waiting, filled with challenges, schemes, and risks he would inevitably have to face. But for now, in this quiet moment, he allowed himself to simply be Kakavasha—a man deeply, irrevocably in love, willing to bet everything he had to protect the rare and precious happiness he’d found in you.

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reallyromealone · 8 days ago

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Title: God what have we done?

Chapter: one

Fandom: encanto

Characters: Encanto ensemble

Fic type: fluff, angst, hurt to comfort

Pairings:

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, darkish Bruno, ten foot tall Bruno, Omega male reader, omegaverse, fluff, Bruno needs a hug, so does reader

Notes: I wrote! I wrote something through my depression! Also I had loved ones over most of October!

Summary: Bruno has to face his realities and accept what's before him.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Abuela was always deeply protective of her children, wanting to make sure they were truly loved before they were allowed to get married and when she saw how (name) looked at her little Bruno... It wasn't love... Yet.

But she knew that the Omega who sat at Bruno's door every day and sliding notes under knowing he wasn't going to get an answer was going to love that man more than life itself. (Name) Had a determination and respect for himself and others that shocked the woman, knowing omegas could typically be seen as meek and docile especially this day in age but (name)? He wasn't going to let Bruno run away without answers.

"Sweety, just give up " (name)s mother said softly to the Omega who looked at her with distain "there's so many other mates that are more... Suitable" the elderly woman was about to go defend her son when (name) spoke first "so many people demonize him and give up on him, I refuse to be one of those people" his voice holding so much conviction and confidence "it's not his fault that people can't handle what is to come, it's not his fault he's tired and exhausted from people demanding from him and getting mad because he gives what's asked and it's not fair that this town acts like he is an omen when he's a person with feelings! Actual human feelings that you all seem to disregard and- and I will wait here every day till I die if it means he knows I am not those people!"

Then suddenly he grew calm, a look on his face that made (name)s mom step back "even if he refuses to be with me, I will be in his life... I respect him but I just want answers" and then like nothing happened, (name) returned to waiting at the seers door. Upset and furious, (name)s mom reaches towards him "pardon me, is there a problem?" Abuela finally stepped in, the parents turning and going rigid when seeing Abuela "we are handling our son, how long do you expect him to wait for your son to get his act together?!" Abuela looked them up and down, head tilted slightly as if assessing them for any potential threat and deeming she could probably take em verbally "well (name) is a guest of ours and I don't appreciate it when people disrespect my guests in my own home... Wouldn't you agree?"

"He's ou--"" and as I'll repeat again, my guest now please do find your way out as it's almost time for dinner" Abuela didn't leave room for argument, the Alpha couple leaving with a huff and (name) sat there, fidgeting "thank you..."

"Did you mean that?" She asked genuinely, staring at the other with slight suspicion "I want nothing more than to make him happy, if he wants me gone... I'll go but I will never stop caring for him but till he forces me away, I'll be here waiting for when he's ready to talk" the elderly woman knew that the young man would be great for her son, he needed someone like (name) to whip him into shape "you have my blessing, don't make me regret it" the woman turned around and began walking away "dinner is in one hour, don't be late or Casita will drag you there"

(Name) Smiled brightly at her words and let out a joyful chuckle, a bit wet from tears after the heated argument with his parents, Turning to the door (name) knocked gently "please Bruno... I just want to talk"

He didn't expect an answer, he never got one but he held hope that his words got to the other.

Turns out Casita was rooting for Bruno and (name).

The words echoed through the seers room, his sweet voice hitting the man's ear drums and making him melt.... There were times he was so tempted to go down there and not be a coward.

"Shit..." Bruno looked at his empty packet of cigarettes, annoyed and frustrated... His sisters won't get him cigarettes and his mom definitely wouldn't... God damn it.

Bruno snuck down to his door, closing his eyes before opening the ornate wooden door, the cold brass knob almost burning him with warning as it creaked open.

He knew he should have stayed in his room.

(Name) Was shivering, sleeping tucked away into himself while waiting for a chance to see Bruno and get an explanation the man wasn't sure how to give.

