You Ever Look At Some Art Your Mutual Made And You Just Sit There In Stunned Silence And Awe That One

Bruh let me show you all my pictures from AEW

Nourished by Devotion — Grizzy x Reader

f!reader, pregnancy, caring boyfriend, request🦋

It was late afternoon, and the house was filled with the soft hum of the air conditioner. You were perched on the couch, eight months pregnant and feeling every bit of it. Your feet ached, your back was sore, and your mood hovered somewhere between irritated and teary. The baby, bless their squirmy little self, kept nudging your ribs like a persistent drummer. And to top it off, you were hungry—hungry in a way that made no sense. One minute you wanted pickles, the next minute pancakes, then maybe both together. You knew it was hormones and cravings talking, but that didn’t make them any easier to ignore. In the kitchen, Grizzy was a whirlwind of activity, rummaging through cabinets and the fridge. He wore sweatpants and a loose shirt, moving with a determined kind of tenderness. Ever since you’d hit the later stages of pregnancy, he’d made it his personal mission to keep you and the baby satisfied—food, comfort, massages, and all the love you could stand. It wasn’t just caretaking; it was worship. He loved every curve of your changing body, every new complaint and craving was met with compassion and a near-heroic eagerness. “Alright,” he called out, voice warm and steady, “we’ve got leftover fried rice or I can whip up some pancakes. You said pancakes earlier, right?”

You sighed dramatically, throwing your head back against the cushion. “I said I wanted pancakes and pickles,” you grumbled, though a small smile tugged at your lips at how ridiculous it sounded. “I know it’s weird.” Grizzy popped his head around the corner, grinning. “Babe, it’s not weird. It’s pregnancy cravings. I’ve got your back. Pickled pancakes—” He made a playful face. “Okay, maybe I’ll just give you both separately.” You snorted, feeling a touch better just from his easy acceptance. “Yeah, maybe not together,” you conceded, “but I do want both.” He disappeared again, and soon the smell of something warm and sweet drifted into the living room. You closed your eyes, hand resting on your belly, feeling the baby shift. A few minutes later, Grizzy returned with a plate of fluffy pancakes drizzled with syrup and a small bowl of pickles on the side. He placed them on the coffee table and then knelt beside you, reaching for your feet to rub gentle circles into your arches. “How’s that?” he asked softly, eyes full of concern and love. “Better?” You nodded, taking a bite of pancake. “Mhm,” you mumbled through a mouthful, “this helps. Thank you.” The sweetness hit your tongue, and you almost wanted to cry from relief. He squeezed your calf reassuringly, then leaned up to kiss your forehead. “Always,” he said quietly. “I love taking care of you two.” Your heart softened. He truly did mean it. He’d been so patient and attentive—feeding you, rubbing your back, holding you when you cried for no reason.

And there was something else, too: the way his gaze lingered on your growing belly like it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “Nelson,” you began, voice hushed, “you really don’t mind all this? The weird moods, the cravings, the…changes?” He let out a gentle laugh and slid onto the couch beside you, pulling you closer. “Mind it? Are you kidding? I’m completely obsessed.” His hand cupped your belly, thumb stroking lightly. “I love every second of this—the bump, your curves, your attitude.” He lowered his voice, near a whisper. “And how much I want you, even more now.” You blushed, heat pooling low in your belly. Hormones made you irritable, yes, but they also amplified your desire at the strangest moments. It was true that sometimes, when you were cranky or uncomfortable, Grizzy’s solution was to guide you into the bedroom and remind you how cherished and desirable you were. And if nothing else worked to lighten your mood, well, he had other ways—like burying his face between your legs, kissing and licking you into a state of blissful forgetfulness. “Speaking of wanting me,” you said softly, turning to look at him, a spark of mischief in your eyes, “I’m in a mood.” It was half a statement, half a request for relief that only he could provide. His gaze darkened with understanding. “Oh, you want that kind of comfort.” He set the plate aside, leaning in to kiss your jaw, then your neck. “Let me guess, you feel tense?” He pressed another kiss at the base of your throat, voice going low.

“Could use some attention?” You nodded, breath hitching. “Mhmm.” “Finish your food first,” he teased, hand slipping under your shirt to caress the underside of your belly. “Gotta keep you fed.” His tone was playful, but you could see the hungry gleam in his eye. “Then I’m all yours.” You grinned, quickly popping a pickle slice into your mouth, heart thudding with anticipation.

The next morning, Grizzy had a spot on Clooless, the podcast he co-hosted with friends. You were curled up on the couch, phone propped up to watch the live recording. They joked about random topics, current events, and gaming highlights. Eventually, the conversation drifted to personal life updates. You perked up, knowing Grizzy might mention you and the baby. “So, Grizzy,” Puffer began, leaning into the mic, “tell us what’s new on the home front. I know you’ve been preparing for parenthood, to become a father.” Grizzy smiled, the kind that reached his eyes and softened his whole expression. “Man, I’m just—” he paused, searching for words, “I’m so excited. I know I joke a lot, but this is huge for me. We’re close, you know? Just a few more weeks.” Pezzy teased, “I bet you’re freaking out. Getting the nursery ready and all that?” He chuckled, leaning closer to the mic. “The nursery’s set. It’s adorable. But more than that, I’m obsessed with my girlfriend right now. I swear, pregnancy is…something else. I’ve never seen her look more beautiful, more…just full of life. She’s strong, dealing with all the aches and cravings, and I get to be there, help out, make her pancakes at midnight if she wants. I’d do anything for her.” Your cheeks went warm at his words. He continued, voice turning more earnest, almost reverent. “I’m serious, it’s like I’m seeing her in a whole new light. Every curve, every little complaint, I’m just like—‘Yes, let me fix it. Let me make it easier.’” He laughed a bit at himself, “you guys think I’m whipped, but honestly? I’m so whipped, it’s not even funny. I’m grateful every day.”

Your heart clenched at the love pouring out of him. Even filtered through the screen, it was powerful. He was gushing, shameless and proud, letting the world know how much he adored you and the baby growing inside you. Droid chimed in, “Damn, Grizzy, this kid’s not even here yet and you’re already the ultimate dad.” “Can’t help it,” Grizzy replied, smiling so big you could see his dimples. “I can’t wait. They both give me purpose, you know? And if I can make her laugh when she’s moody, or feed them when she’s craving something weird, or just—” He lowered his voice, more intimate now, “—show her how much I worship her body as it grows our child, then that’s all I need.” You swallowed, blinking back a sudden wave of emotion. It meant so much that he celebrated you, that he didn’t shy away from talking about how he admired you, even in public. Later, after the podcast, he returned home. You were waiting, leaning against the doorframe. He shot you a look, half-worried, half-hopeful. “Caught the show?” he asked, tone light, but you could see the question in his eyes. You nodded, stepping forward to wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head against his chest. “I did,” you murmured. “You made me cry, you know.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Happy tears, I hope.” “Very happy tears,” you assured him, tilting your head back to meet his gaze. “And now I’m hungry.” His face lit up, that playful grin returning. “Hungry, huh? What’s on the menu tonight?”

You pretended to think hard. “Hmmm. Not sure. Something sweet, maybe. And then…maybe you?” He laughed softly, shaking his head in affectionate disbelief. “You’re insatiable.” “Your fault,” you teased, poking his chest lightly. “You made me this spoiled.” His eyes flashed with that familiar heat, hands settling on your hips, thumbs brushing your belly. “Oh, I’m just getting started,” he murmured, voice dropping to that husky tone that made your insides flip. “Let’s take care of both cravings, shall we?” You grinned, heart full, body thrumming with contentment and desire. Together, you moved into the apartment, the scent of home and love and possibility surrounding you. Everything felt right: his devotion, your laughter, the life growing inside you—and the promise that, no matter what, he was there to feed every hunger, soothe every ache, and worship every inch of your pregnant body.

writer’s block (dry) = no desire to write, no ability to write (bearable)

writer’s block (wet) = HUGE desire to write, no ability to write (very evil)

Fun Lovin'

Summary: Droid and his enchanting girlfriend, who had a playful spirit that matched her gleaming smile. Theirs was an unconventional love story, which often unfolded in amusing moments shared between gaming marathons and everyday life

TW: Established relationship, kissing, teasing

Droid gets up from his gaming chair in his office, looking at his stream feedback. As he was stepping away, “What the fuck?!” He exclaimed while patting his ass three times. “Damn my ass fat.”

While he was still admiring himself in his camera all the stream could hear in the background was “HELL YEAH IT IS!” ___, his girlfriend screamed from downstairs. He started busting out laughing, he fell down to the floor from laughing so hard after hearing __.

“Baby! What the hell?” Droid gasping for air choked that out back at her, hearing her footsteps running up stairs. 

“What? It's true! And you wonder why I smack your ass so much?” I shrugged innocently, while waving to the camera so chat knows that I acknowledge them, so they don't get all salty. 

“Jesus baby, c’mere.” He got up off the floor waving to me. I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around him giving him a good bear hug, and vice versa. I lifted my head from his chest, he looked back down at him and gave me a smooch on the lips. We unraveled from each other and he sent me on my way back to the kitchen, with a smack on my ass.

“Babe! Owie.” I screamed in shock, rubbing my butt where he whacked me. I had a pouty lip, or a boo-boo lip, Droid walked back up to me. He made sure that the stream of the camera could see me, his figure/stature blocked me. Our eyes locked on each other my ___ eyes and his brown eyes, he captured me in his arms; hands resting on my waist. He leaned down to give me a proper kiss, “I’m sorry not sorry, you little baby.” He jokingly apologized and we both laughed. 

Night Like This - Puffer x reader

Summary: Getting ready for the club with Puffer

TW: Established relationship

a chilly evening in Boston, the air crackled with excitement as the city came alive with the promise of adventure. The streets sparkled under the glow of street lamps, and the sound of laughter echoed through the bustling crowd. But deep within a cozy apartment, a different kind of magic was taking place.

BigPuffer, a warm-hearted and observant soul, perched comfortably on the edge of the couch, eyes gleaming with anticipation. Cricket chirped softly in the background, creating an ambiance to match the evening. He watched as you flitted around the room, gathering your treasures for the night ahead.

You started with your favorite dress, the vibrant fabric swirling with colors that danced in the soft light. As you slipped it on, BigPuffer’s heart swelled at the sight. It was as if the room erupted with colors, and every thread seemed woven with the essence of your spirit.

Next came the delicate dance of makeup. BigPuffer, ever the supportive partner, had witnessed this transformation many times, yet he was always mesmerized. With each stroke of the brush, you shaped not just your appearance but also the mood of the night. The mascara framed your eyes like delicate curtains, and the lip color was a perfect cherry blossom hue that seemed to reflect your vibrant energy.

He picked up a small handheld mirror and watched you from across the room, grinning like a child spotting a treasure. The glow of your confidence lit up the space far more brightly than any overhead light could. As you styled your hair into cascading waves, he cleared his throat, and with a playful smirk, he said, "Are you sure you’re not getting ready for a royal ball? Because you’re simply enchanting!"

His words made you laugh, and as you turned to face him, the room seemed to pause. With each passing moment, he saw the pieces come together: the exquisite dress, the radiant smile, and the air of excitement that surrounded you. In that moment, he realized how lucky he was to have a front-row seat to this transformation, one that made you feel like the most stunning version of yourself.

Finally finished, you stepped back for a moment and struck a playful pose, waiting for his reaction. BigPuffer stood up, his eyes wide with admiration. “Wow,” he breathed, taking a step closer. “You look absolutely breathtaking tonight. I might just be the only guy in Boston who gets to call a queen his girlfriend!”

You both laughed together, the warmth of his words wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. Just then, he took your hand and pulled you closer. “Let me see the full effect,” he said, and spun you around, admiring not just your beauty but your spirit, which shone through like a beacon. 

With hearts light and laughter bubbling, you headed out into the night. The city welcomed you both with open arms, a backdrop for an evening filled with moments waiting to be created friends gathered, stories shared, and memories forged. And amidst the adventure, BigPuffer would be right by your side, always cherishing the magic of watching you become the incredible person you are, inside and out.

Hi! I was wondering if you could write something along the lines of the clooles boys and pregnant reader? You can come up with the plot and what not all I know is that I’m in baby fever so lord help me

Pregnant at Pax - Pezzy x Reader/ Clooless x reader

“Alrighty babe, we have a table- well area- uh I don't know really, but I do know that there is a table and chairs for us to sit at while we talk to fans. You are going to be sitting next to me and Grizzy, then Droid is on my other side while Puffer is on Grizzy’s other side. We got you covered so if you need anything let us know, or whatever. “ Pezzy went on a small rant while I was sitting on our hotel bed in Boston. I was struggling to get out of the bed so I reached my hands out to Pezzy so he could help me up.