"I'm no good for you..." Bruno whispered while crouching, even doing this action he ftowered over the other...

"Why would you want to be with someone as cursed as me? Huh?" Bruno gently wiped a stray tear from the sleeping omegas face before standing up, planning to sneakndown the steps. "Casita!" The man growled out while the house made the stairs move upwards like an escalator with every step while the rBrunoailings shook angrily "I .! Yo dad's du have to understand!" He grovwled out and tried to outrun the stairs to no avail.

"Bruno?" The Alpha froze at the sound of his omegas voice, turning to see the beauty himself, hair tussled from sleep and clothes messy "(name)..." Bruno felt the air leave his body when he looked into those glassy eyes... Casita deciding to speed things along and force them closer and before Bruno knew it, be was right in front of the poor thing.

"You look tired..." (Name) Whispered, gently touching the others face and tracing his cheekbone, the stubble on his face tickling the others palm "you don't look too great yourself..." Bruno fired back playfully and took in the tired expression of the other fully... This was his fault...

"Why were you hiding, Bruno?" (Name)s voice was barely above a whisper, the Omega oozing distress and worry... "I-" Bruno never felt this fearful, the man usually had some remark or comeback but those eyes... How dare (name) make him feel so vulnerable?

"Let's go for a walk"

Abuela watched from her window, eyes hopeful for the two who stood like strangers... "Come on brunito... Don't let this one slip away" she whispered, watching the Alpha put his poncho over (name) when he noticed (name) shiver.

It was tense, the two walking beside each other "you cold?" Bruno asked (name) who was slightly shivering, the Omega shaking his head "I'm fine" his voice barely above a whisper. Before he could look up a poncho was tossed at him "don't lie" Bruno said with a slight glare "we don't lie" he knew (name) didn't like lying and the Omega huffed "but we can run away at the slightest inconvenience?" The other challenged, always the defiant one (name) was, never giving up on anything or anyone. It's what made Bruno love him so much.

But god he wished this one time he would give up on him.

"You don't understand--"" then help me understand instead of just running like a scared puppy!"

"I'm not a scared puppy!"

"Really because you look like your tails between your legs! Now be the Alpha you are and talk to me!"

"I saw our future and I leave you alone crying!" Bruno snapped and (name) looked shocked and confused "I-I... I looked when I realized you weren't going anywhere, w-we have children together and I leave you all..."

"Were they cute?"

"That's what you focus on here?!" Bruno was stunned and (name) shrugged "you may be a bit of a coward but you're no fool... I'll understand... You only run to help people even if it's misguided... Can I see the fortune?"

"You sure?"

"Absolutely..."

Bruno led (name) back, through Casita and through his room, the two silent but less awkward.

"They're adorable..."

"You can barely see them" Bruno snorted amused "and? They're ours so they're the cutest"

"But you're crying?"

"Your prophesy is up to interpretation right? We don't know the context, what's right around the corner... Please... Let me be in your life" (name) looked hopeful "I want to meet these children we created"

"Y-you still want me?"

"You're a snarky asshole with a terrible smoking habit but you are the love of my life and I'm not letting you go without a fight" (name) said simply, moving closer to the Alpha who couldnt help but laugh "that so? You think you can take me on?"

"Take you on, take you out, it's quite easy"

"Really?"

"Wanna see?"

"Sure" Bruno was curious but didn't expect a kiss to be planted on his face, standing shocked "see! Took you down!"

Come morning, the official courting began, abuela chuckled when she saw her son being dragged around by the Omega who chatted the annoyed alphas ear off "do you ever shut up?" Bruno grumbled and (name) shook his head "nope! And now you're stuck with me! Now come on! You have some stuff to make up for!"

"Like what?"

Yee high

"Like us going in jfor lunch!

Bruno had his hands full, she could tell.

(Name) Was already bringing out the better in him.