“Baby I need help up. I need to pack my snack bag so I don't bother y’all so much.” I said as calmly as possible but I was slightly irritated with how overprotective he has gotten. That thought was soon out of my head as my baby was thinking of how good mcdonalds sounded at 8 in the morning.

“Baby the guys know and don't care, you know that we got you covered in snacks and drinks- what are you- I take that back, what is bean thinking or craving?” He stopped his rant when he saw my face form into a small pleased smile and pleading eyes. Pezzy helped me off the bed following me to the other bed where our suitcases were occupying. 

“Well since you already got our snacks packed, I need to get dressed nice but not too nice. Alllsoo Bean wants a Mcdonald’s milkshake and large fry, or 3 crispy hashbrowns.” I said while moving all my clothes around. I finally found my simple and comfy maternity set that I packed as a backup outfit. I tried my best to put it on without struggling, but I ended up giving up and Pezzy came over to help me in my pants.

As Pezzy zipped up the pants, a gentle smile played on his lips. "There we go, all fashionably ready for our little fan meeting," he teased, giving me a playful poke in the side. I rolled my eyes but felt warm inside, knowing he cared so much.

Once dressed, I practically floated over to the small dining table where we had arranged our snacks. The morning sun streamed in through the hotel window, the golden light illuminating the room in soft hues. I took a deep breath, savoring the smell of the freshly packed treats. Giving more thoughts of the seating arrangement at the tableBetween Pezzy, Grizzy, Droid, and Puffer, I couldn't ask for a more supportive crew.

As I rifled through my snacks, Pezzy lounged against the wall, scrolling through his phone. "What do you think the fans are going to ask us? Probably a lot about our upcoming schedule, right?" 

Just then, a loud knock echoed through the hotel room. Startled, we exchanged glances, and Pezzy walked over to the door. He opened it just a crack, peering out with a curious brow raised. Standing there with an exuberant smile was Grizzy, Droid and Puffer arms laden with coffee cups, McDonald's bags fluttering from the gentle breeze.

"Breakfast is served!" Grizzy announced dramatically, stepping inside and placing down the bounty of food before us. The smell of fries mingled with the rich aroma of coffee, instantly lifting the room's mood. 

Droid shuffled in behind him, his ever-enthusiastic energy filling the space as he chimed in, “I got those milkshakes you wanted! And we even ordered a few extra to share. You can’t resist the milkshake magic—trust me!”

“Trust me Hun, Bean can’t resist the milkshake magic. I just wanted something salty.” I shrugged with a smile gracing my face , while rubbing my baby bump. 

“Did someone say magic?” Puffer, who had just entered the room, leaned against the doorframe with his carefree smile. “All I know is we’ve got a pretty magical group here. Look at this spread!” 

With laughter echoing around us, we gathered at the table, the lively chatter filling the air. I grabbed my milkshake, feeling the sweet, creamy goodness swirl between my fingers, then took a glorious slurp. It was everything I wanted, and instantly, my worries dissipated with each sip.

As the conversations bubbled over and ideas flew in every direction, I relaxed back into my chair, feeling the warmth of camaraderie. Despite my earlier irritation with Pezzy’s protectiveness, I realized that it came from his place of love. 

Just then, Pezzy leaned in, whispering conspiratorially, “I know this isn’t a traditional part of PAX and well your tour, but I’m really glad we get these moments together.” I nodded, understanding that amid the chaos of schedules and fans, these little moments—filled with laughter, good food, and the best company—were the true treasures of our journey.  

As Pezzy sat next to me he started rubbing my stomach and the other arm wrapped around my shoulder, everyone started thinking of questions that fans will ask, and how we will respond to them. How we will tell them no I'm not answering that question in a respectful tone.

 As we tossed question ideas back and forth, the thought of dealing with some trickier inquiries crossed my mind. There would surely be questions about my condition—questions laced with curiosity that strayed beyond mere healthy concern. 

“What about personal questions, like about the baby?” I voiced cautiously, catching the group's attention. “How do we handle those?” 

Droid nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “Just remember, it's okay to draw boundaries. You can say, ‘We appreciate the love, but we prefer to keep that part of our lives private.’” 

“Respect is key!” Puffer declared jovially, fist-bumping the air. “That way, we can steer the conversation back to the fun stuff, like gaming and snacks!”

“Communication is everything,” Pezzy added, his calm tone laced with reassurance. “We’re a team, and we’ve got each other’s backs.” 

The tension in my shoulders eased as I felt a warm wave of gratitude wash over me. The way they supported not just me, but each other, felt like a beautiful, intricate dance. Together, we’d navigate whatever came our way.

As we collectively crafted responses to hypothetical questions, Grizzy suddenly piped up with a wide-eyed expression, “Okay, but imagine someone asks about secret talents we have! Like, can you juggle? Because I've been working on my juggling skills!” 

“Juggling, huh?” I laughed, my eyes sparkling with amusement. “Show us what you got!” 

Grizzy stood, grabbing some empty snack boxes and setting them up as makeshift juggling balls. The whole group burst into laughter as he attempted to juggle, managing to drop one snack box repeatedly. 

“Not as easy as it looks, huh?” Droid chimed in, feigning a look of mock surprise. 

We all erupted into a fit of laughter, and suddenly I realized how lighthearted the atmosphere had become. In the middle of snacks, silly games, and camaraderie, the worries about the day faded away.

“Hey, we should probably meet up with everyone else soon, it's about an hour and half til we have to be at the table to get us all set up.” I suggested 

“I guess that means we need to save some snacks for later!” Puffer exclaimed, stuffing a hash brown into his mouth as if to emphasize his point. The sight sent us all into another giggle fit, our earlier excitement gearing up for the day ahead.

“Good call,” Pezzy said, glancing at the mess of wrappers and boxes strewn across the table. “We can’t leave a battlefield behind. And who knows, our fans might judge our snack choices!” 

Grizzy attempted to balance the empty boxes on his head, a joke in progress aimed to lighten our spirits even further. “The true test of a great gaming team is their snack strategy!” 

“Alright, let's get organized!” I chimed in, trying to rein in the hilarity to prepare us for the busier part of our day. I began packing up the remaining snacks in my snack bag, grateful for the shared light-heartedness we had cultivated. 

With everyone pitching in, we carefully sorted the snacks. Pezzy’s deft fingers worked to ensure everything was neatly stowed away, while I packed up my milkshake, cradling it in my hand as if it were a treasured possession. 

Once the area was tidied up, I glanced in the mirror across the room, adjusting my hair and giving myself a quick pep talk. I wanted to be fully present for our fans, ready to engage and share in their enthusiasm. 

“Ready to show the world what we’ve got?” I asked, turning back to face the group with a determined smile. Pezzy slung the bag over his shoulder, while grabbing my free hand as we exited the hotel and our room.

They returned my enthusiasm with cheers, collectively pumped for the meet-and-greet. “Let’s do this!” echoed through the small hotel room, harmonizing our shared jitters and excitement.

As we gathered our things, the anticipation in the air seemed to spark with every passing moment. Stepping into the hotel hallway, we faced a bustling PAX world that was alive with the energy of thousands of gamers, creators, and enthusiasts.

The sounds of chatter, laughter, and delighted squeals filled our ears as we made our way toward the expo floor. A vibrant tapestry of colors and sights greeted us—screens flashing gameplay footage, booths showcasing the latest games, and cosplayers parading by in all their elaborate glory. 

As we approached our designated area, the excitement bubbled like the fizzy sweetness of soda. I spotted the long table where we would meet fans, adorned with banners and signs that highlighted our presence. 

Waves of familiar faces began to appear, a mixture of anticipation and joy illuminating their expressions. I felt my heart race. This was what it was all about—the passion of the community wrapped around us like a warm blanket.

“Just remember, we’re here to have fun! Get to know our fans and let them know how much we appreciate them,” Pezzy said, squeezing my shoulder gently and kissing my cheek, grounding me amidst the whirlwind of activity.

The simple gesture—so tender and reassuring—sent a surge of warmth through me. The packed convention center buzzed with energy, but in that moment, everything else faded into the background. It was just me, Pezzy, and the unshakeable bond we shared.

“Okay, let’s do this,” I said, my voice steady as I adjusted my stance, taking a deep breath to fuel my excitement. The thought of meeting our fans filled me with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. These were the people who had cheered us on, shared our laughs, and accompanied us through our journeys.

As we approached the table, I caught a glimpse of some fans already waiting, their eyes sparkling with the thrill of anticipation. Some held memorabilia—action figures, posters, and even gaming consoles, eager for us to sign their treasures. Others wore shirts adorned with our logo, a testament of their support. Each face held a unique story, and I felt a deep desire to connect with them.

“Hi, folks!” I called out, an exuberant smile breaking across my face. The fans lit up in response, shouting back greetings that echoed like music in the lively hall. 

“Thank you for coming! We’re so excited to meet each and every one of you!”

A wave of laughter surged through the small gathering. It effectively broke the ice, melting any nerves that lingered in the air. As fans approached, the spirit of inclusion swelled and wrapped around us like a warm blanket.

One young girl, no older than eight, skipped forward with bright eyes glistening with excitement. “Can I have a goofy face picture with you?” she asked, her voice bubbling with glee. 

“Absolutely!” I exclaimed, dropping my silliness meter into overdrive. I pursed my lips and crossed my eyes, mimicking cartoonish characters, and Pezzy joined in, his exaggerated poses doubling the laughter. 

Click! The camera captured the moment, and her laughter rang in my ears—pure, unfiltered joy. 

Afterward, with her heart full of delight, she skipped away, waving her hands behind her. The ripple of happiness she left in her wake ignited a newfound eagerness within me. 

As much as I enjoyed eating snacks, it was the genuine connections I truly cherished. Each interaction revealed bits of our shared passions, and stories flowed like the sweetest honey as fans shared their exciting journeys through gaming, what inspired them, and even their favorite moments from our content. 

“Your songs on the last album release really helped me through some tough times,” one fan shared, visibly moved. “It made me feel like I wasn’t alone.” 

My heart squeezed at the sincerity of his words. “Thank you for sharing that with us,” I replied. “It means the world to know we can be a part of your journey. You’re not alone. We’re all in this together!” 

The day unfolded in a beautiful blur of laughter, gratitude, and the kind of camaraderie that bridged the gap between creator and fan. Pezzy expertly juggled conversations, signing autographs while ensuring that no fan felt overlooked. 

As the clock ticked by, and the line snaked ever longer, I felt a rush of fulfillment. “This is good for the soul,” I mused aloud to Pezzy during a brief respite. 

He smiled, eyes shining with warmth. “Exactly. Remember, this is more than just a job. We’re creating a community, and today we get to celebrate it.”

Just as we prepared for the next wave of fans, a commotion from the side caught our attention. A group of cosplayers made their entrance, dressed in elaborate costumes, each one more impressive than the last. The crowd erupted in cheers, and soon enough, they were heading our way—part of our ever-growing family.

With each laugh, each shared story, and each encouraging word, I felt a deeper connection with the very people who made what we did possible. Today was more than just a meet-and-greet; it was a testament to the joy of human connection, solidarity, and the love emanating from a community passionate about gaming and friendship. 

And through it all, Pezzy remained close, his presence a constant source of strength and light as we ventured deeper into this beautiful chaos. Together, we would forge a tapestry rich with stories—our own and those of the fans whose lives intertwined with ours. This was our world, and we were ready to embrace it.

Dinner Disaster- Clooless x Reader

Summary: Meeting a new Friend with the guys? Think again, love.

TW: ANGST! car crash, pain, friendship ending, gore, cursing, made-up drama, mental illness, "intrusive thoughts".

Pezzy, Grizzy, Puffer, and Droid—decided to join forces for a dinner meetup. They were excited to introduce their new friend, Cleo, a charming and vibrant woman who had recently moved to their city. Everyone was dressed in their best business casual attire, eager to enjoy good food and refreshing conversation.

As the evening began, the atmosphere bubbled with laughter and friendly banter. Cleo was engaging and witty, quickly stealing the spotlight. But little did Pezzy, Grizzy, Puffer, and Droid know that her dazzling charm would soon take a sharp turn.

While they were enjoying appetizers, Cleo decided to add a twist to the night. With a dramatic flair, she leaned in to the group and recounted a "hilarious" story about her high school days in Texas. She painted a vivid picture of a bully who tormented her through those awkward teenage years—the details were rich, the emotions palpable. And to their surprise, she pointed right at you, claiming that you were that very bully.