It was quite funny, the cute Omega being followed by the scary guard dog that was the yountgest Madrigal "feel this!" (Name) Was looking at textiles and the Alpha raised an eyebrow "why?" Confused at the omegas words, why would he care? "For your courting gift! I need to know you like the texture, I know you are lucky about that stuff!" (Name) Said like it was the most normal, common sense thing but the Alpha was stun locked.

Bruno let the Omega force him the touch fabric after fabric before settling on a soft green wool yarn, mumbling something about knitting but Bruno stewed mentally about courting gifts.

Fuck what does he get someone for courting?!

"Courting gifts?!" A blinding light hit Bruno's eyes while he sat with his sisters and peppas ray of sunlight over her head "our baby brothers growing up!" Juileta fake cried and Bruno stood up, this was a mistake "wait! Bruno don't leave!" The sisters were giggling at the youngest of their trio who scoffed and lit a cigarette "Bruno! You need to stop smoking!" Peppa hissed as a storm cloud grew over her head and Bruno rolled his eyes at her worry "let's get to the topic at hand" juileta said pulling the bickering two back on the focus "what have you given him so far?"

"Nothing?" He was supposed to do that?

"Bruno, you have been in love with this young man for months and he has come by every day showering you with gifts and you got him nothing!" Peppa fumes and Bruno wanted to scream "we were still working things out!" God he knew he shouldn't have gone to these two! "Well what are you going to get him?!" "That's why I'm here Peppa! Because I don't know what shit omegas like!"

"Juileta is an Omega! How could you not know!"

"Well clearly that's not the focus I had! I was busy trying to not get assaulted with makeup and all that shit you did to me!"

Juileta sighed while Augustus walked into the kitchen curiously "what's all this about?" He asked eating some bread his wife made and his broken finger healed "Bruno doesn't know what to get (name)! He doesn't know what omegas like despite mama and Juileta!"

"Maybe don't focus on what omegas like" Augustus said calmly, a gentle smile towards his in law, he was in his shoes when courting his mate and the stress in the prophet's eyes spoke volumes of the fear of fucking up masked behind his rough exterior "what does (name) like? Think of three things he loves more than anything"

Bruno was quiet before abruptly standing up and walking out of the room, the trio watching curiously "is he not going to explain to us?" Peppa huffed before sipping her coffee, grumbling while her sister patted her back "we will see soon"

It was late, (name) hadn't heard from Bruno all day and decided to check on him and was... "THIS IS FUCKING BULLSHIT!" Jumping slightly at the yelling before rushing up to see Bruno surrounded by the hobbies (name) loved... "What's all this?" Bruno snapped his head up, eyes filled with frustration but softened just a bit when he saw him and his sour scent of rage and confusion had a slight hint of raspberry in it.

Love.

"You're not supposed to be here"

"You were hiding and I got worried..."

Bruno mentally cursed himself while (name) stepped closer "are these courting gifts?"

"... Your hobbies are impossible and fucking awful and I don't know how you don't pull out your hair" (name) mentally translated the man's words to "you're incredibly talented and I have no idea how you do this" and smiled "You were trying to make me a blanket?" The Alpha flushed slightly before shrugging "I wanted you to have a proper mating gift..." (Name) Wanted to cry, kneeling down to the hunched over giant of an alpha and cupping his face "you could paint a rock and I would love it... These are things I love doing because I love making things for others... Why don't you do something you are good at doing?"

(Name) Gently kissed the other, his beard tickling his lips and fingers tracing the others cheekbones "but first, I'm starving and I want to eat food with my mate" "were not mates yet" "yet!" (Name) Rand back down to where he abandoned his basket and returned "I made bread!"

Bruno felt his worries and stress wash away at his beloved, the Omega showing the food he made with so much love... Bruno couldn't think of any reason to make (name) cry....

There were things Bruno was passionate about, his secret hobbies...

And (name) was going to learn one of them.

"Is this a collar?"

"Made of our tablet..."

(Name) Let out a choked sob before looking at Bruno who immediately panicked "why are you crying?! Is it bad?!" His worried voice making (name) smile "n-no! I-I love it so much!"