The guys were stunned. “You? A bully?” they thought as they exchanged confused glances. Pezzy was empathetic, Grizzy appeared shocked, Puffer’s eyes widened, and Droid started backing Cleo’s tale, asking how you could have been so cruel. The more Cleo spoke, the more details she added, weaving a web of lies that seemed to trap the unsuspecting four.

You sat there, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and disbelief. You were from Tennessee, not Texas! Slowly, a sinking realization hit you. The room felt smaller, the laughter turned into uncomfortable chuckles, and one by one, they began supporting Cleo's story with their own jests. “Oh, come on, how could you? You don’t look like a bully!” Grizzy ribbed, chuckling nervously.

Feeling overwhelmed, it all became too much. You stood up, your heart pounding and tears blurring your vision. “You don’t understand!” you pleaded, but the raucous laughter drowned your voice. With tears streaming down your cheeks, you hurried out of the restaurant, desperate for fresh air.

You dashed to your car, trembling with a mix of emotions. It hurt that your friends seemed to have forgotten who you truly were, all sparked by Cleo's clever deception. You sat behind the wheel, the comforting hum of the engine surrounding you as you tried to breathe.

The world blurred around you as your heart raced, and for a moment, it felt as if time had frozen. Hitting the gas had been instinctual—a desperate attempt to escape the suffocating walls of betrayal closing in. As you crumpled the metal frame of your emotions into the crumpled metal of the car, the reality of what just happened began to seep through the haze of despair.

The screech of tires and the sudden jolt pulled you back to the present, but everything felt unreal—the scene around you, the fragments of shattered glass, and the ringing silence that followed the collision. Instinctively, you unclenched your fingers from the steering wheel and looked around, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The impact was jarring, a sudden halt to the chaos swirling in your mind. Metal crunched, and a blunt force threw you forward before the seat belt tightened, a stark reminder of reality. Instincts kicked in, adrenaline flooding your system as you scanned your surroundings, heart racing against the backdrop of sirens wailing in the distance.

You could hear voices, though muffled, piercing through the fog of confusion. In the other car, a man emerged, frazzled but unhurt, yet an unmistakable anger filled his eyes, directed at you. You wanted to explain, to scream that it wasn’t your intention, that your mind had been clouded by pain and betrayal. But words stuck in your throat, tangled with the depths of your hurt and shame

Panic surged through you like a tidal wave, drowning out the distant sirens and muffled voices. You pressed your palm against the steering wheel, trying to anchor yourself in the present, but the world spun, a whirlwind of colors and sounds. Blood seeped through your clothes, pooling beneath you, mingling with the fragments of glass and metal that littered the scene. A wave of nausea rolled through you, and you fought the urge to close your eyes—to slip into unconsciousness where pain doesn’t exist.

The frazzled man, still clinging to anger, rushed toward you, his face a mask of concern beneath the fury. “Stay with me! Help is coming!” he shouted, though his words were barely able to penetrate the haze surrounding you. The scene had transformed into a surreal tableau, the sirens growing louder but feeling so far away, as if you were trapped in a liminal space between life and oblivion.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, each one sending jolts of agony through your left side. You glanced down, horror creeping into your consciousness. The sight made your stomach turn—bone protruded from beneath torn flesh, and your limbs felt unresponsive, as though they belonged to someone else. You tried to move, to adjust your position, but the pain shot through you like lightning, forcing a cry from your lips that echoed in the chaos.

In that moment, the man’s anger faded into something softer—fear, perhaps, or concern. “You’re going to be okay. Just hold on,” he said, his voice steadier now. He shifted closer, trying to assess the situation, his hands awkwardly reaching out. “What’s your name?” he asked, urgency threading through his tone.

“Y-you don’t… you don’t need to know… don’t… call for help,” you managed to whisper, every word a struggle as you forced yourself to focus on the man’s eyes—trying to find comfort in the chaos around you. Your mind was racing through fragments of thought; images of laughter and warmth from the party before the crash, intermingled with visions of betrayal and loneliness, clawed at your consciousness.

“Please, stay with me,” he urged, his brow furrowing as he glanced around for any sign of first responders. “Can you feel your legs?” the man asked, his eyes scanning for any sign of movement. You tried to wiggle your toes, but the effort felt monumental; your body was betraying you in ways you never imagined.

"No…" The sound barely formed, a whisper swept away by the chaos swirling in your mind.

“It’s going to be okay. Just focus on breathing. In and out. You’re going to get through this.” His presence, though a stranger, offered a strange comfort amidst the chaos of the moment. His hands moved to stabilize your head, keeping your gaze steady on his as paramedics arrived, their red and blue lights illuminating the scene with frantic urgency.

“Stay still!” someone barked, kneeling beside you. You turned your head to see a paramedic, her face set in a mask of focused determination as she assessed your injuries. “We’re going to help you, but we need you to remain as calm as possible.”

They began working to stabilize you, wrapping bandages around your arm and assessing the other cuts and bruises that marred your skin. But despite the pain, your mind began racing again—the memories of the night flooding back. Cleo’s deceit. Your friends, slipping away, shadows of who you thought they were. The aching realization that everything felt shattered echoed within you, heavier than the physical agony coursing through your body.

Moments blurred, and finally, you heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps rushing toward you, and the brilliance of flashing lights filtered through your eyelids. Voices called out commands, focusing on you, on the situation—compelling your body to hold on. You felt hands pressing on your injuries, and the sharp sting of antiseptic invaded your senses, pulling you even further away from reality, yet somehow tethering you back to life.

“Stay with us, keep your eyes on me!” a paramedic shouted, their voice filled with authority. You wanted to fight, to resist the creeping darkness at the edges of your vision, but exhaustion surged like a tide, washing over you.

The darkness threatened to pull you under, but you clung to that bright light, willing yourself to stay awake, to survive. In the last moments of consciousness, as the world faded into shades of gray, you whispered a promise to yourself: that you would emerge from this stronger, more resilient, no longer defined by betrayal or despair. And as the paramedics lifted your body onto the stretcher, their voices fading into a blend of urgency and reassurance, you held onto that promise, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.

Bright white lights overhead blurred your vision as you drifted in and out of consciousness, each blink feeling like a battle. The sterile scent of antiseptic filled the air, more potent than the pain that radiated through your body. It was then you felt a warmth enveloping your fingers, and slowly, reality crystallized around you.

As your gaze sharpened, you saw their faces—the guys—Puffer, Pezzy, Droid, and Grizzy, huddled around your hospital bed like sentinels guarding your recovery. Their expressions, twisted with concern, morphed into a painful reminder of the chaos that had unfolded only days before. Each of them wore an aura of defeat, as though a vital piece of themselves had been stripped away alongside your accident.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words caught like thorns, tearing against the rawness of your throat. Instead, you watched as Puffer, the most boisterous among them, gulped back emotion. He had always been your rock, the one who laughed the loudest and kept spirits high. His shoulders sagged now, the laughter seemingly lost in the void of worry.

“Hey, you’re back,” he finally breathed, a strained smile attempting to rescue the moment, but the tremor in his voice betrayed him.

“How… how long?” you managed to croak, wincing as your voice strained. Your body felt like it was wrapped in a cloak of lead; every inch throbbed painfully, a cruel symphony reminding you of the night that had shattered everything.

“Three days,” Pezzy chimed in softly, his usual enthusiasm replaced with a somber tone. “We were terrified… We thought…” His words lingered in the air, cut off by Grizzy, who placed a hand on Pezzy’s shoulder, grounding him.

Droid, always the level-headed one, stepped forward, his eyes glistening with unspoken worry. “You scared the hell out of us. We didn’t know what had happened when Cleo called. You just disappeared after that fight.”

Cleo’s name twisted a knife in your heart, reminding you of the betrayal and confusion you had endured.

A cold wave of fury washed over you, the warmth of their concern feeling more like a shroud than a comfort. Cleo’s name echoed in your mind like a death knell, making the memory of the betrayal swell like a tidal wave ready to swallow you whole. Every laugh shared, every secret whispered—they all felt tainted now when contrasted with the suffocating weight of her betrayal.

You shifted on the bed, your expression hardening, and pushed the familiar warmth of their collective concern away. “I don’t want you here,” you snapped, the words sharp and jagged as they tore through the air.

Puffer’s smile faltered, replaced by confusion, while Pezzy looked taken aback, his brow furrowing in disbelief. “What do you mean?” he asked, voice trembling with hurt.

Droid took a step back, his eyes widening, but your gaze remained unwavering. “You don’t get it, do you?” you shot back, words spilling out in a hot rush. “You all just stood there while she twisted everything. You took her side without even listening to me!”

“Look,” Puffer began, his voice raw but soft, “we didn’t know what was happening. We thought you needed space, and then—”

“Space?” You interrupted, your throat burning with frustration. “Space didn’t put me in a hospital bed! Space didn’t stop you from being there when I needed you most! You choose to believe her lies over my truth!”

The tension crackled in the air like a storm about to break loose. Grizzy, usually the peacemaker, looked like he was holding himself together by sheer willpower. Grizzy stiffened, his expression morphing from concern to something resembling hurt. “We didn’t know everything that happened! Cleo didn’t say—”

“Exactly!” You interrupted, your voice rising like a storm. “You didn’t ask. You just believed her lies!” The room felt oppressive, filled with the tension you had created.

The guys exchanged glances, faces drawn tight with confusion and remorse. You could see the shock settling in their eyes, as if your anger was a foreign language they didn’t understand. But no amount of pity or concern would mitigate the feeling of despair that now festered within your spirit.

“You think you know me, but you were quick to forget everything we’ve been through,” you continued, your heart racing, a mixture of desperation and despair spilling out. “You don’t get to act like you care now. You left me alone when I needed you most!”

The silence that followed was deafening. The weight of your words lingered in the air, an unbroken circle of pain, drifting between you and the friends who had always stood by your side. You turned your gaze toward the stark white ceiling, trying to contain the torrent of emotions that threatened to overflow. The vulnerability that had urged you to open up gave way to a wall of anger—an armor around the rawness of betrayal.

Finally, Droid spoke, his voice steady despite the crack that lay beneath. “We came to see you because we love you. We didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry if…if you felt we abandoned you. That was never our intention.”

Your heart twisted at his words, the sincerity evident in his voice, but the anger wouldn’t relent. How could they not see? How could they remain oblivious to the betrayal that had blindsided you? You felt small again, trapped in the shadows of what once was, and that fear morphed into resentment.

“Love?” you scoffed, bitterness staining your voice. “You don’t love someone if you abandon them. If you take a side without hearing both stories.”

Puffer, looking crestfallen, finally spoke up softly. “It isn’t that simple. We were scared, and yeah, we may have listened to the wrong person. We’re sorry, but we’re still here now…can’t you see that?”

Their concern, now swirling with their guilt, felt suffocating rather than comforting. “I don’t want your pity. You should leave,” you replied flatly, determination crystallizing into a cold resolve. You didn’t want to hear their empty reassurances or their apologies. You were done with the world feeling so small and confined.

“Is this really what you want?” Grizzy asked quietly, the pain evident in his eyes, a stark contrast to your hardened exterior.

You remained silent, refusing to give them an answer. Your heart ached, not just from the physical agony that coursed through your body but from the wreckage of your friendships—the very foundation you had once turned to for solace. You wanted to shove them away, to protect what little dignity you felt you had left, rather than delving into complicated emotions you weren’t ready to face.

Finally, Droid broke the silence, looking more deflated than ever. “We’ll give you space,” he said softly. “But we’ll be right outside. Just…know that we care. And if you need us…we’ll be waiting.”

As they slowly left, the door clicking shut felt like a thunderous echo in the silence that followed. A weight lifted, but in its place lay an uncomfortable silence—a void that only reinforced the fracture in your heart. With the door quietly closing, you let out a shaky breath, the anger fluttering out like a deflated balloon, leaving only raw disappointment in its wake. You were alone now, a sense of relief washing over you, dulled only by the pain radiating from your broken body. You let the tears flow freely as you lay back against the pillow, the weight of it all crashing down.

The quiet settled around you, draping the room in a thick layer of solitude. The beeping of the machines felt louder now, mocking your aching heart with their relentless monotony. You were left alone, the echoes of their voices fading like distant memories lost to the winds of time. The anger, once a fiercely burning flame, now felt like embers—smoldering and bitter, feeding on your disappointment.

With a heavy heart, you turned your head to gaze out the small window across the room. The world outside felt alive and vibrant, a stark contrast to the suffocating stillness inside. People walked hurriedly down the hospital corridor, their silhouettes blurring together in a mosaic of ordinary life, while you were trapped in this box, both physically and emotionally.

Memories flickered through your mind like scenes in a disjointed film reel: the laughter, the adventures, the moments that once stitched you together in friendship. But between those happier images lay the knife of betrayal. Cleo’s laughter rang in your ears, intertwined with the memories of your friends standing by her side, leaving you alone to drown in confusion and pain.