Bruno took a breath "don't fucking scare me like that..." Gently he put it on (name), the omegas scent was so overwhelming and happy and Bruno couldn't help but pull (name) close and smell the pharamones that clung to him every day...

"I love you"

#male reader #x male reader #omegaverse #omega male reader #Omega reader #Encanto x male reader #Encanto x reader #Encanto omegaverse #Bruno x male reader #bruno x reader #ten foot tall bruno #angst #fluff #hurt to comfort #dont get comfortable im writing an emotional punch in the face

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a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all · 3 months ago

Text

Sweeter Than Revenge Part 2

Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: Setting your plan in motion, you flaunt your new "relationship" in Scott's face. However, you didn't think through what happens next as you find yourself in the middle of nowhere alone with Tyler. Word Count: 4401 TW: Family Conflict, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Tears, Brief Mention of Reader's Clothes, Reader's Past/Childhood Explained in Detail, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

Series Masterlist

Later that night at the motel Tyler had given you directions to, you were just finishing applying a fresh coat of lip gloss when you heard the hoard of storm chasers and their groupies pull up outside.

Showtime.

Stepping back to look at yourself in the mirror, you wondered if you might be taking this a bit too far. Your sleeveless top had a deeply plunging neckline, the practically sheer material hugging every curve, while your jeans were cut so short even you felt slightly uncomfortable with how much they revealed from behind. It was far from your usual attire and you had only packed it on a last-minute whim.

This outfit would have you out of your comfort zone on the best of days when you were only hanging out with friends, but tonight you were wearing it to meet up with a guy you didn’t even really know. It was very possible that Tyler was a total perv planning on taking advantage of you the moment you climbed into his truck. Yet even as that thought crossed your mind, you dismissed it. Though you had spent less than an hour with him as the two of you discussed your plan for revenge, you didn’t think he was that kind of guy. In fact, he had only continued to impress you with how respectful and down-to-earth he seemed, contrary to your original assumptions.

But what did you know? Hell, you already tried to figure him out once and were way off the mark. It seemed like the only way to know for certain was to trust your gut and find out for yourself.

You took one final look at yourself, grabbed your purse off the bed, and headed towards the door.

Stepping out of your motel room and peering over the railing to the ground below, you could see the Storm PAR vehicles clustered at the end near the stairs while Tyler’s truck was parked almost directly below you. That meant you would have to walk past the group of Storm PAR guys filing out of their vehicles in order to reach Tyler.

Perfect. You couldn’t have planned that better if you had tried.

Making it to the end of the walkway, you took a deep breath, held your head up high, and arranged your face into what you hoped looked like a confident—slightly flirty—facade, and headed downstairs. You paused for a second at the bottom to straighten your top and run a hand over your hair, but then you strutted forward towards the red Dodge.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw several members of the Storm PAR team stop in their tracks as they noticed you. One nudged the guy next to him and a few pointed in your direction. Only Javi seemed uneasy as he caught sight of you. His eyes quickly darted from you to one of the trucks labeled “Scarecrow” and then back to you before he turned, running his hand through his hair with a big sigh.

Then Scott climbed out of Scarecrow.

At first, he didn’t notice you. He was looking at a tablet with his head down, but as you got closer and the murmuring got louder, he glanced up to see what the commotion was about. As he did a double-take, you watched the gum drop from his mouth and any doubts you had about this plan instantly evaporated. No longer was the smile on your face forced or the swagger in your step manufactured. Holding your head slightly higher, you let this fresh rush of adrenaline and excitement spurn you forward.

As you reached the front of Scarecrow, Scott stepped out in front of you, blocking your way. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“What do you care?” you scoffed, placing one hand on your hip, cocking it slightly. “You told me to leave you and Storm PAR alone so I’m respecting your wishes. But since I had planned on staying for the next two weeks, I found someone else who’s interested in having me around.” You looked over your shoulder at the rest of the Storm PAR team and wiggled your fingers in their direction. “You fellas have a good night. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

You pushed past Scott, not so gently shouldering him in the chest, and continued on your way. The rest of Scott’s team snickered and “ooo”ed behind you but based on how they suddenly stopped, you guessed Scott gave them one of his death glares.

Sashaying the rest of the way to where Tyler was leaning over the side of his truck, rummaging through a toolbox in the bed, you place one hand on his bicep. Giving it a light squeeze, you asked, “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, just let me—” Tyler lifted his head and his eyes grew wide as he saw what you were wearing. But then he blinked a few times and cleared his throat. “Um, just let me finish putting these away and we’ll be all set.”

“Sounds good.” You leaned against his truck, discreetly glancing back at the Storm PAR team. Scott was staring daggers in your direction but you just pretended to examine your nails like you hadn’t noticed.

A moment later, Tyler slammed the toolbox closed and straightened up. “Done.” Grabbing his hat and pulling it low over his brow, he stepped back to have a better look at you. Letting out a low whistle, he said, “Damn, sweetheart. If I had known you would come down looking like that, I’d have dressed up for the occasion.” He wrapped his arm around your waist, tugging you flush against his side. “You look gorgeous.”

His voice was a little louder than necessary and you know it’s all for your brother’s benefit. Yet, between his words and the feeling of his firm chest beneath his flannel shirt, you couldn’t stop the heat from rushing to your face. A small part of you secretly hoped it wasn’t all for show and he actually meant it.

You flashed him your most flirtatious smile and cooed loudly, “Thank you. But you don’t need to change a thing. You look amazing.”

And it was true.

Not every man pulled off the cowboy look without seeming like he was trying too hard or was going to a costume party. But Tyler must have been born in boots and a cowboy hat because you couldn’t imagine him any other way. His jeans were comfortably worn and seemed molded to his frame from constant use. His flannel long-sleeved button-down was tucked into his jeans, displaying the enormous belt buckle with “Tornado Wrangler” engraved on it. Topped off with his white cowboy hat and dark leather boots, he looked like he had just stepped off the cover of a Western romance novel.

The heat in your face grew stronger.

Tyler squeezed you closer as he asked, “You ready to go?” You nodded so he led you over and opened the passenger door. Holding out his hand, he helped you climb in before slamming the door shut. Watching out the window as he turned around, you noticed all the Storm PAR guys staring at him. Tyler must have noticed too because he touched the brim of his hat and nodded in their direction. “Fellas…..Scott.”

Then he walked to the driver’s side and climbed in. The truck rumbled to life, the vibrations of the powerful engine reverberating throughout your body. Tyler pulled out of the parking lot and onto the dark, empty highway before reaching up and turning on the radio. Low country music filled the quiet cab and he began to hum along, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. You weren’t sure where he was headed or if he even had a destination in mind.

Now that you had properly rubbed your new companion in Scott’s face, you realized you hadn’t thought about what happened next. You were kind of in the middle of nowhere with just a few scattered diners and gas stations within a reasonable distance, and it occurred to you that you had no idea if Tyler already had plans tonight before you barged into his life.

Shifting slightly in your seat, you spoke up. “Um, thanks again for doing this. If you wanna just drop me off at the nearest restaurant and come pick me up later, that’s fine. And take as long as you want. I need to be gone long enough for Scotty to really sit and stew in it.”

Tyler stopped humming to glance over at you for a second and then looked back at the road. “Did you really think I’d just dump you somewhere and take off?”

You blinked. That was exactly what you thought he might do. “Oh…I mean, you’re already doing me this huge favor. I don’t need to take up more of your time than necessary.”

“Sweetheart, I told you, you are doing me a favor by letting me mess with your brother. All those Storm PAR snobs are a pain in my ass, but deep down they seem like alright guys…. except for your brother. He’s the worst kind of hypocrite, and if all I have to do to rile him up is take a beautiful woman out to dinner, my life is going pretty good.”

You turned and looked out the window so Tyler couldn’t see the effect his words had on you. You still couldn’t tell if he actually meant any of the nice things he said about you, if it was all part of the ruse, or if he was the kind of guy who said those things to everyone, But whatever the reason, it was nice to hear.