Feeling the weight of that betrayal crushing down on you, a new emotion crept in—sadness. It burrowed deep within your chest, a thick fog swallowing your thoughts. You had spent your whole life building connections, trust, and a life with those who mattered most to you, and now it felt as if everything had disintegrated in an instant.

“Why?” you whispered into the stillness, your voice barely recognizable to your own ears. “Why didn’t they believe me?”

You turned your attention to the stark white walls, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow that illuminated the shadows of your heart. In that moment, you wished you could escape this bed, this room, this life where nothing felt right anymore. But reality was a chain wrapped around you, and fighting against it demanded strength you weren’t sure you possessed.

Gazing at the IV drip hanging beside you, you felt as if every drop of medication was a reminder of your vulnerability, a stark reminder of how fragile everything had become. It was hard to accept that the people you once trusted so freely now felt like strangers—people who had been complicit in your feelings of abandonment. The hurt was deep, but it also made you question: What kind of friend had you been to them in the chaos?

The question hung in the air like thick fog, obscuring the clarity you craved. What kind of friend had you been? You had poured your heart into those relationships, trusted them with your secrets, your fears, your hopes. Yet, in that moment of agony, with the memories of laughter now muted by shadows, you wondered if perhaps you had taken more than you had given.

As the IV drip continued its rhythmic beeping, you recalled the times you had chosen your battles poorly, the moments when you had clung to your own struggles rather than reaching out to support those who shared your journey. Had you been so engrossed in your own pain that you had neglected theirs? It was easy to turn inward, to focus on the hurt that had been inflicted upon you, but now you felt the thorn of self-doubt digging in. The familiar faces that frowned and looked away in those final moments—had you seen their anguish?

“Why did I even bother?” you mumbled to yourself, the bitterness pooling in your throat. “Why didn’t I see this coming?” You closed your eyes against the dampness, conjuring images of happier moments, only to watch them dissolve into shadows that whispered reminders of your failures. Was it my fault? Did I push them away? Should I have fought harder to hold onto them?

In your heart, a sinister voice crept in, soft yet insistent: Maybe you are the problem. If you weren’t so broken, they wouldn’t have left you behind. Each thought carved deeper, igniting a feeling of worthlessness you tried so desperately to escape.

The pain from your injuries was relentless, pulsating in time with the heavy weight of despair that now sat on your chest. But what was worse than the physical pain was the emotional ache that left you feeling exposed and raw. As you lay there, wrestling with the remnants of anger, it transformed into something darker—self-loathing.

A fleeting thought whispered in the back of your mind: What if it was easier to just disappear? What if the world would be better off without your burdens? Each pulse of pain felt like an affirmation of that thought, a cruel reminder of the weight you carried—the judgments, the whispers of inadequacy that hung in the corners of your mind.

What would it take to find relief? You pictured the momentary numbness that could drown everything out; your inner turmoil quieted through the pain—and you could do it, couldn’t you? Just a slip of something sharp, a momentary escape from the cacophony of despair.

But as those thoughts danced in the shadows, a flicker of something else broke through, fighting to surface—the promise you had made to yourself. You’d vowed you wouldn’t be defined by this; you wanted to emerge stronger, blossoming from the ashes of your pain.

You swallowed hard, tears still pooling at the edges of your vision. It would have been so easy to lean into that dark voice, to let it take control, but deep down, fear began to anchor you. Fear of the unknown, fear of what lies beyond those fleeting moments of numbness.

In that moment, as the pain pulsed through your torso and the shadows loomed on the edges of your mind.

Sudden Embrace

Summary: ___ helped out Puffer while he was live streaming. She had noticed that he forgot to grab a wire to his setup, particularly a wire that would enhance his streaming quality. With a smile on her face, she grabbed the wire and headed toward Puffer’s streaming room.

TW: Kisses, soft romance, established relationship

As I walked into the room, the glow of his streaming setup bathed everything in a warm, soft light. Puffer was sitting in his gaming chair, fully immersed in his stream, but the moment I entered, I noticed his focus shift towards me. My heart fluttered at the sight of him, headphones snugly in place and a playful grin spreading across his face as he caught my eyes.

“Hey! Perfect timing!” he exclaimed, his voice laced with excitement. I held up the wire I had brought for him, a simple task that suddenly felt monumental at this moment.

As I approached, he suddenly pushed away from his desk, standing to greet me. The next thing I knew, he had enveloped me in a warm hug, his arms wrapping tightly around my waist. I could feel the familiar comfort of him, the scent of his cologne melting into mine. “You smell like me… oh god, it’s driving me crazy,” he mumbled into my hair, his voice low and playful, sending a rush of heat to my cheeks.

I couldn’t help but smile against his shoulder, my heart racing a thousand beats per minute. The way he pulled me closer felt as if he wanted the world to melt away, just the two of us in our own little bubble. With my heart fluttering, I could feel the heat radiating from his body, and I nuzzled into him, my own arms wrapping around his neck.

He leaned down then, his warm breath tickling my skin as he pressed a gentle forehead kiss against me—simple, yet electrifying. My cheeks were probably brighter than a cherry now, and I could feel the warmth seep into my very core. “You’re so cute when you blush like that,” he teased softly, pulling away just enough to look into my eyes.

I couldn’t help but laugh, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips. “And you’re impossible,” I replied, narrowing my eyes playfully. But deep down, I loved this side of him—the silly, flustered boy who could charm the world with just a smile.

He chuckled, his own cheeks tinged pink, and pulled me back into another hug. It felt like we had stepped away from the hectic world of streaming, surrounded by wires and screens, and were simply just Puffer and me—two souls intertwined in our own little sanctuary.

“Now, if you'll excuse me,” he said, slightly pulling back, “I have to entertain the masses, but I think I’ll be thinking about you the whole time.”

I watched as he settled back into his chair, the streamer persona taking over, but I could still see the spark of warmth in his eyes. And for a moment, amidst the glowing screens and endless chatter from his stream, I felt like the luckiest person in the world.

I just realized I never gave a clip or video to go with the request I sent (I sent the clooless one with the face less reader)

I hope that’s okay and it’s not could you respond so I know if it was okay or not?

Yes this is okay! I can do it! Give me til Friday-ish and I’ll have it posted love! 💕

Cleared Crash - Pezzy x Biker!F!Reader

Summary: A midnight ride, will it ever go right?