Once you had composed yourself, you sat up a little straighter, turned back to him, and said, “Okay, but I’m buying dinner. Wherever you want, wherever you want. It’s the least I can do for you helping me out.”

Tyler smiled, his bright teeth shining in the darkness. “Alright, sweetheart. We’ve got a deal. I’ll take you to my favorite spot.”

Thirty minutes later you were sitting next to Tyler on the back of his truck, both of you holding burgers and iced teas as your legs dangled over the end of the tailgate. When he had first stopped for takeout before driving out into a random empty field, you had your doubts. However, you had promised to let him pick so you sat quietly as he stashed his cowboy hat on the dashboard before jumping out of the truck and jogging around to open your door. And as he had led you around to the back of the truck and your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you understood why he had brought the two of you here.

Taking another bite of your burger, you looked up at the clear sky, still in awe of the sheer number of stars that danced and sparkled above you. Growing up where you had, you always thought the night sky was black or maybe dark blue, but seeing it now in the middle of nowhere, far away from any man-made light, you realized that it was in fact a swirling mix of blacks, blues, purples, greens, and yellows surrounding millions of brilliant stars. It was stunning to see.

“So,” you asked around your mouthful of burger, “this is your favorite spot, huh? I can see the appeal.”

Tyler smiled, leaning against the side of the truck bed. “Well, it doesn’t have to be this spot specifically, but yeah. There’s something about the night sky a few hours after a storm has gone through that just can’t be beat.”

“Wait, a storm went through here today?” You looked around. It was hard to tell now in the dark, but thinking back to before Tyler had turned the truck headlights off, you did remember noticing a jagged path off to your right where the grass had been torn up. However, you hadn’t thought much about it at the time.

“Yep. We were out here right before heading to the diner where you found me. It was a pretty big one too. We got some great footage.”

“Guess I could look it up on YouTube, huh, Mr. Tornado Wrangler,” you teased, grabbing a fry from the bag next to you and tossing it at him, which he dove for and somehow caught in his mouth.

Chewing it, he grinned, “I didn’t know you knew about that.”

You shrugged. “I’ve watched a few videos. Scotty wouldn’t stop bitching about you guys and how unprofessional you were so I had to see for myself. Personally, I like your content. It’s fun.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear it. Wouldn’t want to find out I was going out with someone who hates what I do. Guess I owe your brother a thanks for introducing you to us…and indirectly to me.”

Just like when he had complimented your appearance, you felt a warm glow inside when he said you were going out (even though you knew that’s not what he meant…or at least, you didn’t think that’s what he meant).

Quick to change the subject, you asked something that had been on your mind for a while. “Speaking of my brother, you said earlier that Scott was the worst kind of hypocrite…what did you mean by that?”

Hesitating, he sighed, “I don’t really know your brother—not personally—so I’m not sure how much I should say…”

You laughed. “If you’re afraid of saying something about him that might offend me, don’t. I know Scotty and I’m sure whatever it is, it's warranted.”

“Well, when you put it like that...” Tyler set his drink on the tailgate next to his leg. “I don’t know how much you know about Storm PAR but they aren’t the humanitarian group of scientists trying to help the world that they try to make themselves seem like. I haven’t figured out all the details yet but I know they’re doing some backdoor business with some not-so-great people. Yet, meanwhile, your brother looks down his nose at us Wranglers, calling us sell-outs and fame-seekers. And yeah, I do use my platform to make money but we put as much of it as we can back into these communities affected by the storms. We try to do what we can to help—he can’t say the same.”

You considered what Tyler said for a moment before nodding. “Yeah…somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Scotty’s always kind of seen the world in 1s and 0s, as an equation only he can solve. But he doesn’t really care what happens with that solution or how it might affect the people involved once he’s found it. As long as he gets the credit and compensation, he’s happy. So if the only way Storm PAR has been able to get funding is by doing something shady, I don’t doubt for a second he would do it.”

“Damn. He seems worse than I thought.” Tyler looked out into the darkness, the two of you sitting in silence for a moment. Then he asked, “If your brother’s so bad, why did you come all this way to see him?”