TW: Angst (?), established relationship, bike ride gone bad, crying, hospitals, lmk if i missed anything <3

“Hey babe?” I popped my head into Pezzy’s office

“Hey I’m streaming what's up?” Pezzy informs while muting his mic

“Just wanted to let you know I’m going out for a night ride.” I told him while showing him my marron red helmet.

“Okay babe, try to be safe and ill put my phone on sound.” Pezzy says while unmuting his phone with a small flick.

“I’ll try but you know how it is.” I say closing his door walking to our garage, to Scarlette, my red bike.

I finished putting all of my gear on, put my riding gloves on and roared Scarlette to life with a turn of a key.

The moon hung low in the night sky, a silver pendant in a velvet tapestry. The air was crisp, with reddish orange leaves swirling in playful chaos around ____ as she revved the engine, the familiar roar sending adrenaline coursing through her veins.The world around her melted away, and all that remained was the throaty growl of her bike and the labyrinthine road ahead. Each ride felt like a daring dance with freedom, and tonight was no different.

Back across town, Pezzy was in the middle of his live stream, a charming blend of humor and gaming that had earned him a dedicated following. His viewers immediately tuned in, drawn to his infectious laughter and quirky commentary. Yet, as he glanced at the chat, he felt a tiny, creeping unease every time he saw ___’s empty seat beside him. She was his partner, his confidante, and he found a part of himself missing in her absence. 

As ____ navigated the winding roads, feeling the thrill of the wind against her skin, she was momentarily lost in thought—her mind drifting to Pezzy, his warm smile, and the way he always managed to bring light into the darkest corners of her day. In her heart, she felt a pang of guilt for leaving him behind as she embarked on her nightly adventures.

____ sliced through the night, a silhouette loomed suddenly—a car, with no lights on, darting from a side street, a ghost in the shadows. Time seemed to freeze for an agonizing moment as their eyes locked, panic sparking between them like a live wire. ____'s heart raced as she swerved, but it was too late. The impact was thunderous, a collision that sent her sprawling to the asphalt—pain erupting in a cascade of darkness.

Somewhere distant, a siren wailed in the night, merging with the shouts of onlookers and the crackle of concern that filled the air. The world blurred, and sensation dulled—fragments of reality drifted like autumn leaves caught in a storm. 

Back in his modest room, Pezzy suddenly felt a chill crawl up his spine. He glanced at the door, feeling an unease gnawing at his gut, when his phone rang—a stranger's number flashing ominously. Heart pounding, he answered it, his voice thick with anxiety, “Hello?”

“Is this Pezzy?” The voice on the line was steady but grim. 

“Yeah, who is this?” His voice wavered, dread pooling inside him. 

“This is St. Mary’s Hospital. I’m afraid there’s been an accident involving your girlfriend, ____.”

Pezzy’s vision tunneled, the vibrant colors of his gaming world distorting into grays and blacks. “What happened?” he gasped, his throat tightening around the words.

“She was hit by a car while riding her motorcycle. She’s being treated now, but you should come to the hospital immediately.”

“Um okay chat, I GOT to  go like now. I will update y’all later but I dont know.” Pezzy said, without a moment's hesitation, he ended the stream, his mind racing as he fumbled for his keys.

The world around him blurred, the glow of the computer screen fading to an echo. He dropped the headset and bolted for the door, despair fueling every panicked breath. The streets raced by him in a blur, each passing car taunting him with a lingering fear that he couldn’t shake—the fear of losing ____, the spark in his life.

When Pezzy arrived, the hospital loomed like a giant sentinel, cold and unfeeling. The sterile smell of antiseptics overwhelmed him, but the fear lodged like a stone in his throat. His heart pounded against his ribcage as he navigated the sterile corridors, every step heavy with dread. He found himself standing before the emergency room doors, clutching his phone as if it were a talisman against the unknown.

“___ ____,” he gasped. The receptionist looked at him, concerned, flooding her eyes as she prepared to relay the news.

Moments dragged into eternity. At last, a doctor emerged, his expression a mask of professionalism laced with concern. “She’s stable but unconscious. We’re monitoring her injuries. You can see her, but only for a few minutes.”

As he stepped into the dimly lit room, Pezzy’s heart broke at the sight of Bella—pale and fragile among the tangle of wires and machines. He approached her bedside, the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor grounding him like an anchor in a storm. ___ laid unconscious in the stark white room, her body bandaged and bruised, possibly broken. Pezzy could hardly recognize the vibrant woman he loved; it felt like viewing a ghost. The beeping of the monitors slowly turned into a dreadful rhythm, and the longer he stood there, the more he felt the weight of an impending darkness.

“_____,” he whispered, his voice quivering. “You have to fight. I need you… we need you.” Taking her hand, he soaked in the warmth of her fingers despite the chill of the room. Memories flooded through his mind—their adventures, the laughter that echoed through their lives, the long talks that stretched into the early hours. How could life be so cruel?

Hours passed like a quiet eternity, until finally, as dawn broke and the first rays of sunlight danced through the window painting the room a beautiful ombre. Pezzy’s mind raced through memories of them together—the way she laughed, how she always found the good in everything, and those quiet moments when they would sit together in comfortable silence. He clutched her hand tightly, fear and love intertwining in his chest. His eyes started melting like ice, the water just flowed down his face.

Then, breaking through the haze of despair, her eyes fluttered open. For a moment, ____ stared blankly at the unrecognized, sterile ceiling before her ____ gaze finally shifted to meet his eyes. Pezzy's breath hitched like it was stuck in this throat. He saw the flicker of recognition morph into relief, then love in her haze-y eyes. 

“____?” he breathed, hardly believing it, the warmth of hope igniting.

“_____,” he whispered repeatedly, tears brimming in his eyes.

“Hey, I’m right here. You’re safe,” he said, relief flooding his chest as he felt her fingers tighten around his hand.

“Pezzy?” Her voice was hoarse, fragile. A smile began to break through the fear; so delicate yet fierce. “What… happened?” ___ choked out. 

“You got into an accident, but you’re going to be okay. I promise.” He brushed a stray hair from her face, his heart aching with the depth of his feelings. “Let’s get through this together, alright?”

As her fingers tightened around his, she could feel the warmth spread through her, battling against the chill of fear that had crept in during her unconsciousness. In that hospital room, amidst the stark walls and low beeping machines, they silently vowed to each other to face whatever challenges lay ahead together.