“He’s still my brother and I love him.” Under your breath, you added, “Even if he does make it hard to like him most of the time.”

“I wouldn’t know what that’s like—never had any brothers or sisters—and the family I do have has always been really close and supportive. But it seems to me you shouldn’t have to love someone just because you’re related. Just like you don’t have to be related to love someone like family. ”

“I know, but…it’s complicated—or maybe it’s not, I don’t know.” You pulled your knees up into your chest and rested your chin on them, sighing as you wished you had never brought Scott up in the first place.

“You wanna tell me about it?”

“What?” You tilted your head sharply to look at Tyler, your brow furrowed. “You really want to hear me moan about my childhood and how it fucked up my relationship with my brother?”

Tyler shrugged. “I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t wanna, but I have been a little curious. Like, why is he treating you like shit and why are you still trying to get his attention despite that?”

“I’m not trying to…” The words felt so hollow in your mouth you trailed off instead of continuing to deny what he said.

“Tonight—us being out here together—I can see it’s not only about revenge. Maybe you don’t even realize it, but I saw the way you looked at him in the parking lot while you were waiting for me.” Tyler poked you gently with the toe of his boot. “You’re still holding out hope he’ll change his mind and ask you to join him and his team. Why?”

“You really want to know?” He nodded, staring at you patiently. Popping a french fry into your mouth, you contemplated where to start your story. Then, with a sigh, you began, “Of course, I don’t remember any of this, but I’ve heard the story enough times: When my mom was pregnant with me, there were some complications and I was born a few months early. I had to stay in the ICU for a long time and, for a while, they weren’t sure if I was going to make it. Obviously—” You held your hand in front of yourself as if to say “ta-da”. Dropping it with a thump onto the bed of the truck, you continued. “My entire life my parents referred to me as ‘their little miracle’ or ‘their angel on Earth’ because they had been so sure they were going to lose me but I didn’t realize until I left home how much my almost dying actually fucked up their relationship with both me and Scotty.”

“What do you mean?”

“In their eyes, I was this precious little gift that was almost taken from them, but at the same time, there was Scotty. Their other kid. Nothing had happened to change how they saw him. I mean, don’t get me wrong, we have great parents who love us both deeply but they treated us very differently.”

“How so?” Tyler asked, tilting his head slightly.

You shifted on the hard metal. It felt a little strange spilling your guts to this random guy you had only met earlier that day, but what felt even more bizarre was how invested and engaged he seemed in what you were saying. He stared at you as if you had his complete attention, his expression curious yet encouraging, silently urging you to continue.

Clearing your throat, you said, “Scotty was expected to get perfect grades and place first on the track team and help around the house and have an after-school job on top of all of his advanced classes and pay for all his own things. I, on the other hand, was given a car for my fifteenth birthday—about a week after I was nearly expelled from school for multiple counts of cheating and truancy. I couldn’t even have a learner’s permit at that time! My parents gave me literally anything I asked for and let me do whatever I wanted no matter how much I screwed up all while riding Scotty’s ass to ensure he was perfect. In their eyes, he could do no right and I could do no wrong…and I did a lot of wrong.”

“But how your parents treated either of you wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t change that.”

You gave a half-hearted shrug. “Maybe. But I didn’t have to take full advantage of it either. Once I realized I could do whatever I wanted without consequences, I ran wild with it. I partied, went on extravagant trips with my friends that my parents paid for, ignored my curfew, brought boys home with me to spend the night right down the hall from my parents, almost flunked out of school. I know it must sound so stupid but while it was happening…”

Shaking your head, you stared down at your hands, tears beginning to blur your vision. “I was so absorbed in my life, I didn’t see how differently Scott was being treated or what it was doing to him. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Scotty is still Scotty, even back then. He looks out for himself before anyone else and the only emotions he really knows how to convey are pissed off or sarcastic. Yet I can’t help but wonder if he’s only like that because of how unfair things were.”

You paused for a moment to wipe your eyes and collect yourself, then cleared your throat before continuing. “It wasn’t until I moved away to college and got some distance from my parents that I looked back and realized how messed up it all was. And I changed. I stopped asking them for anything, I got a job and worked my ass off to pay for school, I began aceing all of my classes…but I still haven’t been able to make it up to Scotty. I was hoping this trip would be that chance. That I could finally show him I’ve grown and changed. That I understand why he may be hurt and try to heal those wounds. But he wouldn’t even hear me out.”

You scoffed bitterly, burying your face in your hand. “So to show him how much I’ve matured, I came up with this childish plan to throw you in his face. Once again, I thought I could just get what I wanted without thinking about how it might affect my brother or what he would want.” Letting out a deep sigh, you collapsed back into the bed of the truck, staring at the stars dancing high above you. “I guess deep down I’m still that spoiled, self-centered brat I’ve always been.”

The truck jostled beneath you and, a second later, Tyler was lying down too, his face directly across from yours. Without breaking eye contact, he reached out and took your hand. “I might have only just met you, but the girl I’ve seen isn’t anything like the one you described growing up. And if that was how you used to be, you should be proud of how much work you’ve done to become this new version of yourself. Change is one of the hardest things a person can do. It's not an overnight process and we all backslide from time to time. So, yeah, maybe us going out just because you knew it would infuriate your brother isn’t the most mature thing you could have done—” you snorted and Tyler smiled before reaching over to brush a tear off your cheek, his fingers making your skin tingle as they swept across it “—but Scott deserves some blame in this too. Maybe it wasn’t fair your parents treated you both differently, but that doesn’t give him the right to behave the way he did today. He’s a grown-ass adult and should have acted like it instead of throwing a hissy fit when he saw you. So you need to stop blaming yourself for his actions.”

“Why are you being so kind to me?” you muttered, a few more tears slipping down your face. “You don’t even know me.”

“I think I’m beginning to.”

“And?” You tried to chuckle but it came out sounding more like a sniffle. There was no telling what Tyler thought when he looked at you right now—face stained with tears, nose running, eyes bloodshot and watery. You were so embarrassed you had let yourself devolve into such a complete mess in front of him and you were sure he was regretting ever meeting you. “You like what you see?”

Surprisingly, instead of retreating, his hands reached out and cupped your face, his fingers stroking soft circles across your cheeks as he wiped more tears away. “More and more by the minute.”

That broke you.

Whatever composure you had been managing to cling to shattered, and you fell apart. It wasn’t just his words that did it, it was the complete sincerity in his voice that you felt down to your soul. He wasn’t just trying to comfort you or make things better. He had listened intently to every word you said, heard about the side of yourself you tried so hard to forget, and still saw something he liked. Something he said you should be proud of.

Until that moment, you hadn’t realized how much you had needed to hear those words. Your parents never saw themselves as treating you and Scott differently so they couldn’t understand why you wanted to become independent of them or see all the progress you had made while making that happen. And Scott was never around so he hadn’t seen how hard you had worked either. Maybe that was what this trip was really about after all. Maybe, on some level, you had needed Scott to tell you he was proud of who you had become. But he hadn’t even tried to see it. Yet Tyler—this man you had met only hours earlier—had given you all the time and attention you needed to show him how far you had come and he was proud of it.

For a moment, you cried, laying alone on your side of the truck bed under the Oklahoma night sky. But then, you heard Tyler whisper, “Come here, sweetheart” and felt him gently pulling you towards him.

Once he had closed the distance between you, he positioned you so your head was resting on his shoulder, one of his arms nestled underneath you while the other held your hand, his thumb circling the back of your hand just as it had your cheek seconds before. He smelled earthy yet clean, almost like that brief moment just before a rainstorm. It was so perfectly him, that you couldn’t help but smile through your tears.

As you settled against him, you felt his lips ghost briefly against your temple before he rested his chin on the top of your head. And, laying here in this stranger’s arms, the sound of the wind drifting over the plain blending with the beat of his heart against your ear, you had never felt more safe or more seen in your life.

Part 3 coming 8/26!

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